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grimmsbride · 3 days ago

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LOVERS ROCK [ daisuke / reader ]

keeping your relationship a secret from your coworkers was no doubt; thrilling. and also, very, very challenging. it didn’t help the two of you just loved to push your limits

notes / #bringbackdryhumping | reader is the same janitor reader in my previous fic (obviously). i got this idea randomly, daisuke seems like the type to take his partner to scenic places for dates. and well.. the nighttime screen is about as scenic as it gets on the tulpar. i hope you enjoy and as usual please excuse any grammar mistakes or typos 🫶🏾. i feel i made him very ooc, i’m used to see daisuke smut being quite submissive to the reader so i wanted to go a different approach.. i think in situations like this he may be a little more confident, especially if his partner is reciprocating to the feeling. if you have any thoughts on the manner let me know <3

The Tulpar was filled with mundane tasks. Wake up, clean, eat, shower, and go back to sleep— a routine that’s been ingrained into your body. A continuous cycle that would have bored you to death without your beloved music. You were grateful for your position, no matter how minuscule, yet you couldn’t deny the wish for something more.

And luckily it came true; in the form of a young man nonetheless.

You weren’t one to mix business and pleasure, it just seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. Coming across Tulpar and the demographic you expected to be on the ship — older people that certainly weren’t your type — you were quite confident you wouldn’t go against your usual code. But alas, you surprised yourself while falling for a certain intern.

As bright eyed and slightly clueless he was, Daisuke was a pocket of sunshine you’ve come to truly adore. Always there when he can be, even if it means a quick kiss when you’re cleaning or a gentle pinch when passing by to remind you of who was in your corner.

Keeping your growing relationship a secret from your coworkers was troublesome but extremely necessary. You couldn’t imagine the expressions the others would display, especially Jimmy who just seemed to be far too eager to stomp on just about anyone's happiness; no matter the size.

Still, you couldn’t deny how thrilling it was at times. Pulling your partner into a quiet dark corner for a few extra kisses, or the secret looks the two of you gave each when in a public setting. The line was thinning longer and longer, close calls increasing as time passed.

And yet here you were, seated upon the living room couch; waiting for your beloved Daisuke.

Usually if the two of you wanted alone time when everyone was asleep you alternated between your bedrooms. At least there, there was a door and bed. But for some reason, Daisuke was adamant on spending some time out here; underneath the pretty nighttime screen.

Your eyes stared up at the blues and whites, head leaning back against the shoulder of the couch as music poured into your ears. Your thumb traced the little device, perfectly at ease.

That was until something delicately traced the back of your neck.

You swallowed a yelp, quickly turning with a jump to glare at the one responsible— who only grinned back at you.

“Daisuke! What if I had yelled?”

You stood up from the couch, watching the man walk around the before waltzing down the little steps. Within two strides he was standing in front of you, glancing down at you with the sweetest smile.

“But you didn't!” Daisuke chuckled the moment you lightly shoved his chest, catching your wrist in time before you could move it away. In doing so, he locked your fingers whilst his free hand went for the earbud occupying one of your ears. Pulling it out, the man then lifted it to his own, bringing himself closer to your form.

You met him, unoccupied hand sliding up to wrap your arm around his waist, laying your head against his chest. Between the melody of his heart beat and Tv Girl running through your ears, you were at complete bliss. As if you could fall asleep right then and there.

The two of you swayed, allowing yourselves to get caught up in each other rather than your surroundings. You felt his free hand sneak underneath your arm, pulling it higher until your hand was on top of his shoulder. After which, Daisuke’s hand found your waist, tugging you even closer and actually adding moves to your swaying.

You snorted softly, mumbling softly about him being corny to which the man only laughed. Silence continued after as the two of you danced slowly, carefully, as to hopefully not alert the others of your rather embarrassing nightly activities.

A step, another, and then a graceful stride. You wondered if Daisuke danced a lot back home. The thought caused you to laugh once again, just in time for your lover to twirl you.

Slithering his arm tighter around your waist, he pulled your back to his front, face being shoved into your neck.

Your eyes peeled open, staring up at the nighttime screen that stared back at you. “Dancing under the stars, huh?..”

“A perfect date.”

You smiled at his words, hand rose to reach back and lightly fuss with his hair. “Yeah, all girls love dancing at work while watching a blown up image of a fake sky.”

Daisuke laughed into your ear, the pitch perfectly going along with the music you shared.

“I told my dad I knew what the ladies wanted.”

You groaned softly, teetering between amusement and playful annoyance. You turned around in his hold, hands rising to hold his warm cheeks.

“You’re corny..”

Daisuke smiled, thumb tracing the small of your back, messing with the fabric of the top you wore. “And lucky for me, you’re into it.” You didn’t need to agree nor deny, given the sweet kiss you pressed to his lips was answer enough. He kneeled to meet you fully, tugging you so close as if wishing to melt into you. Your noses brushed against each other, cold tips warming as you consumed one another. You loved kissing Daisuke, not just because he was your boyfriend but more-so cause he was a damned good kisser.

His lips always moved so slow at first, before slowly picking up the longer you continued. A hand rose from your back to instead cup the back of your head, a shiver running down your spine the moment his fingers traced up your scalp; messing in your hair.

So desperate.. you two always were. The thought of any interruptions spurred you on to always savor each and every moment with as much as passion as possible.

And it seemed the both of you intended to do just that, as — ever so carefully — Daisuke walked backwards, leading you with him. Once close enough he was descending to the couch, taking you with him by the waist and pulling you onto his lap.

The two of you broke apart for a moment, gulping up the air around you greedily before smashing your lips together with even more vigor. Your hands were clutching his shoulders at this point, suddenly being reminded Daisuke wasn’t just some clueless man.

You shivered as you felt his hand glide, intruding your top to lay his fingers upon your warm skin. With each interlock of your tongues his fingers were digging into your flesh, a soft whine being pushed from his throat into your mouth. The sound alone caused your thighs to clench, moving carefully in his lap.

Which of course, was met with a hiss and a quick squeeze. You questioned this for a moment, before quickly realizing why it happened in the first place.

This only caused you to smile against him, lowering your hips fully before dragging them against him slowly.

Daisuke was off your lips in minutes, hands falling to your waist as a hushed groan escaped his bruised lips.

“Here?..” The man spoke gently, eyes flicking from between your bodies before back to your face. His eyebrows furrowed as you continued your languid drags, biting the inside of his cheek nervously.

You nodded slowly, leaning closer to press your lips to his ear. “Mhm.. here.”

“Then.. I want to feel— more. Please.” His words were sweet, allowing them to settle in the air for a moment before his fingers were curling to tug at your pants, allowing you to get the message. You stood up rather quickly, pushing your pants down and off, the bottoms pooling at your ankles.

You watched as Daisuke did the same, now only in plain boxers, a funny contrast to the gaudy everyday shirt he usually wore.

Stepping out of your pants, you caught his hands as you made your way back to his lap, brushing your clothed cunt right against his growing bulge as you sat down. It was your time to whine as you felt him through your thin fabrics, Daisuke capturing your lips rather quickly afterwards.

Slowly, you began that same languid pace, gripping his shoulders for stability as you dragged your hips back and forth.. back and forth. His nails were digging into your thighs, meeting your movement with a small, desperate thrust. Moans passed between the two of you, warmth, and music mixing into a sensation that you could only describe as euphoria.

Dramatic sure, but what else could you call it, exactly?

“Could come.. ju—just from this.” Daisuke mumbled the moment the two of you broke apart for air, his face falling to your neck to stamp wet kisses to your skin. He was gentle not to focus too much on a single area, worrying about leaving behind a mark. Though, it seemed rather contradictory given the location the two of you chose for your.. fun.

You were aching, panties surely soaked with arousal as that itch grew. You could only pant in his ear, unsure how exactly this felt so good. Maybe it was pent up, a mixture of stress and the misfortune of lack of alone time. Regardless, it wasn’t your job to figure it out at the moment.

The only job you had right now was to continue to chase this feeling, for as long as you could.

Daisuke pulled you closer if humanly possible, hips rising up from the couch as he ground up into you. He wasn’t lying early, despite zero actual contact he could feel himself twitching— begging for release. The effect you had on him was far too great, after all.

Desperate breaths escaped you, thighs shaky yet yearning for more. His touch, everything, you wanted to feel it all. Your fingers rose to curl into his hair, leaning into his ear as the softest more, dropped from your tongue.

Your words spurred him, fingers squeezing your flesh, nails tracing against those pretty marks that lined your hips.

“You want more?.. Of course, whatever you want.”

Daisuke could never deny you, no matter how small the request was. In minutes he was tugging his boxers down to his thighs, hand lazily dragging across his length. It was a pretty color, lighter than him, with a mole on the under side of his shaft.

The man then reached with his other hand to curl his finger on your panty, tugging it to the side and exposing your soft cunt to his hand. For a moment his finger gently circled your hardened bud, enjoy the pleasant noises you struggled to keep down.

But soon enough he was becoming as desperate as you, helping you position carefully, rubbing his weeping tip against your clit. Daisuke hissed, continuing to coat his dick in your arousal before finding your entrance, lining up, and raising his hips to push himself inside.

The both of you groaned, your eyes pinched closed as you sunk down. Your walls wrapped around his length perfectly, swallowing him up and keeping him deep inside. With each breath you released you clenched, causing the young man under you to struggle to keep his mind straight. Daisuke couldn’t help being so inexperienced, and well.. neither could you, given you felt a single movement would be enough to push you over the edge.

Your eyes slowly opened, gaze falling to his face, taking the time to map out his expression. Would it be corny to call him beautiful? Was it corny to find your lover beautiful in a such state? Under your mercy, as close as biologically possible? Maybe.. but you didn’t dwell on it long, instead deciding to graze your palms across his cheeks, thumbs coming to trace the moles on either side.

“I love you.”

Your words were earnest, laced with the sweetest honey. You smiled, watching his own signature smile cross his face, perfectly. Like any other time.

Daisuke pulled you even closer, a grip to your thigh as he leaned to just a breath’s away.

“See. Now you’re the corny one.”

Your lover swallowed the pretty laughter threatening to leave your chest, all smiles as his arms wrapped around your waist. Once tucked close and snug, his hips, the small thrust enough for the both of you to sigh into the other’s mouth.

Soon enough your knees were pressing against the cushions, hips rising and falling into his lap. With each drop, wet skin smacked against each other, certainly a worrying sound but the two of you seemed to no longer care.

You were too caught up in each other anyway.

Your fingers curled into his silky locks, crying out into his mouth as he stirred you up deeply. His length hit each spot perfectly, a mold made specifically for you. And what’s more, the moment a hand snaked under your skirt to drag his thumb across your nipple— you began to see stars.

Daisuke groaned into you, meeting each drop of your hips with desperate thrusts. You felt so good, way too good. He tried to keep his voice down as to avoid alerting the others, and hear you. You just sounded far too good to ignore.

Your shaky breaths, the way your voice pitched whenever his tip brushed against that special spot — don’t even get him started on the gasps you made when Daisuke went, just a little too deep. Alas he couldn’t focus on the growing list of reasons for his obsession you; bringing you complete pleasure was the main objective.

“You’re clenching me.. you’re going to come, aren’t you?” Daisuke drawled against your lips, pressing a kiss to them before dragging his own over to your ear. Each pant and groan hit it directly, the man at this point helping you rise and fall upon his cock.

“I want you to finish.. all over me.”

“Daisuke—!”

“Not so loud..” The intern spoke in a soft rasp, squeezing you close as his end grew closer. “I don’t need the others to hear you like this. It’s on—only for me, yeah?”

You shook your head rapidly, lip nearly bleeding from how hard you were biting down, your fingers digging into his shoulders— sure to leaves marks despite the shirt he wore.

Within moments you were seeing white, clutching him as you fulfilled his wish. Your arousal coated his dick and thighs, making a sticky mess that was surely on the couch by now.

Daisuke swore under his breath, bringing you onto his lap in one final thrust before filling you up. Luckily he remembered you took the pill as to regulate your period.

The two of you panted, in sync with each other and the music that seemed to still be blasting in your ears. How exactly your earbuds sustained that erratic movement, you will never know nor question.

You pulled back to glance at Daisuke, spotting the man already looking at you, smiling brightly.

You rolled your eyes, glancing down at the space between your two bodies.

“This is going to be so annoying to clean.”

Daisuke stifled his laughter, pulling you into a tight hug, eyes shining whilst he stared up at the screen;

“Maybe… I love you too, [Name].”

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 13 hours ago

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⋆⭒˚.⋆ anyone could walk in on us... ⋆⭒˚.⋆

(cw: MDNI, f!reader, dirty talk, tiktok trend, literally a based on a prank about pretending to give head)

You loved TikTok, it gave you even more ideas to torture fratboy!Jaehyun and you so loved his despair. Jaehyun, however, hated it. Sure, all the thirst comments were fun at first, but the distress he felt while enduring each prank simply wasn't worth random people on the internet calling him hot.

At this point, it had been about two weeks since your last prank and the TikTok gods had just blessed you with another idea. You put your bowl in the sink, sneaking into the living room where Jaehyun sat on the couch watching a soccer game. You set up your phone, making sure there was a clear view of the couch and more importantly, Jaehyun.

You entered the shot, swinging your hips seductively while you sashayed over to Jaehyun. He sent you a quick smile, his eyes leaving the screen for just a second. Slowly, you sank to your knees in front of him, taking the hair tie on your wrist to pull your hair out of your face. You saw the confusion and slight panic cross Jaehyun's face. He was so easy to read. The look on his face told you, 'is she about to do what I think she is?'

You kept an innocent look on your face, while you grabbed his knees and pushed his legs apart. His eyes widened as he gulped. His eyes darkened as his cheeks flushed and you knew. You knew there was no way that the soccer game on the screen had even an ounce of his attention now.

His hand gripped the armrest, his voice low and husky, "what are you doing, sweetheart?"

"What do you think I'm doing, pretty boy?" You ask with a wicked twinkle in your eye, even going as far as licking your lips.

He smiles smugly, his eyes quickly darting around the room before his hands reach for the waistband of his jeans, "dirty girl, anyone could walk in on us. Can't get enough of me can you? Everyone thinks you're an innocent little thing, but not for me, huh? You don't care who sees us, my freaky girl."

He lifts his hips to begin tugging his jeans just far enough down his legs, it's then that you break, not even getting close to the end of the prank. Your surprised laugh escapes your throat while Jaehyun freezes with confusion. Why are you laughing?

Your forehead rests against his knee while your shoulders shake with laughter, "I'm not giving you head!"

Jaehyun's hands fall, "well, what are you doing then?"

"It's a prank, I was supposed to just sit between your legs and make you massage me or something but you got really into it. I'm sorry, baby," you coo through your giggles.

"That's evil, sweetheart. I literally have my pants half way down my legs and I missed three goals."

You deadpan, "your main concern should be that any one of your frat brothers could have walked in on me giving you a blowjob." You stand up and shove his shoulder, "sick pervert. Every time you act like a fratboy I get less attracted to you."

"You like it. You love it actually," Jaehyun smirks, tugging you into his lap

You roll your eyes with a playful huff, "pull your pants up before Taeyong fines your flat ass for having your bare ass on the couch again."

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct x reader #fratboy!jaehyun #frat!jaehyun #frat!nct #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun drabbles #jaehyun blurb

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redroomreflections · 16 hours ago

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Meet The Family

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader (Black Reader)

The Loud House Universe

Summary: Natasha meets R's family for the first time

W/c: 7k

"Babe, I have no idea what you are so nervous about." You shook your head. You grabbed onto your luggage as you deboarded the plane. "They're going to love you."

"I don't doubt that," Natasha said as she slipped the sunglasses onto her face. It's not like it's her first time flying economy before. She insisted that the two of you act as normal as a couple. That's what she craved. Normalcy. Someone not into the lights and cameras and the novelty of her being a hero. That is why she was excited to do the typical thing of meeting your family.

"Sure doesn’t seem like it,” you teased, nudging her lightly with your elbow as the two of you made your way through the terminal. Natasha’s calm exterior might fool anyone else, but you caught the subtle way she fiddled with the strap of her carry-on, her usual poise betraying just a hint of unease.

“I’m just... being cautious,” Natasha replied with a smirk, though you could hear the sincerity in her tone. “Your family is important to you. That means they’re important to me.”

Her words warmed your heart even as you rolled your eyes playfully. “That’s sweet, but they’re just regular people, babe. You're not meeting the president. Just eat good food, laugh at my mom's jokes, and pretend we haven't had premarital sex. Which is interesting of a hill to die on for my mom, but..."

Natasha let out a laugh. "I think I can handle that."

"And don't feel intimidated if they ask you many questions about your job," you continued. "I already warned them about keeping the interrogation to a minimum, but my family is the worst when it comes to asking about every little detail."

Natasha stopped, turning towards you with a serious expression. "I am more than prepared for an interrogation. That's my job description."

The two of you continued walking to baggage claim, keeping up with the traffic flow as you talked.

“Okay,” she said suddenly, tilting her head toward you. “Anything I should know before we get there? Any family secrets or rules I should avoid breaking?”

You snorted. “Well, for starters, don’t say you don’t eat pork. My mom might take that as a personal attack on her cooking.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Good to know. What else?”

“Let’s see,” you mused, counting off on your fingers. “Peyton’s going to act like she runs the world because she’s the oldest, Quincy will probably crack a million dad jokes, and Brandon’s baby's mother… well, don’t take it personally if she doesn’t say much. She’s not big on conversation.”

"She's 17, right?" Natasha asked, her eyes widening as you walked through the airport.

"They both are," You nodded. "Everything I've told you about my family before, believe it."

"That's a lot of people," Natasha smiled softly. She'd always been more comfortable being around small groups. The bigger the group, the more uncomfortable she was.

"Yeah," You grinned. "My parents were great at making babies. There's four of us."

"Hmm," Natasha nodded. "Let me guess that's your brother over there with the sign." She gestured with a raise of her chin to the teenaged boy with a toddler in one arm and a sign that read "Welcome back from the Convent."

You burst out laughing as soon as you spotted the sign. "Of course he did," you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. Natasha chuckled beside you, the corner of her mouth quirking up in amusement.

"That's Brandon for you," you confirmed as you adjusted your bag and walked toward him. "Always a comedian."

Brandon caught sight of you as you approached and broke into a grin. "Hey, sis!" he called out, holding the baby with one arm while waving enthusiastically with the other. The baby, a chubby-cheeked little girl with curly hair, looked unimpressed but content in his hold.

"Really, Brandon?" you said, gesturing to the sign as Natasha raised an eyebrow. "A convent? That’s what you went with?"

"What? It’s funny," he replied, shrugging with a smirk. "Gotta keep you humble."

You rolled your eyes, stepping forward to hug him while Natasha stood back, observing the interaction with quiet interest. "And what about me screams ‘convent,’ exactly?"

"Law school, late nights studying, no time for fun—sounds like a convent to me," Brandon teased before shifting his attention to Natasha. "So, this must be the famous Natasha. Welcome to the family."

"Oh, we're not..." Natasha's cheeks turned a soft shade of pink as she looked at you. "We're not married or anything."

"Yet," He finished with a smile, reaching out to shake her hand. "The way she talks about you, I'd have thought you had already put a ring on it."

"Brandon, stop," You groaned, your cheeks reddening. Natasha looked at you curiously, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"What? It's true. I mean, the whole family's heard all about your girl—"

"Give me my niece. She's getting fussy," You interrupted before he could embarrass you. You and Natasha had been dating for almost a year and a half. She knows practically everything there is to know. But hearing your family's opinion of her made you nervous.

"Fine," Brandon sighed. "You'll have to catch up on all the drama once we're in the car anyway. It's crazy at home."

"Oh? Why's that?" You asked, reaching out to take the toddler in your arms.

"I'll take the bags," He offered to Natasha. He didn't find offense when she declined. He simply kept the conversation going.

"Mom's pissed about Tori," He said, referring to his current girlfriend. "Her parents still won't let her move back home. Also, Peyton and Ross are having some issues. You didn't hear it from me, though. Oh- I parked over here."

He led the three of you to the car, where he opened the trunk and tossed all of your bags in there.

"Hey, that's Gucci," You warned him. "That bag has my laptop."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be careful." He waved you off. "Can you buckle her in?" He asked.

Buckling Willow into her car seat was a feat. It was a new experience that you were excited to have, but she was a wiggler. You were glad to be an aunt and help her dad. You knew Natasha was watching the interaction with interest. Once everyone was seated, Brandon backed the car onto the road and out of the airport parking lot. You were terrified of his driving.

"Mom, let you drive the car," You thought aloud. "That's a first. Peyton and I had to beg her to let us drive practically."

"Well, I'm the baby. I get special privileges," He bragged. "Miss Natasha, you're quiet back there."

"She's fine," You defended her.

"I'm just listening," She replied.

Brandon glanced at Natasha through the rearview mirror as he navigated the freeway. His curiosity was written on his face, and you braced yourself for whatever line of questioning he was about to launch into.

“So,” he started one hand on the wheel and the other drumming lightly on the console. “What’s it like being an Avenger? Do y’all just fight aliens and save the world all day, or is it mostly paperwork?”

Natasha chuckled softly, the sound surprising you a little. She leaned forward just enough to meet Brandon’s gaze in the mirror. “A lot less glamorous than you’d think. Fighting aliens happens occasionally, but it’s mostly meetings, training, and arguing over whose turn it is to clean the kitchen.”

"Wait, you mean to tell me y'all don't have maids or a team to do that stuff?"

"Not for personal stuff, no," Natasha explained.

"And I'm gonna assume there are no benefits, insurance, or anything like that."

"It's government-funded," Natasha said. "So there's plenty of benefits and health insurance."

"Do you get to fly around in a spaceship, or is that reserved for Captain America and Iron Man?"

"There's a jet," Natasha replied.

"Brandon, can we not?" You asked.

"Oh, come on," he protested. "You didn't warn her about the third degree? Besides, it's not like you've seen any action."

"Not directly," You corrected. "But I've watched the news."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to pry. I just want to make sure you're safe. The rest of the fam is going to want to know."

"That's understandable," Natasha said.

"So, what are the chances I'll get a ride in one of those Avengers planes?" He joked.

"Brandon!" You groaned.

"What? Can't blame a guy for dreaming," he laughed. "Okay, I have a real question—do you guys like to hang out? Play cards? Do movie nights? Or is it all business?”

“Depends on the day,” Natasha answered, her voice relaxed. “We’ve had our share of poker nights, but Thor’s terrible at bluffing, and Clint’s too good. Movie nights are better unless someone picks Star Wars. That always ends in arguments about the ‘proper’ order to watch them in.”

“Man, I wish I could’ve been a fly on the wall for some of that,” Brandon said, shaking his head. “You ever bring her to the tower?” he asked, jerking his thumb in your direction.

“A few times,” Natasha said, glancing at you with a small smile. “We mostly hang out at her apartment with Karen. She keeps saying she doesn’t want to ‘cramp my style.’”

“Excuse me for wanting to keep a low profile,” you said, feigning indignation. “Unlike you, Brandon, I’m not trying to be best friends with everyone.”

Brandon shot you a look of mock outrage, pressing one hand against his chest.

"You wound me, sister. Truly."

"I'll do worse than that if you don't focus on the road," You warned him.

"Fine, fine." He raised his hands in surrender.

It would be long if the rest of the day would be like Brandon's questioning.

**********

As Brandon hoisted Willow out of her car seat, she babbled happily, grabbing his hair as he balanced her on his hip. “Alright, ladies, this is where I leave you to fend for yourselves,” he said with a teasing grin, holding open the front door with his foot.

“We can manage,” you shot back with a smirk, lugging your bags from the trunk.

“You sure? I can carry the fancy bag,” Brandon said, eyeing your Gucci luggage again.

“Get inside, Brandon,” you said firmly, laughing despite yourself.

Brandon shrugged and disappeared into the house with Willow, leaving you and Natasha standing by the car.

You turned to Natasha, who was sliding her sunglasses off and tucking them into the neckline of her sweater. “Hey,” you said softly, touching her arm. “You good? I know my family can be a lot.”

"Baby, I'm fine," Natasha said. "Trust me. This is what I do."

"I can't pretend I don't love it when you call me baby." You sighed.

"Well, then maybe I should use it more often," She said. "Also, relax. It's Thanksgiving."

"You're right," You said. "But still, if it gets overwhelming, just let me know."

Natasha nodded, and the two of you headed into the house. As soon as the door opened, the sounds and smells of Thanksgiving Day swarmed around you. Loud, chattering voices, the clatter of dishes, and the mouthwatering scent of roasting turkey filled the house, and you took a moment to close your eyes and soak it in.

"Is that my daughter, I hear?" Your mother's voice rang out from the kitchen.

"Yes, Mama, it's me." You called back. You kicked your shoes off and placed them neatly inside the coat closet. Natasha followed suit.

"Are you the famous girlfriend we've heard so much about?" Your mom asked.

"Yes, ma'am. My name is Natasha."

"Come here, girl, and hug me," your mom ordered, appearing from the kitchen and wiping her hands on a dish towel. "My name's Vivian. It's nice to meet you finally."

Natasha initially hugged Vivian, a bit hesitant, but the older woman’s firm and affectionate embrace quickly put her at ease. “It’s so nice to meet you, ma’am,” Natasha said, stepping back with a warm smile. “You have an incredible daughter. I’ve been hearing nothing but great things about you.”

Vivian chuckled, her sharp eyes twinkling as she gave Natasha a once-over. “Well, flattery will get you everywhere,” she teased. “But please, don’t call me ma’am. It makes me feel old. Vivian or Mama Viv will do just fine.”

“Mama Viv, then,” Natasha said with a slight nod, her voice smooth and respectful.

“Good. Now tell me, Natasha,” Vivian said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe, “what exactly are your intentions with my baby?”

Your eyes widened as you fumbled for words. “Mama!”

Natasha didn’t miss a beat, though. She clasped her hands together, her expression sincere. “To love her, respect her, and make her proud, ma’am—uh, Mama Viv. And to eat as much of your cooking as you’ll let me,” she added with a playful smirk.

Vivian broke into a laugh, shaking her head. “Oh, she’s good,” she said, glancing at you. “I see why you like her. Alright, Natasha, you’re off to a good start. Come help me in the kitchen, and we’ll see if you can hold your own in there.”

Natasha glanced at you for confirmation, and you gave her a subtle nod. She followed Vivian into the kitchen without hesitation. You followed behind, though, at a slower pace. The next few moments were crucial for first impressions.

"I'll warn you, I'm not a great cook," She said.

"That's alright," Vivian said. "I'll put you to work peeling potatoes or something. Wanna see if you'll pull your weight around here."

You smiled, hearing them chat back and forth. It was a good sign. You were sure your mom would find something Natasha could do.

"You made it," Quincy's voice boomed from behind you. He didn't give you time to react before he pulled you into a bear hug. "And you brought Natasha."

"Of course," You laughed.

"Good." He nodded. "I was worried you were going to bail on us. You never come home anymore."

"Don't start, Quincy," You rolled your eyes. "I was home last Thanksgiving."

"Yeah, after not coming home for a whole year," He said. "Introduce me to your girlfriend." He grinned. He was starstruck.

"She's helping Mom cook," You informed him. You both walked into the kitchen and saw Natasha shaking hands with your sister, Peyton. Brandon was at the counter feeding a few strawberries to Willow as his girlfriend Tori sat beside him on her phone. She seemed completely unaware of the world around her.

"So, you're an Avenger," Peyton said, her tone a little skeptical. "I must admit we didn't believe y/n when she said she was dating you."

"Oh really," Natasha said, quirking an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Well, it's not every day a girl claims she's dating the Black Widow," Peyton pointed out.

"Yeah, but y/n isn't exactly the type to make shit up," Quincy interrupted.

"Language, boy," Vivian warned from her place at the stove.

Natasha chuckled, her eyes flickering to Peyton and then to Vivian, who had her back turned to the stove. "Don’t worry, I’ve heard worse," she said, giving Quincy a playful wink.

"See?" Quincy smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Told ya."

Vivian turned from the stove, placing a wooden spoon on the counter. "Alright, enough with the show, everyone. Peyton, get the table set. Quincy, stop trying to embarrass your sister. And you," she pointed at Natasha, "come help me with this cornbread."

Natasha nodded and stepped over to Vivian, who seemed confident in her kitchen. "What can I do?" Natasha asked, her hands instinctively moving to help without waiting for an answer.

"First things first," Vivian said, pushing a bowl of ingredients toward her, "you’re going to stir this batter, but carefully. I like a nice smooth texture for the cornbread."

Natasha rolled up her sleeves, already comfortable in the space. "I’ve got it. I’ll make it the best cornbread you’ve ever had."

Vivian, clearly pleased, gave her a once-over before speaking again. "You’re making good impressions so far, Natasha. Y/n deserves someone who knows their way around the kitchen." She eyed Natasha for a moment, her smile warm. "You do all your cooking, or is someone else handling that?"

"I do a bit of both," Natasha replied, gently mixing the batter. "But I’m always down for new recipes, especially if they come from someone who knows what they’re doing. I'm not a great cook but a fast learner."

"Well, we'll see how you do here," Vivian said.

"I guess I'll start on the pies," You rolled up your sleeves to wash your hands. A perk of flying in on Thanksgiving day was being late to the party. It was a last-minute decision to come home.

"You better be making a chocolate one," Peyton warned.

"Peyton, hush." Vivian shushed her.

"I can't wait to try it," Brandon said, his attention still on his daughter.

"I think the last thing that kid needs is sugar," Peyton teased, poking the little girl's belly. She squealed, kicking her chubby little legs.

"The sugar is the best part," Brandon retorted, kissing his daughter.

"She's getting big," You observed. "Is she talking yet?"

"No," Brandon said. "Not yet. She'll get there eventually. I can't believe she's a year old. Feels like just yesterday she was born."

"Yeah," You nodded. "Hi, Tori." You said to Brandon's girlfriend.

"Hi," She had the decency to look up from her phone.

You sat at the kitchen table, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you glanced at Tori. Finding someone like her who kept to themselves was rare, but you knew it was essential to show interest. "So, Tori, how's school and everything? I mean, besides, you know, trying to avoid getting caught in the middle of this chaotic family," you teased lightly, gesturing around the room.

Tori blinked, clearly surprised by the question, but then she seemed to soften, a hint of relief in her eyes. "Well, school is fine. I've been attending every day. I want to be a nurse," she said, her voice quieter than usual but more animated than you'd seen before. "I’ve always liked the idea of helping people, you know? I’ve been thinking about moving to Louisiana after high school to study. My aunt lives there, and she’s been telling me to come stay with her while I figure things out."

"That’s awesome," you said, genuinely interested. "Is it something you’ve wanted to do for a while?"

"Yeah," she nodded, looking down at her hands briefly. "I’ve always kind of gravitated toward taking care of people. And... I don’t know. Louisiana feels like a place where I could start fresh, away from all the stuff back here." She paused, her eyes flicking briefly to Brandon, who was still sitting with Willow. "I just... I think I could do more there. Maybe even learn some things to help me get my life on track."

You nodded thoughtfully, respecting her quiet resolve. "I think you’ll do great."

Brandon, listening in from across the room, chimed in with a knowing smile. "Yeah, we're still figuring it all out. Tori's been thinking about it, but we're also trying to figure out how to ensure Willow stays close to family." His expression softened as he glanced at his daughter. "I’m not sure how I feel about taking her away from everyone... but Tori’s excited, and it’s a big opportunity for her."

Tori shot Brandon a small, appreciative smile, though she didn’t say anything.

You could tell there was a lot of unspoken tension around it. You nodded in understanding. "It's a big decision. But I know Willow’s lucky to have you both looking out for her."

"That's so sweet," Tori said.

"I only have to put the collard greens on," Vivian began. "Natasha, do you eat pork?"

"Yes," Natasha answered.

"Good," Vivian nodded.

"What else can I do, Mama Viv?" Natasha asked.

"You're gonna make the biscuits," Vivian ordered.

"Yes, ma'am." Natasha nodded.

Things were going well. Your mom putting Natasha to work meant she was interested in her, which was a plus in your book.

As Natasha busied herself with biscuit-making under Vivian’s watchful eye, Peyton followed you into one of the bedrooms upstairs. You knew by her closeness she was about to say something. Peyton rarely held back when it came to her opinions.

“So,” she began, her tone casual but pointed, “is this thing with Natasha serious? Or is she just another quest, like Melinda?”

You paused, barely glancing at her, placing your bags in the closet. Peyton had always had a knack for finding the most loaded questions to ask, and this was no exception. You took a breath, willing yourself to stay composed.

“First of all,” you said calmly, “Natasha is not a ‘thing.’ She’s my girlfriend, Peyton. And yeah, we’re serious. Also, Melinda wasn't a quest. We were in a relationship for two years."

Peyton shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I’m just saying. You’ve always had a type, you know? Strong, intense, probably a little emotionally unavailable,” she added with a smirk. “And we all know how that turned out last time.”

You shot her a warning look. “Wow, Peyton. Thank you so much for your insight into my love life. Maybe next time, you can try delivering it without the shade.”

“What? I’m just asking the questions everyone else is thinking,” she said, raising her hands defensively. “I mean, you’ve got a history. Don’t you think it’s fair to wonder how long this one will last?”

"Are you going to start? Dinner is less than three hours away," You sighed. "I came to be with family. You didn't even hug me when I came in the door."

"Because you've been here ten minutes," Peyton argued. "Look, I'm not trying to start anything, y/n. I'm just curious. It's not like we see or talk to you very much."

"Well, I've been busy," You retorted.

"You could've called more," Peyton insisted. "The girls miss you."

"I'm sorry," You shook your head. "Law school has been intense."

Peyton’s eyes flicked to the Gucci bag you’d set neatly by the door, her expression shifting into something slightly amused but undeniably pointed. “That’s a nice bag you’ve got there,” she remarked, her tone light but laced with something else. “Designer, right?”

You bristled, sensing where this was going. “Yeah, it’s a gift,” you replied curtly, refusing to elaborate. You’d learned that giving Peyton more information was like throwing fuel on a fire.

“Must be nice,” she said, her voice slightly more severe. “Meanwhile, Mom’s been stressing over the laundromat. She doesn’t say it outright, but I know things have been tight lately.”

You froze, your jaw tightening. “Peyton—”

“She’s paying your tuition,” Peyton continued, folding her arms. “So, I just think, you know, maybe she deserves to know if you’re spending money on fancy bags.”

“It’s a gift,” you repeated, your voice sharper now. “And last I checked, my education was something Mom was proud to support, not some burden she needed you to fight about.”

Peyton shrugged, unfazed by your defensiveness. “I’m not saying it’s a burden. I’m just saying she’s doing a lot. And maybe you could... I don’t know; check in a little more. Be more aware of what’s going on back home.”

“Wow, Peyton. Thanks for the lecture,” you shot back. “I had no idea you were Mom’s financial advisor now.”

“I’m just saying,” Peyton countered. “You’re out there living your life, and we’re holding things down. It wouldn’t hurt to pick up the phone or swing by more often. The girls miss you, Mom misses you, and whether you want to hear it or not, things aren’t easy around here.”

You exhaled sharply, crossing your arms. “Look, I get it, okay? I know I’ve been caught up with school and everything else. But you don’t need to guilt-trip me about it. I’m doing the best I can.”

Peyton’s face softened, if only slightly. “I’m not trying to guilt-trip you, y/n. I just... I worry about Mama, and I worry about you too. You’ve got this shiny new life now, and it’s great, but don’t forget where you came from. That’s all I’m saying.”

You shook your head, annoyance and regret swirling in your gut. Part of you wanted to defend yourself, but another part felt like it was too little, too late. Instead, you breathed and tried to let the frustration melt away. Paying your tuition was something your mother did for each of her children. Quincy had gone to get his mechanical engineering degree and became a product engineer. You're still determining exactly what he does, but he earns an excellent salary. Peyton had gone to college and ultimately dropped out after becoming pregnant with the twins in her junior year. Now it was your turn.

You felt that despite how much your mom wanted you to attend law school, the money was tighter than she'd initially let on. It wasn't that she was stingy. Your mom was the most generous person you knew. But she had her pride. You knew you had to pay her back one day.

"Okay, okay," You said, rubbing your temples. "I've been working a lot. I can take out loans if I have to. Just let me talk to Mom. See what she says."

Peyton didn't look entirely convinced. "If you say so."

"Look, it's been a long trip, and I wanted to see everyone and have a good time," You explained. "Are you going to treat me like this the whole time?"

"No," Peyton rolled her eyes. "We can pretend we're normal and get along for one day."

"Good," You said. "Now, can we please just go hang out with everyone? I didn't come from New York to spend the holiday with you lecturing me."

"I love you, little sister," Peyton said as you began to walk past her. "I apologize for coming across that way."

"I know, Peyton," You sighed.

The two of you walked back downstairs, and you returned to the kitchen to see Natasha holding Willow in her arms. You paused in the doorway, your steps slowing as your gaze landed on Natasha. She held Willow close, her movements careful yet natural, like she’d been doing this forever. Willow babbled happily, one tiny hand clutching at Natasha’s necklace and the other reaching up to pat her cheek. Natasha smiled, a soft, genuine curve of her lips that you didn’t get to see often.

It was... endearing. Unexpected but endearing.

Natasha had always struck you as someone who thrived in control, her precision and composure unshakeable. But here she was, rocking a squirmy, giggling baby in her arms with a quiet patience that made your chest ache the best way.

She caught you watching, her green eyes meeting yours over Willow’s head. “Hey,” she said softly, a trace of shyness in her voice. “She’s a natural charmer, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice catching just a bit. “She likes you.”

Natasha chuckled, shifting Willow so the baby rested more securely against her shoulder. “I like her too,” she admitted. “But, full disclosure, I have no idea what I’m doing. I think she’s just being nice to me.”

You smiled, stepping closer. “You’re doing fine,” you said, your tone warm. “Better than fine. She doesn’t let just anyone hold her without pitching a fit.”

Willow reached for Natasha’s face again, her little fingers brushing against her cheek. Natasha didn’t flinch, just gently caught the baby’s hand and kissed her tiny palm. The sight was almost too much—tenderness wrapped up in someone so unrelentingly strong.

“Do you want her ?” Natasha asked, her voice light but filled with a bit of hesitation like maybe she didn’t want to let go just yet.

You shook your head, leaning against the counter. “Nah, you’re doing great. Besides, I think she’s already picked a favorite.”

Natasha gave a soft laugh, the sound low and genuine. “Guess I’ll have to live up to it, then.”

Vivian came in a moment later. "Everything's all ready," She said.

"Mom, did you make mac and cheese?" Peyton asked.

"Yes," Vivian nodded. "Your daughter requested it."

"Thanks, Mama," Peyton said.

Vivian glanced at you and Peyton, her eyes narrowing. "Y'all weren't fighting, were you?"

"No, ma'am," You and Peyton said in unison.

"Don't lie," Vivian scolded.

"We're fine," You insisted.

"We can save the arguing after Thanksgiving dinner," Peyton added.

"Alright," Vivian shrugged. "I'm not going to pretend to understand you two."

Natasha glanced between you and your sister, but you did not indicate that you were bothered by what had happened.

"Twins are back," Ross called from the front door as he entered the house with Deyjah and Diamond. All you heard was the pitter-patter of little feet as they kicked off their shoes and ran toward the kitchen.

"There's the troublemakers," You joked, ruffling their heads.

"You're back," Diamond exclaimed, pulling you into a hug.

"I am," You laughed, squeezing her back.

"Did you bring presents?" Deyjah asked, looking up at you expectantly.

"I didn't," You said. "It's not Christmas just yet. Girls, there's someone I want you to meet. This is my girlfriend, Natasha."

Diamond and Deyjah eyed Natasha curiously, their matching gazes assessing her with an unnerving and impressive sharpness.

"Why's your hair red?" Deyjah asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Well, I was born with red hair," Natasha explained. "Just like how y/n was born with dark hair."

"I was born first," Diamond announced proudly, puffing out her chest. "But I don't remember."

"Duh, 'cause you were a baby," Deyjah scoffed.

"Girls," Vivian scolded, "don't be rude. Why don't you go wash up for dinner?"

They did as they were told, rushing off to the bathroom.

"They're pretty cute," Natasha began. "How do you tell them apart?" She directed her question to Peyton.

"There are a few subtle differences," Peyton began. "Diamond has slightly better speech than Deyjah. Deyjah always has some sort of bracelet or necklace on. Though if you look closely, Diamond has a tiny mole on the left side of her neck."

Natasha nodded, seeming satisfied. "So, how old are they?"

"Six," Peyton answered.

"Six," Natasha echoed.

"Yep, six going on sixteen," Peyton joked. "They keep me busy most days."

"I can imagine," Natasha chuckled. "They're smart kids."

"Oh yeah," Peyton grinned. "They're smart."

You couldn't help but smile at Natasha's interest in the twins. She seemed genuinely curious and focused solely on Peyton as she talked about the girls. Seeing someone other than your mom and Brandon engaging with her was refreshing.

"This is my husband, Ross," Peyton introduced.

"Pleasure to meet you," Ross shook Natasha's hand. "Big fan."

"He's a fan," Peyton explained. "He loves all that superhero stuff. I'm not really into it, though."

"I can imagine," Natasha smiled. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Ross."

"Yeah, likewise," he replied, clearly starstruck. "How was the flight?"

"It was alright," You answered. "It's good to be back home."

Indeed it was.

******

The dining room was packed, every seat around the table taken, and a few extra chairs were squeezed in to accommodate the crowd. The smell of collard greens, roasted turkey, and freshly baked cornbread filled the air, mingling with the soft strains of gospel music playing from a speaker in the corner. Laughter and chatter echoed through the room as plates and glasses were passed around.

You sat beside Natasha, her hand resting lightly on your knee beneath the table. She looked calm, but you could tell she was soaking everything in—the voices, the warmth, the energy. She wasn’t used to this world, but she fit into it better than you’d expected.

“Alright, y’all, quiet down!” Vivian’s voice rose above the din, commanding attention. The table settled almost instantly, everyone turning toward her.

She stood at the head of the table, a serene yet authoritative presence. “Before we dig in, we’re going to give thanks,” she said, glancing around the room. “Natasha, since this is your first time joining us, I want you to know how happy we are to have you here. Family is everything to us; today, you’re family too.”

Natasha’s eyes widened slightly, and she gave a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Mama Viv. That means a lot.”

"Now, in our household, we start with a prayer before Thanksgiving dinner," Vivian said. "I understand that you may not want to participate."

"No, ma'am," Natasha said.

"Well, okay then," Vivian said. "Now, let's bow our heads."

"Bow our heads, everybody," Vivian instructed, and the room obeyed. You noticed that even Natasha bowed her head a little, though her eyes remained open. "Dear Lord, thank you for bringing our family together today."

Natasha observed the room as the prayer went on. This was like a culture study for her. Experiencing a different family dynamic was intriguing.

"I want to thank you for the food and the company. And I pray that our family continues to stay safe and healthy. Amen."

Everyone lifted their heads and said, "Amen."

"Thank you, Mama," Peyton spoke up.

"Thank you, Mom," Brandon agreed.

"Yeah, thank you, Mama," Your brother, Quincy, said.

"Thanks, Mom," You nodded. The food began to be passed around, with everyone choosing which dishes they wanted and didn't want.

"I don't think we've ever had a guest that didn't participate in the prayer," Peyton commented. "Natasha, you were born in Russia, right?"

"Yeah, well, it's not exactly my thing," Natasha said. "I was born in Russia."

"It's not mine either," you said, hoping to diffuse the tension. "I think we all have ways of being thankful, and it's not anyone else's place to judge."

Peyton gave a slight shrug. "I was just curious. No harm meant."

"I get it," Natasha replied.

"You're welcome here, whether or not you believe in God," Vivian assured. "We're all a little different. It's what makes us interesting."

Natasha flashed Vivian a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you, Mama Viv. I appreciate that."

As everyone dug into their plates, the conversation shifted to lighter topics. Silverware scraping against plates filled the air, with only snippets of conversation breaking through the hum of family conversation. Your mom, ever the host, ensured no one went without refills, while your siblings kept things lively with playful banter. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Natasha enjoying the food. Some of the menu options were things she hadn't tasted before. It was endearing and a little heartwarming to see her want things.

"So, Natasha," Brandon leaned forward. "I gotta ask—who is the coolest person you've met?"

"Um..." Natasha's expression shifted into something thoughtful. "Well, I've met many interesting people in my life. I wouldn't say anyone was cooler than the other. Maybe the president?"

Brandon frowned. "I was hoping for someone a little more exciting."

"That is exciting," Quincy said.

"What?" Brandon protested.

"She's Black Widow, and you're asking her about who she's met," Quincy replied. "I want to know her stats. I mean, she's a spy. You must do some pretty cool stunts. What's your training regimen like?"

"Oh, come on," You lowered your fork. "Can we just not talk about work right now?"

"It's okay," Natasha smiled, patting your hand.

"I can answer a few questions," She said.

"Oh yeah," Brandon smirked. "How many push-ups can you do?"

"A lot," Natasha shrugged.

"Do you do chin-ups?" Quincy asked.

"Yes," Natasha said.

"I'd like to challenge you to a push-up contest," Quincy wiped his mouth. "You seem tough, but I bet I could take you."

"I could do the same," Brandon said. "We could all have a contest."

"I'm not going to do a push-up contest," Peyton shook her head. "It's Thanksgiving."

"Fine," Quincy shrugged. "Brandon and I can do it."

"I don't think you guys understand what you're challenging her to," You said. You knew firsthand how athletic Natasha was. Her stamina was out of this world both on and off the field.

"She's an Avenger," You said.

"So," Brandon shrugged.

"She's a trained assassin," You explained.

"I'm sure we could hold our own," Quincy countered.

"No, you can't," You shook your head.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Brandon put his hands up. "It sounds like you don't want us to take your girlfriend. Afraid she might fall in love with one of us?"

"I'm right here," Tori pinched Brandon. "Behave."

"Sorry, babe," Brandon muttered.

"No, I'm not worried," You rolled your eyes.

Natasha smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement as she leaned forward slightly. "Yeah, I think you guys should sit this one out," she said, her voice laced with humor but just enough seriousness to get her point across. "No offense, but I’ve been around some pretty intimidating people. I’m not exactly shaking in my boots here."

Quincy feigned a wounded expression. "Ouch. So, we’re not intimidating enough for you?"

"Not in the slightest," Natasha quipped, her smirk widening.

Brandon chuckled, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, fair enough. Guess we’ll stick to arm-wrestling each other and leave the assassin stuff to the pros."

Tori gave Brandon a side-eye but couldn’t help smiling. "Maybe you should worry about behaving before trying to impress Natasha."

You shook your head, unable to keep from laughing. "See? Even Tori knows you two would be hopeless."

Natasha reassured your thigh under the table, leaning in close enough that only you could hear. "I like your family," she murmured softly and sincerely.

You smiled at her, warmth blooming in your chest.

"We like you too," Vivian nodded. “It may be time for these boys to get put in their place.”

"I would like to see it," Peyton muttered.

"After dinner, then," Natasha smiled. "I have one condition if I win."

"What's that?" Quincy asked.

"You guys teach me how to play spades," Natasha suggested.

"Deal," Quincy nodded.

"And if you win, we can take some photos together," Brandon said.

"Fair enough," Natasha said.

"This will be interesting," Vivian commented.

"I know, right," Tori chuckled.

It was settled. Natasha would be challenging your brothers to a push-up contest. She was used to men challenging her to do things. It was in their nature almost.

After the meal, you helped clean up while your siblings gathered in the living room. They were ready for Natasha to kick their asses, and you could barely contain your excitement.

"Willow, you're about to watch your Daddy get beat," You whispered to the toddler.

"Don't count on it," Brandon said. "She won't be so confident when we're finished."

"We'll see," You said, setting the child on the couch.

Ross volunteered to be the referee, clearly enjoying the chaos. "Alright, everyone ready?" he asked, standing over the contestants with exaggerated authority.

Brandon and Quincy dropped to the floor with exaggerated confidence, flexing their arms dramatically to show off. Natasha joined them, calm and focused, her form perfect even before they started.

"Okay," Ross said, his voice booming for no reason. "On my count—one, two, three, go!"

The room filled with exaggerated grunts as your brothers enthusiastically attacked their push-ups, counting out each one loudly. "One, two, three—"

Natasha, meanwhile, moved effortlessly, her breathing even and controlled. You noticed she wasn’t counting out loud, focusing entirely on her form. By the fifteenth push-up, Brandon’s face turned red, and Quincy was already starting to slow down.

“That’s it?” Natasha teased, casually switching to one-handed push-ups without missing a beat.

The room erupted into gasps and laughter. Ross's jaw dropped. "Wait, wait, what?!"

"One hand?" Quincy groaned, struggling to keep his pace. "She’s showing off now."

"Is she even human?" Brandon muttered between labored breaths.

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning against the back of the couch. “Don’t worry, Willow,” you told the toddler watching from her perch. “Your daddy’s about to learn a hard lesson.”

Despite their efforts, Natasha’s movements remained smooth and effortless. Not once did her arms so much as tremble. When Brandon and Quincy finally collapsed in a heap, Natasha was still going strong, with a slight smirk as she pushed through another set.

“Thirty-five… thirty-six…” Ross counted, shaking his head in disbelief.

When she finally stopped, Natasha rose gracefully and brushed herself off as if the entire thing had been a warm-up. "Good effort, boys," she said with a smirk, extending her hand to help Brandon.

"You didn’t even break a sweat!" Quincy protested, sprawled on the floor.

"Maybe next time," Natasha quipped, her tone light but undeniably victorious.

Brandon groaned dramatically, glancing at Willow, who was giggling. "Willow, Daddy did his best," he muttered, defeated.

“She’s my new favorite,” Ross declared, earning laughter from everyone in the room.

You walked over to Natasha, shaking your head with an affectionate smile. “Show-off,” you teased.

She leaned in close enough that only you could hear. “You love it.”

She wasn’t wrong.

**********

Later that night, everyone is tucked into their rooms as you help your mom with the dishes. Natasha had taken an early shower to decompress from such a busy day. She wasn't used to big family affairs like this and needed a moment alone. This gave you time to talk with your mom.

As she washed the dishes, you dried them.

"So, what do you think?" You asked as you placed another place in the cabinet. "Do you like her?"

"She's lovely," Vivian nodded. "You seem happy."

"I am," You confirmed.

"Good," Vivian continued washing the dishes.

"She seems to be fitting in well," You said.

"She is," Vivian said. "She's a sweet girl."

"She is," You agreed.

"Are you sleeping with her?"

"Whoa, Mom," You sputtered. She gave you a knowing look, and you sighed. "Why are you asking?"

"I'm your mother," Vivian said. "It's a valid question. Is she a good partner?"

"Yes, she is," You said.

"She doesn't treat you right; I will come and cut her," Vivian threatened.

"She does treat me right," You insisted.

"Then there shouldn't be a problem with my question," Vivian said.

"She does," You repeated.

"Well, I'm glad," Vivian said.

You nodded, continuing the routine of putting the dishes away.

"So, what's next for you two?"

"Next?" You asked, unsure of what she meant.

"Where do you see the relationship going?" Vivian asked.

"Um," You hadn't thought about it much. "I don't know. We're taking it slow. Just enjoying each other's company."

"But do you think it will be a long-term relationship?" Vivian asked.

"I hope so," You said. "I like her and hope the feeling is mutual."

"Well, if you like her and she likes you, I'm sure it will work out," Vivian said. There was a moment of silence. "I see the way she looks at you. The same way your daddy looked at me."

"You think so?"

"I know so," Vivian smiled. "He always had that twinkle in his eye when he talked about me."

You smiled, finishing the last of the dishes.

"I'm happy for you, baby," Vivian said. "You deserve someone who makes you feel special. Someone who puts a smile on your face."

"I'm glad you approve," You nodded. "She's a good person. I know people have their reservations about her past and..."

"People have their reasons for being judgmental," Vivian said. "You know as well as I do that a lot of the time, people are just scared and misguided."

"Yeah," You nodded.

"Besides, your daddy taught me something important."

"What's that?"

"It doesn't matter where a person came from, just who they are," Vivian answered.

"He taught me the same," You replied.

"I know," Vivian kissed your forehead.

You hugged her, feeling a wave of emotions wash over you.

"Mom," You began.

"Yeah, baby?"

"I miss him," You said.

"So do I," Vivian pulled away. "But, we have to carry on without him."

"You know, Peyton told me how things are going at the laundromat," You began. "If my tuition is too much."

"Baby, you're not giving up school because of me," Vivian said. "The laundromat is fine. We just had a bad few months, is all."

"I'm sure we can figure out a way to increase revenue," You suggested.

"Maybe, but not now," Vivian said. "It'll work itself out. I have a little savings if it comes down to it."

"Well, maybe I can talk to the admissions office," You said. "See about a payment plan or loans."

"We'll figure it out," Vivian reassured. "Don't you worry about it?"

"I'm not worried," You insisted.

"You're a horrible liar," Vivian chuckled. "Now, go check on your girlfriend. It's getting late."

You smiled. "Thanks, mom."

"Anytime," Vivian winked.

******

When you returned to your room, Natasha was out of the shower and curled under the covers. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was deep and even, suggesting she was already asleep.

You smiled, careful not to wake her, as you changed into a pair of pajamas and brushed your teeth. As you crawled into bed beside her, she stirred slightly, cracking one eye open.

"Sorry," you whispered, draping an arm across her waist. "Go back to sleep."

"Everything okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, it's fine," you reassured, resting your head on her shoulder.

"Okay," She closed her eyes.

You pressed a kiss to her jaw, snuggling closer. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," She replied. "Thanks for bringing me here."

"Of course," You whispered.

You lay in the darkness for a while, listening to her breathing and enjoying the warmth of her body. Gradually, your eyelids grew heavy, and you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the safety of her arms.

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you

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loganthrives · 1 day ago

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Honestly I don't think shyness is even an excuse anymore. You're not on camera or in a TV interview when you leave a comment. A comment is dropping an anonymous note in someone's locker or on their desk. It is honestly the bare fricken minimum.

Fanfic authors are dropping like flies if the frequency of these posts crossing my dash is any indication. And its almost entirely because of shit like this. Engagement is non-existant.

If there is absolutely zero evidence that anyone actually reads or likes or enjoys the stuff we fic authors put our whole goddamn heart and soul into, why would we continue to write? Why would anyone write?

Imagine performing something - music, a speech, poetry, etc. - in front of a live audience that remains as silent as the grave throughout, and then doesn't even have the common courtesy to clap at the end. That's soul crushing. Why would you ever perform again??

Why would you ever pick up an instrument again? Write a poem again? Why would you bake a cake and share it only to not even get a simple thank you? How is anyone supposed to know that what they did was worth doing when they're only ever met with silence as a response?

Art is a conversation - always has been. The artist is trying to tell you something, to communicate an idea or a feeling, but they are doing it to evoke a response in those who go on to consume it. If there is no response, if its one-sided, then obviously that isn't a conversation.

If you want the fics you love to keep updating, and if you want your favourite artists to keep posting, you've gotta give us some kind of response that makes it worth doing. Its the absolute bare minimum.

Because otherwise the consequence is that you just don't get any more of it. At all. Ever again.

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

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risingsunresistance · 2 days ago

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would you believe me if i said this is skyblock fanart 😭

explanation below for anyone interested. it's a bit long 🐖

basic explanation for people who dont go here. or the tldr: the rift is a separate dimension in hypixel skyblock where reality and time itself do not function the same. the other npcs tend to take on different forms in there. this is my interpretation of what might happen to techno if he were to travel into the rift based on some other theories about the place and my own headcanons for him

less basic explanation for the rest of you: ok so. first thing to get out of the way, the rift isnt completely separate from the main reality. SOME of your own thoughts and feelings influence the way you exist in the realm and the way the realm itself behaves. not very many people seem to take on forms ENTIRELY divorced from themselves, save for maybe enigma (we dont know who he was originally, if he was anyone at all)

but i have a theory backed up by absolutely nothing that your rift form is mostly influenced by three different things: your inherit magic, your ability to control and manipulate that magic, and your overall stability. stability will look different from person to person and you dont always know if someone is stable or not just by talking to them. even something as simple as a phobia might change them drastically. still, the rift is unstable itself, so sometimes people get altered horrifically even though they were perfectly fine

my main points of reference for this are that some of our most altered characters are some who check all these boxes, and some who are relatively normal dont check any of them. lathrop/porhtal is split into a bunch of eyes and has one human-looking form that sits motionless at the wither cage and doesnt speak. we know he was incredibly magical, eventually got a great grip on said magic, but was also very very unstable. the wizard is very magical, is a master of said magic, and is pretty well put together. he is nearly unchanged in the rift. barry is the same as the wizard but went a bit nuts before he left, so in the rift he seems just a bit... off

on the opposite side of things, maddox is someone who we are told has ZERO magic in him. the only thing that changes in the rift is the fact that his helmet is red now. kat has never shown us any magic and seems to be pretty normal, so she's also just a different color palette in the rift and happens to have a weird job

anyways back to techno. (btw if you're reading this and happen to not be a regular here this is a mix of headcanons and "canon" but im treating it ALL as real and true facts for the sake of this drawing ok). he could be one of the most magical people here... but he has no idea how to use any of it on command. if you asked him if he possessed any magic, he would say no. his healing ability, while it is VERY strong, is passive, and he was only able to gather magic during the resistance fight with the help of the wands we were given. but he was able to gather a lot of magic during that fight, concentrate it, and release it all on his own. not many people could handle that. he also worships the blood god and has its blessing, and has some connection with spirits in the form of the voices / chat / whatever you wanna call them. there might be even more to him, who knows

so that's already a setup for disaster, but what about his stability? well he's constantly followed by a chorus of thousands of voices all screaming at him and god itself might be hanging around in that mix, led a war against the server staff and a dictator that lasted for 2 years skyblock time, and did the whole potato war thing which was ~70 years server time iirc. i wouldnt really call him stable KFJHG

so what you end up with is a very violent beastly thing, nearly unrecognizable save for the fact that he's still a pig (my first point, you dont become a COMPLETELY different thing under most circumstances). i think he's entirely out of control of himself and would not remember a trip to the rift. a stability elixir might help him in terms of being more aware of himself (i think sirius really downplayed what that potion does lmao it's not just a fun drink, he wanted to guarantee himself some control over his mind while he was conducting his "business" in the rift) but there's no saving the physical form

i wanted him to be beastly to mimic what happens to "dante" in the rift (the memory of dante, it's complicated. but dante and bacte are most likely two different people who are also the same person). yeah he was a big slime in the overworld, but now he's more monstrous. he also doesnt speak, he might not have any idea what's going on. same could be said for techno in a way. of course this is related to dante, what else would you expect from me :P i want to see them fight at the colosseum so bad...

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

but anyways THIS WAS SO FUN AAAAAUGH IM SO GLAD I FINALLY GOT THROUGH THIS. MY IPAD FINALLY DIED AFTER AN ENTIRE DECADE IN THE MIDDLE OF LINING IT AND I HAD TO CONTINUE ON A NEW TABLET WHEN I'VE SPENT MY ENTIRE LIFE DRAWING WITHOUT A PEN... THIS DRAWING WAS CURSED KJFDHGK

here's a version without chat and the blood god so you can just see the big hog

and here's my old concept from july of last year for comparison :P

initially in the post for the old sketch i said he was based on what i think would happen if he got a hold of some sulphur. i actually think that would be about the same as his rift form because sulphur seems to do very similar things under certain circumstances. always corrupts your form, can sometimes make creatures MUCH larger (matriarch, kuudra, magma boss), heightens your magic (mage outlaw), and can make you incredibly violent (barbarian duke)

bye i hope i tricked someone into reading a really long skyblock theory post expecting more info about techno FKJHG

#RRAAAAAAAAA IM SO GLAD IM DONE WITH THIS MY FUCKING. BEAST. THE FUCING 🐖🐖🐖 THE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#uhhhh click for quality i think? it looks blurry on my end rn in my drafts #ok quick how do i clog the tags enough to where i can still be consistent on my blog but it doesnt show up in main tags #there is a whole. animation. sitting in my head okay. i know EXACTLY how he is exiting the rift portal #tbh i might make it kinda like a comic strip #i will not name any of the other staff in the post fuck you figure it out yourself KJFHDG #i dont know if i have it in me to make That many drawings without inevitably abandoning it ;-;#even if they are just sketches THAT'S A LOT #but i have to draw him again i cant just do nothing with this #do you think this is enough tags have i rambled enough #technoblade #sb #my art #LONG POST #sb lore

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luimagines · 2 days ago

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Scales and Feathers, Tails and Tethers Part 3

Chapter three of King Dragon Time, anyone? :)

Masterlist

First Chapter/ Previous Chapter/

Content under the cut!

Time stiffened his back. His tail swung irritatedly behind his form, wings spread in an almost territorial display. The blood had drained from his face, giving an unnatural paleness to his already otherworldly appearance.

You were limping, with your arm over your stomach as if you were keeping your entrails where they belonged. “Good afternoon Your Majesty. Forgive me. I did not intend to be late.”

He growls lowly, getting impossibly more tense as he sees you. Your disguise is less than pristine, something you would have never allowed otherwise. “You’re here…You…” He growls again. “Why haven’t you come in to report? You know the clear statements of our contract.”

You sigh. This was what you feared. Despite his otherwise threatening nature, his voice wobbles and you can fear an uptilt to his voice. Panic. You didn’t think he was capable of the emotion. Still, you’re sore, in pain and lacking the patience to think beyond what’s been given to you. You’re not going to think of the implications.

“I got sick.”

“For two months?”

“Yes.”

He fumbles, breaking the still nature of his posture, tail aside. He breaks character, stepping down one step from his throne before he stops himself once more. His tail swishes behind him with more wild agitation, nearly hitting the very thorne by the wall. His initial anger dims and he moves back to sit on the throne. You can see the way his jaw clenches and how his knuckles go white from the force of his grip on the arm rests.

You gulp quietly. You know that he knows that you're lying.

The King takes a deep breath, wanting to stay angry with you for worrying him so. He wants to be angry that you’re actively lying to him. “Where were you?”

“Hospital.”

Time manages to hit the wall behind him with his tail. Warrior stands on edge at the far wall of the throne room. You know better than to look at anyone else other than The King when he gets like this.

But you’re very tired. You want to go home.

He growls. “You could have said something-”

A leg gives out from underneath you and you fall to your knee, barely catching yourself as it was.

Time shuts up instantly, eyes widening. He jumps to his feet once more, milliseconds from jumping down the steps to his throne to catch you.

With a rueful laugh, you push yourself back up before he can reach you. Neither of you noticed (or at least verbally acknowledged) that he ran toward you.

"Admittedly, I debated coming here even today. I'm not... I'm still not ok..."

Time can feel his worry dampen his anger completely. He stands at a distance still, a wall between you both being kept up now that you’re on your own two feet once more. His tail continues to restlessly twist behind him like a disgruntled cat.

You smirk a bit, trying to keep up appearances. "As you can imagine, I have nothing to report seeing as I've been out of commission for these past months... Nothing... Nothing substantial anyway..."

Time gulps. "....What happened?..."

"Got sick." You shrug, trying to keep yourself light hearted and worry free. You think you’re about to pull some of your stitches. You’re still not sure if coming today was a good idea. It feels too soon from a physical standpoint alone.

There was a part of you that worried about the King though. You felt obligated to explain yourself. So you came. Now that it’s done, you feel as if your duty has been completed.

The King bites his lip, trying to read your body language. "Would you like to sit down?"

"With all due respect…” You trail off, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before you force yourself to stand straight. Yup, you pulled some stitches for sure. “I’d... I’d like to go home now, Your Majesty."

"Of course." Time deflates. He watches you move, brows furrowing as he forces himself to keep his distance.

He watches the way you favor your left side and how you try to keep yourself from limping and folding over. Time steps down again, quietly, silently in the way that all predators can move before Warrior steps forward at last to stop him with a single raised hand.

Time scowls at the younger man but falls back again, leaving the throne entirely as Warrior walks to catch up with you. He’s been watching you this whole time with that short interaction you have with the King and the smell of blood isn’t lost on him.

You feel a sudden heat behind you but when you look, Warrior was only inches from putting a hand on your shoulder. He lets his hand drop at once. “Are you ok?”

“Captain.” You sigh, flinching before you can stop yourself. “I really really just want to go home right now.”

“Let me walk you home.”

“You always say that.” You shake your head. “And you know what I always say.”

“I’m serious.” Warrior stresses, putting his hand on your wrist. His grip is delicate but you’re not fooled. He could easily pick up you if he wanted to. Such is the superhuman strength of a dragon. “You scared us. At least let me make sure you’re safe. His Majesty was virtually inconsolable. He was about to tear up the kingdom to look for you.”

That stops you. Still. You’ve gone to great lengths to keep your secret identity well, secret. There’s a slight warmth beginning to blossom in your side though, and you know your magic won’t hold for much longer. You need to get home. Now.

“Captain, thank you for the offer. I truly appreciate everything you’ve done for me and continue to offer but I really can’t do this.” You take his hand off of you. It’s not lost on you that you do it so easily. “But I really should get home as it is. T-...Take care of His Majesty, ok?”

Warrior sighs, and a small tongue of flame flicks out of his mouth as he turns his head away,. “You’re just as stubborn as he is.”

“I’m sorry.” You step back, taking out your notebook. Your pen is a familiar weight in your hand as you flick open the pages. Quickly writing D-O-O-R, a glitter of light sparkles behind you, summoning the door that you know and have grown to love.

This time The Captain fully growls at you. His eyes sharpen into an unnatural green as his fangs grow into his mouth. It makes you gasp, taking a full step away from him. His gaze is locked onto you. “You’re weak enough as it is. You shouldn’t be using your power.”

You gulp again. The force of his power is stronger than you originally thought. It dawns on you that you’ve underestimated the King’s right hand man this entire time. With a robotic jerk of your hand, you put it on the door handle, ready to make a run for it if this creature you’ve angered decides to strike. “This is my door. My home. …I’ll be alright.”

It doesn’t seem to settle him as you’d hoped. He snarls again and crosses his arms. His eyes don’t retreat back to the normal blue you’ve grown accustomed to but he nods his head. “Go on then. And make sure you rest properly.”

You nod back and enter the door, locking it on the inside for good measure before opening your notebook once more to erase the word you’ve written. That should have eliminated the door beside the Captain, leaving your apartment safe and sound once again from anyone wishing to find you.

With a shaky breath, you let the magic fall from around you, leaving you in your injured and perfectly normal civilian state. You lean on the door, sinking to the floor with a sharp hiss. Looking down, you lift your shirt. White bandages are wrapped tightly around your abdomen. They’re unblemished for the most part except for the blooming pink stain on your left side. You tore stitches. Just like the doctor said you would if you weren’t careful.

It was a calculated gamble. But never let it be said that you were a prodigy at math.

You groan loudly, not caring if your neighbors heard you. You’re going to have to go back to the doctors, or painfully do it yourself. You know how. You’re not sure how you know how but you know that you know how.

You sit on the floor, getting up only when you feel your stomach begin to protest the lack of food.

Something on your balcony catches your eye. Another gift perhaps, you think. It would be poor timing for one.

You step out but there was nothing there, save for a small bright green sticky note. You pick it up and bring it inside. The message was simple but bone chilling.

“I know who you are.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #modern au #dragon au #linked universe x reader #lu x reader

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cherubshert · 3 days ago

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contents: Mentions of drinking alcohol. fluff

a/n : not proofread:p this is just fiction not real !! i really do wanna write longer works,and I do have ideas for some, it's just the laziness feels more appealing. I don't even think anyone would wanna read that from me.

"I told you not to drink too much." Jungwon scolds, clutching your legs around his waist he climbs up the stairs leading to your apartment. "I didn't drink too much." you grumble into his ear, gripping the buckle of your heels tighter.

His eyebrows furrow as he jumbles your keys, unlocking your apartment door, the darkness welcoming you. He takes for heels from your hands tossing them beside your door, kicking off his shoes before walking towards your room.

"You mad at me wonnie?" your voice slurs, pouting as you kiss the bottom of his ear. he huffs in faux annoyance, pushing your room door open.

You fall to your bed with a soft thud, curling into your cool bed sheets, drunken mumbles leaving your lips.

He leaves to grab you a glass of water, coming back to your half asleep figure, making you sit up, and watching you down the glass, your head leaning against his chest.

He turns to place the glass by your bedside table, both your hands going to cup his cheeks pulling him close enough to kiss the corner of his lips.

"Love you wonnie." he can't help but smile, letting you drift off to sleep in his arms. "love you too."

#jungwon fluff #cherubshert diary #cherub𔘓works #jungwon is so cute soft pretty boy #i l.o.v.e #jungwon imagines #jungwon scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop x black reader

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lovecla · 2 days ago

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FAKE IT ‘TILL YOU MAKE IT, phase one:

➴ chapter warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 2.1k

💌 from me to you: i heard it’s thanksgiving in the us so happy thanksgiving to all of you!! thank u so much for all the love in part one, but here’s where the fun really begins. also, thank u for the 500 reblogs <3 i love u all so much and i’m thankful for all of u. 🤍

𖧷

emmaroberts

Newark, New Jersey

liked by nicohischier, dawson1417, ninahischier and 603 others

emmaroberts night out :)

View all 30 comments

user1 it’s so funny to me how the hischiers always like emma’s pics like they love her 😭

miaturner YOURE SO FINE HELP HELP HELP CALL THE COPS

emmaroberts miaturner mia you’re mentally challenged but i love you a lot

user2 it’s not even been five minutes since she’s posted and nico’s already in the likes

user3 user2 and so is nina so???? your point??

tmeier96 Why was I not invited 😢

emmaroberts tmeier96 next time we’ll call you promise

user4 ok. have u guys seen nico’s story

user5 user4 omg yes do you think they were dining together

user6 user5 user4 it wouldn’t be THAT much of a surprise bc they’ve been friends for AGES

user4 user6 you’re right i guess 🤷‍♂️

𖧷

nicohischier and emmaroberts added a new story!

𖧷

THE FLORAL perfume you had chosen for the night was bothering you, yet you had no one to blame but that one lady at Sephora who offered you a huge deal and made you buy it even if you didn’t like it that much.

Realistically speaking, you knew that the perfume wasn’t really the issue here. You were nervous about this whole fake-dating thing, even if you’d been your idea to begin with.

Lying and faking things weren’t really your deal. As a child, you’d always get in trouble because you could never lie properly. Growing up, you also faced your own problems because you can’t lie.

But you really want to help Nico.

Tonight’s Luke’s 21st birthday, and you had been invited to his little birthday dinner, a small celebration with people from his team and close friends, which included you. Although, you’re going more as a plus one than a friend, but Luke doesn’t need to know that.

A knock on your bedroom door has you turning your head around, facing Nico as he leans on the door frame and crosses his arms in front of you.

“You look nice,” he compliments you, and you smile, putting your arms behind you.

“Thanks. So do you.”

“So,” he claps his hands, sighing. “Are we ready? What’s the game plan for today?”

You take a deep breath, mentally repeating the “plan” you’ve been working on.

“Okay, this is what we’re going to do tonight, and Nico, you have to take this really seriously or else—”

“You sound really scary right now—”

“Nico.”

“Okay,” he pouts. “Go ahead.”

“All of your teammates are going to be there tonight and if anyone is going to help us fool Nora Ellis, it’s them,” you walk around the room, moving your hands as you explain your thoughts. “If we make ‘em believe that we are very much in love and together, then we’ll be safe.”

“That will be kind of hard,” he shrugs. “We’ve been friends for a while and we’re close but… I don’t know.”

“Nico,” you step closer, standing in front of him. “For this lie to work, you have to believe it. We have to believe it. It’s the only way we’ll be able to make this work.”

He whistles. “You know a lot for someone who can’t lie to save her life and started crying when I asked you if you had turned my jerseys pink when you decided that washing them with Nina’s pink shirt was a good idea.”

You roll your eyes and bite your lips, trying to hide your smile. “I just read tons of books.”

“When was the last time you—”

“This isn’t relevant right now!” you point your finger at him. “What’s relevant is: we need to make your teammates believe we’re together and in love. Think you can make it?”

Nico smirks, poking your cheek with his finger.

“When have I ever backed out of a challenge?”

“You’ve been around Jack for too much time, you’re getting too cocky,” you joke, crossing your arms. “So, the second part of your plan: PDA, pet names and touching.”

“Go on, little genius.”

“Lots of touching,” you say, feeling your cheeks get warm as you emphasize the word lots, making you want to look elsewhere. You don’t. “Lots of PDA and I guess we can squeeze some pet names in there too.”

“What?” he chuckles. “Want me to call you baby? Sweetheart?”

You spend the next five seconds forcing your face to remain red-less and your heart to stop beating so fucking fast— you were afraid Nico might hear it, considering how close you were and how fast it was going.

Gulping, you continue. “I don’t want anything,” you mumble. “I just think it’ll work.”

“Then we’re fine,” he claps again, moving his hair around. “Do we need to discuss something else?”

You look at the watch on your wrist and click your tongue.

“We don’t have time, we have to leave now,” you walk towards your bed and grab your purse, your phone and your wallet. “We can talk more in the car.”

“Lead the way, baby.”

Oh God, you think as you hear Nico’s laugh and comments about how fun this is all going to be, what have I done?

𖧷

“OKAY, AND remember, we started dating a month ago but we kept it super lowkey,” you remind Nico as you walk by his side towards the restaurant Luke chose for the night. “I hate lobster, you hate pop music.”

“I don’t hate it—”

“Strongly dislike,” you smile, before looking down, where Nico had just slipped his hand and intertwined both of your hands together.

Right. You’re dating.

Entering the fancy place, you felt Nico’s body close to yours, and you tried your hardest to keep your cool. You were used to being close to him but not in this way, not like this—

“Hischier!” Jack shouts across the room and you almost want to knock him out with your own two hands for yelling like this and drawing everyone’s attention to you and Nico. “And… Emma?”

It was almost comical how grown men looked interested in your hands together, and how many smiles you could see directed at both of you. Your grip on Nico’s hand tightened without you even realizing it did, and you smiled politely at Luke and the rest of the Devils.

Nico let go of your hand for a second before shaking hands with Luke, wishing him a happy birthday like an old grandpa.

“Hey, Emma, thanks for coming.” Luke hugs you briefly, barely touching you, and you grin.

“Happy birthday, Lukey.”

“Emma!” Mia, one of your best friends, shouts and gets up, running to you. She hugs you tightly, and you hug her back, happy to see her again after weeks. “I didn’t know you were coming! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I forgot,” you lie, feeling your cheeks getting warm. Mia looks at you like a human lie detector and you can tell she sees right through your bullshit but, happily, she doesn’t say anything else. “Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. Ella’s here, too.”

You look around and try to find Ella, smiling when you see her sitting beside Luke, quietly speaking to one of the wives sitting beside her.

“I’ll talk to her later.” You reply.

You and Nico spend the next five minutes greeting the other people there, the rest of the players and some of the girlfriends before finally sitting down by Jack’s side— per his request, you must say. Nico’s hands immediately found yours as you placed them on top of the table, before grabbing the menu and smiling at you, brown eyes full of mischief.

“What do you want to eat, baby?”

Before you could even think of what to say, Jack’s loud and annoying laugh filled the table. “I fucking knew it! Hamilton, you owe me a hundred bucks!”

“Oh, man,” Hamilton sighs as he picks up his phone. “Couldn’t you guys keep hiding your relationship for a little bit more?”

“W-What do you mean?” you ask, looking at him before looking at Jack again.

“Dougie and I made a bet: if you made your relationship public by the end of the year, I’d win,” Jack starts, and you can tell how proud he is. “But if you didn’t, he’d win. Thankfully, I know my man here always gets my back.” He cheers, slapping Nico’s shoulder.

“You’re such a fucking child, Hughes.” Mia hisses before looking at you, clearly asking you why you hadn’t told her before.

“Shut up, princess. Now,” he grins. “My money, Dougie.”

You stare at them in disbelief, while Nico puts on his best performance and squeezes your hands together, smiling like he had just been caught eating snacks before lunch.

“Sorry, guys. We were just waiting for the right time,” he explains, and he sounds so natural you have to remind yourself to keep your surprise hidden. “Didn’t want to be like you and rush things.”

“Oh, screw you,” Jack laughs. “We all knew. You’re not slick.”

They kept talking while you tried to hide the fact that the things they were saying made no sense. Because you and Nico have never been close, romantically speaking. Sure, you’re friends, best friends if you want to go that way, but dating?

And, okay, you’re used to people thinking you’re together, because apparently a guy and a girl can’t be friends anymore, but this? The fact that they were sure of your “relationship” with Nico, sure enough to bet? This is surreal.

“Did you choose already?” Nico whispers to you, and you look at him with wide eyes. You don’t answer, trying to find the right things to say so you don’t screw up everything. “Baby? Are you okay?”

You nod, blinking a few times before staring at the menu in Nico’s hand again. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I think I’ll get the Caesar Burger, please.”

“Great choice.” He smiles at you, before telling your orders to the waiter.

You thought that your biggest concern here would be Nico, but in reality, it’s going to be you. You can’t really deal with too much attention on you, that’s why you’ve been keeping yourself in the shadows for this long— Hockey players can be loud and invasive sometimes, and you’d rather hang out with their kids or parents, because they won’t ask questions you don’t want to answer.

“So,” Timo starts, sipping on his beer and resting his chin on his hands, looking like a goddamn school girl. “What made you decide it was finally time? Sie ist ein hübsches Mädchen, Nico.”

Nico looks at you, smiling. “Ja, ist sie,” he nods, and even if you have no idea of what they’re talking about, you smile too, because Nico’s smile makes you want to smile. “And, I don’t know, man. If you had a girl who looked like this,” he points at you with his head. “Would you want to hide her?”

“Nico, he won’t ever get a girl like Emma,” Dougie laughs before getting shoved by Timo. “Ouch.”

“Well, I think it’s nice you guys are finally out.” Palat’s wife says, making you smile and rest your head on Nico’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” you say, sweetening your voice to the max. “I think we were just trying to understand where we stood before, y’know, letting everyone know.”

“How did the Hischiers take it?” Mia asks, looking extra curious. “I bet Nina was happy.” Like I would’ve been if you had told me sooner, she mouths, making you cringe. Sorry, you mouth back.

“They took it well,” you lie through your teeth, squeezing Nico’s arm more than you probably should. “And Nina is just glad her sister-in-law isn’t a Hockey obsessed girl.”

People laugh and you can’t help but feel you had just gotten your approval from Nico's friends.

Nico changes the topic of the conversation, moving back to Luke, the star of the night, and you’re glad for it. You eat side by side with him, you laugh at his jokes, you’re constantly touching him, as he’s constantly touching you.

“We should go out some time,” Mia says, casually, like she doesn’t mean anything by it. “Y’know, catch up.”

“Like anyone would willingly choose to spend a day with you.” Jack bickers, and Mia rolls her eyes at him.

“Go fuck yourself, Hughes.”

“Hey, guys,” Luke yells from the other corner of the table. “You promised you’d be nice to each other today. It’s my birthday.”

“I said no such thing—”

“You can’t even hear what we’re saying—” They both say at the same time.

“Jack and Mia. Shut. Up.” Luke says and they both pout while they shut up.

“It’s so funny because they’re much more alike than they think.” You whisper to Nico, smiling as he places his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly.

“They sure are, baby.”

It all seems so… natural. It’s weird and unsettling, but you’re fine with it as long as it helps people buy your lie. Also, the feeling of Nico’s heavy hand on your thigh isn’t really unpleasant.

The rest of the evening flies by and when you notice, it’s time for you to leave. You almost don’t want to, for the first time, happy to spend time with the players.

“D’you think they bought it?” You ask when you’re away from the guys and the restaurant. Your hands are still together but none of you notice it.

“I think they did,” he chuckles. “Actually, it was a lot easier than I was expecting.”

None of you address the fact that they already thought you were dating, though.

“Yeah,” you whisper, looking at your heels. “Phase one is complete, then.”

“I like how seriously you’re taking this,” he says, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to look down at you, dimples on display for the whole world to see. Yet, you were the only one watching them right now. “Thank you. Truly.”

You smile, standing on the tip of your toes and giving him a light, brief kiss on the cheek, as you’re used to doing.

“You’re welcome.”

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archivists-decay · 22 hours ago

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I've been playing Great God Grove from @limbolanegames over and over again recently (If you're seeing this, go give @yugsly and @daylane some serious love! It's a wonderful experience) and I have a very tiny headcanon that the ascended gods actually have very little influence over the world in the traditional "god power" sense.

Some story and ending spoilers under the cut.

My headcanon is that they have some influence, like Miss Mitternacht's crying leading to flooding, Cobigail's vines (which, I'm not entirely sure were even intentional to begin with,) but rather, the benefit of Godhood comes from being given immortality (read: an infinite amount of time to further develop a skill) and notoriety (read: everyone believing you are THE subject matter expert of the namesake you embody).

When Bauhauzzo talks about being only being able to assist you in BuzzHuzz with his voice, I don't think that's just because he's "only" the God of Memory – I think it's because that's about the extent of their greater influence as gods.

Their eternity spent honing their crafts makes their opinions on the subjects infallible to the people - even if we know they aren't.

Click Clack's last few scripts have been terrible? Well, we think they suck, but we have to get them to post anyways – he sees something we don't.

Bauhauzzo wants innovation banned from BuzzHuzz? Seems out of character, but he's remembering something we don't.

Their voices, or what the people believe are their voices, are listened to with reverence when it comes to their field of mastery — and I think that's one of the reasons King might have said some things to Inspekta that he interpreted as "disrespectful."

In the 30+ years of his godhood, Inspektas ideas of Leadership have clearly severely regressed from his time as a human – mostly due to his insecurities, granted – but he didn't spend any of that time polishing up what leadership meant, or helping others grow in their own leadership, instead, resting on his laurels of being adored and keeping his men down so that they continually lift him up. King probably caught on to this and tried to have a heart to heart with him, one that just...was poorly received.

My headcanon makes me think that, tragically, Inspekta had the potential to become one of the most influential and beloved gods in the grove overtime anyways if he had spent as much time working on his genuine leadership as he had plotting and being envious of the others. Not being tied down to a specific location in the grove, having a loyal group of activists willing to spread his ideas about leadership, on top of his skillset being just, a really good general aptitude that anyone can benefit from. Just some thoughts.

Addendum: Also, I think it's interesting that it almost seems like mortals have more power over the pantheon in this Universe. Sure, the gods close the rift, but the rest of the time? Mortals can exile (Huzzle Mug), abandon (Cobigail was left alone for 20 YEARS), and twist the words and intentions (Pretty much everyone) of the gods like it's nothing with very little consequences from the gods themselves — it's a refreshing approach to a fictional mythology and something I'd like to see explored more in fiction.

Anyways, thanks for letting me ramble! I've been thinking about these silly queers all week.

#great god grove #great god grove spoilers #inspekta #bauhauzzo #godpoke #mythology #headcanon #limbolane

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rambles-on-dragon-age · 1 day ago

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The Veil Jumpers were founded by the Dalish but the Dalish aren't their only members. Did you skim past the literal intro to the Veil Jumpers when you were making your character? Arlathan Forest is riddled with reality warping magic and it's incredibly dangerous. They know it's incredibly dangerous and they risk their lives being there and exploring. There are still deeply mistrustful Dalish clans in the area re: the ones being massacred by the Evanuris that escaped that they're trying to help, that's just not the faction we meet. And if you forget, it is crawling with Tevinter Agents (the Venatori) as we have to fight them constantly.

I suggest you play the intro again because they don't meet Bellara and then walk into the bubble; they have already been in the bubble by time they meet Bellara. That's why her intro speech includes "hey, would love to go back with you to Veil Jumper camp, but we can't leave the bubble. Can walk in, cannot walk out. We are stuck." You comment on the funny fog you're walking through before you find her which is the "shell" of the bubble. You are already trapped in there with her, the resident expert, and probably only person that can free you. She has the upper hand in every respect and she knows it; she's just also, as a character, very open and curious and trusting through the rest of the game. You think it would be "more interesting" for her to act out of character and like she's still in a Dalish clan and doesn't like anyone she meets. You're projecting your personal desires at a character and situation that doesn't fit them. That's not the writer's fault, that's on you that you think all Dalish need to act the same. Then again, that gives you purchase to write all the fic you want to rewrite the scenes for your enjoyment.

Also, what proof would they give that they're from the Veil Jumpers besides the inside knowledge that Strife sent them (the name of their leader) because she's the best at elven magic (she is)? That stuff's probably not things that a massacring Venatori crew much cares about. Like what, a lil note from Strife that says "They're not evil." "Hey they're cool." "Trust me bro." or like a hall pass/badge that they give to their newest outsider friends? Arlathan forest has been long picked through of the best stuff and treasure hunters; what's left is incredibly dangerous and the Tevinter gits that try to steal it usually die in the process. Being a Veil Jumper is dangerous after all and the forest doing things it shouldn't is why the Veil Jumpers were founded.

And yes, you are missing the context. 10 years of in-world context apparently. Dragon Age is a mixed media franchise. There's an anthology of short stories, Tevinter Nights, that set up some of the factions and some of our companions and NPC friends and a four volume comic series, The Missing Collection, that details some of Varric and Harding's adventures before picking up Rook (that they picked up cause The Missing makes it obvious that Solas knows them too well and they need a new person that would throw him for a loop). You don't even have to buy them if you can't, you can find where people reupload them for free and share the download link. You can also read the wiki page and get a quick synopsis of each story instead if that's too much work. It'll give you a pretty good idea of the big themes and actions, though you'll miss the good little details. Dragon Age has never contained all of the story in the games. (see, setting up Celene and Briala and meeting Felassan in The Masked Empire or the fact that it's Fiona that's Alistair's mom and Duncan's old friend in The Calling.) Ruins of Reality (free as part of the Dragon Age Day celebration) shows Strife and Irelin getting involved with some of that dangerous awakening magic in Arlathan forest and can be safely viewed as a precursor to why they founded the Veil Jumpers. Between that short story and The Missing is when the group is founded.

But skipping all of that, we learned at the end of Trespasser that Solas was out in the world and has spent 10 years freeing slaves and spreading the news of his self and what he's working towards. He tells the Inquisitor much of the same information he's going to share with others when they catch up to him at the end of the game. Strife and Irelin are the ones that tell you the Evanuris were bad news when you meet them (Rook: OH joy I thought Solas was lying); safe to say, that means it's more likely to be common knowledge now between Solas and Morrigan running around then not. Bellara felt the fuckening happening with the Veil and the magic all starting back up again; it's an easy to accept explanation that that fuckening and the sky getting all weird a few days ago was Solas's ritual that went wrong and the gods busting out of their prison. Gods that they already know are bad news.

You're upset that the faction that welcomes anyone into their ranks with a common goal isn't acting like a Dalish clan when they are not a Dalish clan. It's not shallow writing, it's you getting an idea in your head of how you wanted their meeting to be and then calling it shallow writing.

We do, actually, see slavery in the slavery capital. Even though Neve tells us to our face in no uncertain terms that we are in the poorest part of the city and people here can't afford to have slaves. We walk through multiple homeless camps. There are people in cages and chains down by the docks. You have a mission to kill mercenaries capturing people to sell as slaves. You need to clean up the Blight in that tunnel under the Shadow Dragon hideout because that's a path they use to get slaves out of the city. There's notes about their other escape paths crumbling and needing work so they can keep going. "There's no slavery in Minrathous!!" you walked into a closet and asked why there's no toilet in this bathroom. There was slavery in Minrathous; they just didn't take us to the rich part of town and rub our faces in it to make sure people wouldn't miss it.

The Crows are putting on their best face to their new ally cause they would really really like help with their occupation problem. Crow!Rook and Lucanis have banters about how deadly and grueling and cruel their training was. Lucanis is the last of his family because of infighting slaughtering the rest. Illario straight sold him out to a blood mage, kills that blood mage before she can snitch, and then sells out the other crows and kidnaps/fakes the murder of his grandmother just because he wants to be first crow. There's more, I'm just not hunting it down. Someone else already compiled a post about all the banters showing the Crows are still a bloody problem. Again, the game didn't rub our faces in it so it's magically not there? It's there, it's just not in the limelight right now because of the whole "escaped gods trying to destroy the world" thing happening.

The factions themselves don't even interact until the final battle and only if you've helped them all. And things are kind of cut to the bone by then; it's do or die on a global scale. The cultural conflict does happen between your hired coworkers though. It's mostly in banter so you have to take the time to get to it (like most of the best details in these games tbh) but again not rubbing our faces in it doesn't mean it wasn't in the game.

Not everyone is super devout to their religion in real life either; we are in the North of Thedas instead of the South. Dorian never seemed as religious as the others, either. In fact he thinks they're going to think he's influencing you in terrible ways Inquisitor. Tevinter has never sounded as religious as the South seems and the South is where we've been. (Exluding Kirkwall, but they are operating like the Southern Chantry so it's safe to lump them in with Southern Chantry Behaviors.) How do you expect the writers to shoehorn the Black Divine into the game? Like, where would it have been appropriate? What would the Black Divine have to do with the little people and back alley factions we're working with here outside the Mourn Watch? Tevinter has long established that their Chantry is basically a figurehead and that the Magisterium is the ones that have the real power and do all the actual "work". We don't have any devout Chantry employed people like we have in past games, either, for them to bring it up and talk about it. *EDITING TO ADD A CORRECTION* It's no longer kind of hinted by conversations and codex entries, The Viper/Ashur is the Black Divine. We literally met the Black Divine and didn't even know it because they don't advertise it. Makes sense cause like if that's common knowledge then he'd probably be assassinated. But this man literally looked at the Magisterium, realized it was failing the people, and started an organization with one he could trust after they were stripped of their title to take direct action. Why couldn't he just give orders and do that as the Divine? Because as Divine he doesn't have political power here. Like. It was right there. He is actively among the little people as himself because his political self as Divine was powerless.

How would you expect them to arbitrarily shove in and retread the exact same stuff for a fourth time? EA set them up for an impossible task, repeatedly hamstrung them and their team, and they still produced a good game.

It felt shallow to you but it also sounds like you barely scratched the surface and didn't really bother taking the time to thoroughly explore what the game offered because you were so offended it wasn't what you, personally, wanted out of it. Which is fine, just say it's a bad game. But absolutely flying past what the game does have while you insist it doesn't have those very things?

a really cool part about dragon age veilguard is the first scene where you meet bellara, especially if you're a shadowdragon mage and you have neve with you

so to set the scene: bellara, the dalish elf who's devoted her life to the conservation, discovery and protection of her people's lost and ancient history, meets two strangers, two tevinter mages, in sacred arlathan. They tell her, hey your gods are back in the world but also they suck and we gotta kill them, and instead of telling them "fuck off you vile enslaving shem, you defile this land with your presence" like most normal dalish, not only does she instantly believe them that her gods are bad for some reason, they're back among the people and need to be stopped, she also happily starts telling them all kinds of secrets and valuable knowledge about ancient elven magic and is even so kind to, without question, take them on a grand tour of this very historically important and sacred ruin in arlathan to find a truly priceless artifact, a one of a kind archive of ancient elven knowledge thought lost forever, because really, what could these unknown tevinter mages possible want with that!

...

are these writers smoking crack?? is that it? theyre smoking crack??

#fandom critical #veilguard spoilers

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transformers-spike · 8 hours ago

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hey! been reading all your stuff and absolutely love what you do. i got an idea regarding team prime having their first christmas party at the base (june insisted), and they’re each introduced to the concept of kissing under mistletoe

I'm going for something where the reader is already in a relationship with the bot of choice. It's mostly just cute interactions with a hint of spice mid post.

Optimus takes it rather well considering… everything. He’s got a team to lead, a dead planet on his conscience and a homoerotic rivalry with his ex-best friend/murderous dictator who’s obsessed with him. Life could be a lot better right now. But it also could be a lot worse. He’s content watching from the sidelines as his fellow Autobots enjoy a new part of Earth culture. Don’t mind him, he’ll join in once his work is done. For now the best he can do is flash you an encouraging smile as you fail to string out the Christmas lights for the fifth time in a row – you can do it, he believes in you. He tries his best to seem oblivious when you climb the ladder June is holding still (the ultimate wingwoman), keeping a close optic behind the terminal just in case things go south and he has to catch you. When you call his name with the goofiest smile on your face, he beams at you, equal parts pride and cute aggression. “Hey,” you drawl, doing your best to seem as charming as possible while holding on for dear life on the only thing stopping you from plummeting to the ground. “So there’s this Christmas tradition you may not have heard about…” He attentively listens to the explanation, nodding his helm and faking surprise when he hears what mistletoes entail. His spark stutters in his chassis when you ask him, sheepishly averting your gaze, if he’d like to partake in this human tradition. He graciously accepts, hovering a servo over your frame (in case you stumble back in shock) and leans in for you to initiate the kiss. Yes, Miko told him. Yes, she ruined the surprise. No, he won’t tell you because he’s never seen you happier getting to kiss him.

Ratchet is unimpressed. At least that’s what he wants you to believe. He’s so invested in decorating he spends every minute off work painstakingly stringing obnoxiously bright garlands around the railings and holding the kids in his servos to reach the highest branches of the gigantic and possibly illegally uprooted Christmas tree. He’s complaining about the time he will waste taking down the decorations, but everyone in the base knows damn well he’s going to keep them on as long as he can. You don’t even have to bring up the mistletoe, he’s overheard enough from the crappy Holiday-themed movies the kids have been watching to secretly crank up the charm while scoffing on the outside. You’re watching the kids place the final touches on the tree, a mug of eggnog in one hand while helping yourself to some Santa-shaped sugar cookies. You barely notice Ratchet leaning in with a minuscule strand of mistletoe between his massive digits. It takes a moment for you to understand, what with the plant being nigh invisible in his servo. Finally, you swallow thickly and stand on your tippy toes (on the couch no less) to reach his intake. The kiss is the longest he’s ever experienced up until now, and while he has the kissing abilities of a dying fish, he melts into it while you forget how to breathe.

Bulkhead is clearly enjoying himself, watching bad Christmas dramas with the kids, trying to figure out how to remix old carols with Miko adding a rock (and occasionally death metal) twist. It’s simultaneously the funniest and most mind-boggling Holiday celebration anyone has ever experienced, add Wheeljack into the mix and now Ratchet is watching these two like a hawk in case they roughhouse too much and crush the Christmas tree. Miko would actually love to see that, and you and Bulkhead both have to be the responsible adults of the situation and try to keep the damage at a minimum while Wheeljack acts like the world’s worst influence on a teenager. By Primus, Bulkhead is actually tempted to join it, and now you have to reel in two grown adult mechs eons your senior and one 15 year old girl. Primus save you. And yet, beyond all expectations, said 15 year old girl is your wingwoman for the evening, which is simultaneously humiliating and a godsend. When she pulls out the plastic mistletoe from her pocket and holds it over you and Bulkhead’s heads from her vantage point on his neck, a move she’s been planning months in advance, your soul exits your body. The staring contest between you and her robot dad breaks only when Miko urges you to do something at least. The kiss is short and sweet, Bulkhead is screaming inside during the whole ordeal no matter how brief, hoping to Primus he didn’t somehow kiss you so badly during a five second interval you’re willing to break up with him. Nah, you’re blushing so intensely June thinks you’re about to have an aneurysm.

Wheeljack is a menace, and it’s entirely your fault. Mentioning the tradition wasn’t supposed to end up like this, but alas, horny dumbassery always leads to worst case scenarios. Bulkhead told you to go for it, meaning well with his encouragement but sealing your fate for the next 24 hours. Ratchet asked you if you were out of your mind, the voice of reason and simultaneously the bitchiest best friend you could ask for, telling you loud and clear if anything happened it would be on your conscience alone. June put a hand on your shoulder and (half) jokingly said she would ask to be assigned to your hospital room. Truly, you have the will to live of a hamster doing its hardest to die a horribly gruesome death and reach hamsterhallah. What a genius you are. Wheeljack wasted no time getting you under the mistletoe Bulkhead helped string up, and maybe you envisioned it differently when he narrowly bruised your lips going in for the kiss. You tried to keep the sloppy makeout session brief, but from the way Bulkhead was shielding the kids behind not one but two giant servos, you might have overdone it. What you especially did not expect, however, was waking up in the Jackhammer’s passenger seat with the worst migraine of your life and dry transfluid slathered all over your crotch. Now, trying to recall the events of last night with the worst eggnog hangover you’ve ever experienced, you can only wait for Wheeljack to awaken from recharge in the pilot’s seat. You note the traces of transfluid on his lips, and your eyes trail down to your suspiciously bluish hand. Did you fist Wheeljack on Christmas Eve?

Bumblebee is having the time of his life. You got Raf (and his Autobot guardian) some discount Christmas-themed games from the only offbrand Gamestop in all of Jasper as an early present. You watch with rapt amusement as they laugh at the frankly abysmal coding and game design, enjoying themselves to the fullest despite the sub-optimal gameplay, but you almost choke on your spit when Raf actually starts analyzing the code for the game and applying level-breaking cheats in a matter of minutes. Cheesus Christ, that kid can hack into the Pentagon at this point. You move in front of Agent Fowler’s line of sight to stop him from seeing just what kind of threat to national security Raf can become. As the day nearly comes to an end and you’re half sure Jack is scrutinizing Ratchet who’s flirting with his mom who’s tucking her hair behind her ear in the single mom sign for “I will fuck this alien robot”; you beckon Bumblebee closer and hold out the mistletoe over your head and his uh… forehead. You kiss him slowly, holding onto the railing as he leans his face into your lips, beeping happily. Little do you know, Miko saw it and now she’s going to hold out a mistletoe over your heads for the next 5 hours until your mouth grows numb from kissing him. He looks so damn happy whenever he notices the mistletoe, you can’t say no to him, not when Dadimus Prime is watching from the other corner of the room.

Arcee is ahead of schedule. She knows what you’re going to do, and she’s already planning to one up you. Yes, she’s been especially busy giving the kids a lift to put up the final ornaments on the tree in spite of her initial protests, but now you’re fiddling with your fingers stealing occasional glances like you’re desperately hyping yourself up for what’s to come. You have no idea what you’re doing to her looking so shy and cute. She could just eat you up. You’re unsure when you go up to her, Christmas fun fact on your lips and sweating bullets just thinking about what you’re going to do - and your jaw drops down to the Earth’s core when she gingerly holds a strand of mistletoe over your heads. She wishes she could capture your expression and lock it inside her spark. When you kiss, it’s deep and longing, filled with a need to give yourself up completely in spite of being so finite next to her. And she welcomes it, all of it, taking your eagerness and savoring every minute with you. When you pull away heaving for breath, your hair’s a mess and you’re redder than Cliffjumper’s plating. Your eyes twinkle when you look at her, equal parts love and desperation to surrender yourself to her with all the trust in the world. She will protect you until the day she offlines.

#transformers x reader #transformers x human #transformers prime #tfp optimus #tfp arcee #tfp ratchet #tfp bulkhead #tfp wheeljack #tfp bumblebee #tfp optimus x reader #tfp arcee x reader #tfp ratchet x reader #tfp bulkhead x reader #tfp bumblebee x reader #tfp wheeljack x reader

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fanficsbysteve · 2 days ago

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Authors Note: So I was scrolling the Tumblrs a few days ago when @lazyturtlehottub put an idea out there that stuck with me a bit so I did my best to get something out there into the world. Hopefully its good. Let me know what you think.

Rating: G?

Word Count: 3033

***

Buck sat in his seat at the LA Lakers game that Tommy had given him tickets to. Tommy had ended things a week before the tickets were for so naturally Buck was at the game alone. He had planned to go with Tommy, so he had someone who actually understood basketball with him. He had requested the day off work so he could go and Bobby had given it to him. Unfortunately nobody else could get the day off so Buck sat in his seat, an empty seat right next to him.

Out of depression, and he had run out of flour to bake something to distract him, Buck had made a sign that sat folded nicely on the seat next to him. If any kind of camera came on him, he was going to be petty and reveal the sign. And he had every right to be petty after what happened. It was so out of the blue. So Buck sat in his seat and just waited. He barely watched the game cause he didn’t have any interest in Basketball. He had never told Tommy this during their 6 months together. Why would he? He had literally tried desperately to get into this pick-up game that Eddie, Tommy, Chim, and a few others played so that he could get close to Tommy. Sure he hadn’t gone again since that one time. He had gotten Tommy’s attention. Plus I think after maiming Eddie, nobody expected him to go again. So he never had to explain how he really didn’t like Basketball.

The game slowly went along. One team having the ball, then the other one did, then they threw it in a hoop, rinse, repeat. Buck honestly never understood why anyone would actually care about this sport. It was so boring. Give him a hockey game. Now that was something to watch. Particularly when the gloves came off.

Slowly the game kept going and Buck was worried that he wouldn’t get a chance at the pettiness he had planned for the game. Then the break in the middle of the game came. Sighing, Buck was bored and was pretty sure that nothing was going to happen when something called a Kiss Cam came up on the video screen in the middle. It started panning around to all the various seats, stopping on what would appear to be couples and they would kiss or make ‘no’ motions if they weren’t together. Then it happened. The camera came and stopped on Buck and the person sitting next to him. The person looked at Buck and started making the No motions.

Buck took this opportunity, like the petty individual he was turning into, and pulled out his homemade sign. It was on bright yellow paper with black letters. The sign read, “My Boyfriend broke up with me a week before this game so now I’m here alone, and I don’t really like Basketball that much.”

A chorus of Boo’s started to ring out around the Arena. Not sure if it was because of the sign or because of him, but Buck didn’t care. He got his pettiness out. Folding up the sign he sat back down.

Then it started. His phone started to buzz but he was going to ignore it. He was at a basketball game and even if he wasn’t having fun or enjoying it, he wasn’t going to be one of those people who spend the whole thing on their phone. The buzzing would not stop. This was going to get annoying. The game hadn’t started back up again so Buck excused himself past the people sitting between himself and the aisle out. He better get this phone stuff dealt with. Might as well just go home if he wasn’t enjoying himself.

He got into the lobby area and pulled his phone out. He was getting bombarded with text messages from Eddie, Hen, Chim, Maddie, basically everyone at the Firehouse. Apparently they had been watching the game during their off time and it just to happens that nothing was going on when he was on camera. So everyone saw it. There were also messages and calls from Tommy but Buck was ignoring those right now. He couldn’t be bothered to message him before so he was going to make him wait.

He started with the Maddie messages. She was his sister after all.

MH: What did you just do? On National Television?

EB: I don’t know what you mean. I just held up a sign.

MH: You just threw Tommy to the wolves.

EB: Nobody who watches this will know who is being talked about. And anyone who does will not care enough to know.

MH: Don’t count on it. You weren’t super secretive about your relationship so lots of people know.

EB: Well we will just have to wait and see won’t we.

Closing down the text thread with Maddie, he went to Eddie, the next most important person in his life right now. It would have been Tommy but that ship sailed a week ago.

ED: That was brave.

BB: I was out of flour. And I was hurting so I decided to channel it.

ED: I wouldn’t want to be Tommy right now.

BB: Why not?”

Eddie sent over a screenshot of what looked like X or another social media site. Buck wasn’t super big on them. It showed a trending tag #LonelyLakersLad and #LakersBFBreakup and several other variants. Some of them had a lot of traction.

ED: You are going viral.

BB: Nobody who knows me would do anything like that.

ED: So you are telling me that you are 100% certain that you never hurt anyone the way you were hurt.

BB: I’ve broken up with everyone amicably as far as I am aware.

ED: And you’ve never kept in touch to see how they are feeling after things?

Buck stopped to think for a second. As far as he was aware he was fine with all his ex-girlfriends. They weren’t in touch anymore, friendship falling off the wayside, but honestly why would they do anything?

ED: Just saying. You might want to contact the recipient of your pettiness. He has been blowing up our phones here.

Buck sighed. Closed the Eddie chat and opened the one labeled Thomas. He hadn’t wanted to keep it the same as it was before the breakup. It hurt too much.

There it was, a lengthy string of texts from Tommy. Words weren’t the greatest thing you could convey emotion through. It was always up to the person reading to get the emotion you were putting into it and more times than not, it was always conveyed wrong.

TK: What the hell was that?

TK: I told you to take Eddie with you to that.

TK: And what do you mean you don’t even like Basketball? You literally forced your way into a game with me and Eddie and Chim.

TK: I know I hurt you. But that was next level pettiness.

TK: We need to talk.

TK: Please answer your phone.

TK: I’ve tried calling you a dozen times. Please just answer.

Buck knew that Tommy had called at least that many times during while he was just messaging his family and friends.

TK: I’m not mad. I swear it. I just want to talk. With words from my mouth instead of my fingers. That way its not misinterpreted.

TK: Please just answer and let me talk to you. Then I won’t bother you ever again.

Buck tapped the name Thomas, pulling up his contact details, and tapped the Call button. At least he could get this over with quickly. Maybe Trader Joes was still open so he could get more baking supplies on his way.

The phone didn’t even get to finish a single ring before Tommy answered, “Evan!”

“You said you wanted to talk Thomas,” Buck replied. He couldn’t stop the smile that came over his face when he heard Tommy call him Evan though. He also knew that Tommy was wincing on the other end at the Thomas.

“What was that all about? I was watching the game at home and I remember saying you could take Eddie and why were you there alone? And what was that sign for?” Tommy rambled. Buck just let him ramble a bunch. A thousand more questions came out of his mouth through the phone.

“If you would let me get a word in I can easily explain everything,” Buck interrupted. Tommy stopped talking for the time being so Buck took that as his time to get his side of things out, “You had just broken my heart. I was feeling petty because I had nothing else to distract me from calling or messaging you. I had spent too many days crying over you so I went to the next extreme. It was probably a little overboard but I was feeling my emotions and channeling them into something different. I didn’t want to turn back into the Buck that slept around to deal with his hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” Tommy said, “God this isn’t great on the phone.”

“Well you were the one who wanted me to call you,” Buck replied, “I was perfectly happy just texting.”

“Were you though?” Tommy’s voice was getting a little catty at this point, “I don’t think perfectly happy people do the stunt you just pulled.”

“Well I WAS perfectly happy,” Buck was just as catty in return, “Until you ended things out of the blue, no real reason except some bullshit about not being your last.”

Buck could feel the guilt through the phone at this point, “Meet me at Fleur Café. That’s close to the arena. We clearly have to talk in person.”

“Fine by me,” Buck replied. His heart started to flutter a bit cause he did want to see Tommy again, “I know you don’t live near here so I’ll get you a coffee for when you arrive.”

“I’ll be there in about 45 minutes,” Tommy replied, his voice was shaking a bit, “depending on traffic.”

Buck let Tommy end the call and then he quickly pulled up the map on his phone to get there.

***

Buck had gotten to the café after 10 minutes of walking so he waited outside for about 20 minutes. He was mildly curious about the X trend that was happening so he downloaded the X app and signed into the account he made about a decade earlier. “@ranchmanbuck” was the username he had created. He was living in Montana at the time and working on a ranch. It didn’t last long. He also only had maybe 3 posts on his account.

It took him a bit to get signed in but eventually he did and #LonelyLakersLad was still trending. Even the official account of the LA Lakers had posted about it. Seems that everyone online was either trying to find out who he was, telling him that they would date him, telling him that it will get better in the end. There was a few that were insane and threatening harm on the person who hurt him. Seeing threats of death towards Tommy by people who didn’t know him was disturbing so Buck closed that app and swore to never open it again. People online were insane.

Stepping into the café, Buck was greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods. He had grown to love the smell of baked goods since Tommy broke things off with him. It was soothing and calming. He smelled lemon loaf, and cinnamon rolls, and some savoury cheese buns. He just breathed in and then head to the counter to order, “Good evening,” Buck was always courteous to the staff anywhere, “Can I get two coffees, one black, and one two cream, one sweetener,” He looked at the baked goods. He had so much at home but he wanted something sweet right now, “And two pieces of that lemon loaf, and a cinnamon roll.”

Buck paid for his purchases and went to a table near the window to wait. He started to slowly pick apart the lemon loaf he had gotten for himself and slowly ate it, sipping on his coffee at the same time. After about 10 minutes of waiting, Tommy walked into the coffee shop. He looked around and spotted Buck. He quickly came over and sat down, “Hey,” He said.

“I got you a coffee,” Buck pushed the coffee his way, “And some lemon loaf.”

“Thanks,” Tommy took the coffee and took a sip, “You finally figured out how I like my coffee.”

“We were together for 6 months Tommy,” Buck replied, “If I didn’t at least learn your coffee order then I would have been the worst boyfriend ever.”

“OK so we need to talk,” Tommy replied, “But first I just want to let you know how sorry I am for how things went down.”

“Why did you not come back after?” Buck asked, “You just left me there. I figured maybe it was a fight that we could work through but you didn’t come back.”

“I was scared,” Tommy had his head down, “You idealized me. You didn’t see me or the things that were wrong with me. Just the good. You don’t know how it was growing up and just being abandoned by the one person who loved me, leaving me with my father. Or the first man I ever fell in love with leaving me because he decided someone else was better than me.”

“You never told me any of this,” Buck replied, “You kept your walls up and never fully let me in. I only know what you showed me. And,” Buck trailed off. Well he had him in front of him so it was now or never, “And what you showed me made me fall in love with you.”

Buck watched as Tommy’s face snapped up at those words. Buck had been meaning to say those words to him for awhile now. Since the day at the cemetery at least when him and Tommy had a funeral so that Billy Boils would lift the curse. And he did. But just having Tommy there with him made him realize that Tommy was all he needed in life from now on, “You never said that,” Tommy said.

“I mean it though,” Buck replied, “I might be brand new to this whole loving men thing. But I know what love feels like and I know what I feel for you. I realize that I may have jumped ahead a couple steps. Eddie tells me I’m an idiot all the time. And maybe I am. But I’m an idiot that loves you, Tommy.”

Tommy fiddled with his cup, “I’m just scared that you will get bored of me and leave me like everyone else.”

Buck reached across and grabbed Tommy’s hand, “I need you to learn to trust me. I won’t leave you. You are everything I’ve felt I was missing in my life. From the very first mouth static, something about you made me feel complete. And this past week has made me feel worse, like a part of me was missing. And I don’t like how that feels and I don’t want to feel it anymore.”

Tommy looked ashamed, “I love you as well. And there has been an Evan sized hole in my life that I cannot manage to fill,” Buck watched as Tommy looked up, his face setting, “Fuck it. If my heart gets broken, it gets broken,” He whispered to himself, “Evan Buckley, I know I don’t deserve it after what I did to you, but would you be willing to give me a second chance? I’m also an idiot who is in love with you and I might not deserve it but please?” Tommy’s eyes bore into Buck with intensity. This man meant every word of it.

Buck stood up, grabbed Tommy’s face and brought him into a kiss. The kiss lasted longer than either had planned but Buck was not letting go. He wasn’t certain of it but he thought he may have heard the shutter of a camera on someone’s phone. Maybe someone taking some pictures of their food. They did that a lot. As the kiss came to an end, a single thread of saliva between them, Buck sat down again, “We need to communicate better,” Buck said, “Since we want to try again, I ask that if you have problems, or if I’m jumping ahead or saying something idiotic, that you please just talk to me. We can work through these problems.”

“I can’t promise I won’t get scared again,” Tommy said, “I’ve got more trauma than you can possibly imagine. I’m not the ideal gay that you seem to have thought I am. But I can promise that if things get bad for me, I’ll do everything I can to talk.”

Buck smiled, “That’s all I want. I want to know all of you. Scars and all if you’ll let me,” Buck smiled, “Now help me eat this Cinnamon bun.”

***

6 months later, Buck sat with Tommy at another Lakers game. A repeat of the 6 month anniversary. Tommy had originally wanted to do something that Buck would enjoy, but Buck shut that down, “I enjoy being with you and seeing you happy and if it means going to Basketball games then I want to go. Just means in the winter you’ll have to get better at enjoy the LA Kings games.”

“Deal,” Tommy said. So they were in their seats at the arena. It was halftime as Tommy called it. The camera was panning around the stands looking for couples to make kiss. When it landed on Buck and Tommy. Smiling, Buck pulled Tommy into a kiss, as the kiss broke, he held up another sign just for this occasion, ‘We worked things out, so please don’t make me go viral again. #NotSoLonelyLakersLad’. Buck smiled and kept staring at Tommy. The crowd was cheering in the arena for them. Just staring into the eyes of the man he loved.

***

Authors Note: Well that's it. I hope anyone who reads this likes it. Feel free to suggest any titles as I have no idea what to call this. If you have any notes for how I could improve, please be kind about it.

#bucktommy #evan buckley #tevan #buck x tommy #tommy kinard #fix it fic

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temporalbystander · 2 days ago

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Was gonna leave this alone, partway through reading this my insecure overly anxious brain was going "oh god this is me, Frosted hates me I should just delete my blog." And... Well you get the idea. I'm sick and I just woke from a nap, I'm not in the best headspace.

But I'm still going to tackle this. I'm still going to fight this. Because for the love of all things good it's not just ML now. Literally every fandom I've been a part of at some point has had these.... Organisms, that feel like they can't let someone enjoy something. That they need to remind you that you're a terrible person because you like a terrible show. And god forbid if you have shown interest in adult content of that show, because then you get called names 8 ways to Sunday all implying the world would be better off with you dead or in jail.

I don't know what it is, I don't know why they do it, and I don't know why ML has picked up so much more of it recently. But the rest of us have had more than enough and, quite frankly, should all be super vehement about the block button. Maybe even a name and shame if they get too out of hand.

I was gonna say more on the show, about my own opinions and what not, but no. I've made my stance clear enough. I've said time and again that I'm done. With the show, with writing, and yet I can't stop thinking about it. About giving it another chance, about catching up or watching the shows from the viewpoint of a normal fan and not a crazy person who got too involved with the OC reactions. And I'm still writing, still contemplating ideas that may never see the light of day but are still there.

Miraculous Ladybug is an amazing show and anyone who feels otherwise has no business saying so on my blog. It's quite obvious what you're getting into here.

you can't make a single fucking post about miraculous ladybug on this site without someone thinking their opinions about how ML Is A Bad Show are wanted or appropriate

#ooc #mun talks #outsideofcausality #miraculous ladybug #mun ramblings #tired mun #mlb fanfic #faybon tules #leave us alone #leave the show alone #youre not welcome here

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sometimesthingsgowrongokayy · 1 day ago

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That’s the last straw

lee!daisuke - ler!anya

some swearing, and also i have literally no idea how boardgames work, but dw about that its fiiine

this is a tickle fic, don’t like don’t read. also please dont harass me for mouthwashposting

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That’s it. That’s the last fucking straw.

Anya is seething in her chair as she watches Daisuke roll a 6 and clear right through her, picking up his piece and smiling smugly as he glides it along the board, landing right on a skip-ahead space and jumping about twenty spaces forward.

He gives a little giggle. “Sooo, Anya, what’s your move?” He says, smugly as he leans against the back of the couch.

She’s never going to look at Candy Kingdom the same again. Her eye gives a twitch as she prays to everything she’s ever believed in- please, a six, please. Please. Please.

She rolls a three and lands on a penalty square.

Daisuke, sitting across from her, gives a tiny muffled snort. Her rage is amplified tenfold, glaring up at him with the might of a thousand suns. Oh, the things she’s going to do to this man.

Curly clears his throat, placing a gentle hand on Anya’s shoulder- she flinches at the contact, eyes snapping to him and forgetting to drop the glare. Now he’s the one to flinch, eyes flickering away as he pulls his hand back.

“Ahm.. Anya, do you- think we should take a break..? You seem to be getting a little.. Frustrated.” He says, smiling sheepishly as his eyes drift around the table. Her cards are much more scattered than his or even Daisuke’s, her usual clean organization thrown to the bin and replaced by her newfound mania.

Anya flashes a smile, cracking her fingers before responding. “Oh, no. Don’t mind me at all. This is fun! Crew bonding is always great for morale.”

Her tone isn’t quite as soft as it usually is, a hint of boiling rage laced into the undertones. She sits as polite as ever, eyes trained on Curly. He gives a gulp, but nods, playing along for the sake of his life. He’s anxious as his turn follows, and he rolls a meager four. Good. This is good.

Anya’s eyes fall on Daisuke, hands politely laid in her lap as her eyes bare into his very soul. He’s looking a little more anxious now, spinning the rings on his fingers as he realizes its his turn and hastily throws the dice. Another six.

Silence falls over the table as Anya takes a long breath, cutting through the air. She twitches again as Daisuke lets out another muffled snicker. He’s practically having to hold a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

Her brow quirks up in a challenge, watching as the boy’s mouth wobbles and wavers into a smile, the chilling silence starting to weigh on him. It’s too funny. Plus the glare he’s getting from Anya- so rare, for her- isn’t exactly helping.

He can’t help himself, letting out a high-pitched giggle before clamping his mouth shut, just staring at Anya, eyes wide with curiosity and a bit of terror. Curly’s gaze flashes between the two, giving a gulp, and that’s what breaks the dam.

Daisuke falls into cackles, keeling forwards as he laughs, shoulders bouncing along. Curly has to suppress his own snicker- Daisuke’s laugh is rather contagious.

Anya takes a harsh breath, eye twitching once more as she watches Daisuke curled up in his own mirth. This little shit. She slowly stands up, glaring as she towers over the scene, and Daisuke’s laughter stops in its tracks as he realizes his impending doom.

Anya’s eyes fix right on the boy, and he gives a gulp as she just stares for what feels like an eternity.

“Y’know, Daisuke..” Her words cut through the air like a knife as she sits down next to him, with the danger of a mother quietly sitting down next to a troublemaking child.

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but it’s very impolite to laugh at someone when they’re struggling with something.” She says, and within a blink, Daisuke screeches out as Anya’s long nails suddenly latch to his sides and squeeze.

“Anya- anyaanyaanya- please, we cahan- we can talk about this!” Daisuke pleads, as Anya looms over him, hands poised against his sides. She gives a soft snicker in response, and without warning, drills into the boy’s sides- her nails digging into the soft meat and vibrating, pulling a loud guffaw from Daisuke before he falls into desperate, pitchy laughter.

“ANYA- nonOnah- NOHO- pleaseplease ihidiDN’t meanit i didn’tmeanit-“ He begs, words breaking and cracking between squeals and snorts, thrashing up against her hands which have now found his hips and are squeezing mercilessly.

“Curly, it’s your turn. Oh, and- move Daisuke’s piece for him, would you?” Anya says, completely ignoring Daisuke’s pleas. She throws a polite smile to Curly, even as her hands skitter up to Daisuke’s ribs. He gives a squeal in response, kicking out from under her and bucking desperately.

Curly blinks, a bit dumbfounded, before clearing his throat and doing as commanded. He quickly moves Daisuke’s piece six spots forwards before rolling the dice and landing a nice passive three. He gulps as he moves his piece.

“ANyahAHAH- ple- pleHEASE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASPLESPLSPL- PLEHEAASE- letmegoletmEGOpLEASEIT’sSOBAD-“ Daisuke spews, words jumbling together as he laughs. Anya snickers before drilling her hands into his hips once more, wrenching a high-pitched squeal from the boy. She speaks up once more.

“Oh, dear. Guess it’s my turn- Curly, be a dear and roll for me?” She says, nimble fingers not once stopping her quest in ripping Daisuke apart.

Curly silently complies in horror as he watches the scene, mindlessly moving Anya’s piece forwards and flinching as Daisuke gives another scream.

His mouth hangs open in a cackling grin, tears of mirth stinging his eyes as he bucks and squirms and turns this way and that, to no avail. Anya is shockingly strong, staying atop the poor boy as he thrashes and tries to desperately pry her off of himself.

He eventually gives up on trying to free himself, fist slamming against the couch cushions as Anya’s fingers slip into the spaces between his ribs, wiggling around and squeezing and doing other torturous things that really shouldn’t tickle as much as they do.

“AnnyaaAAHAHAH- PLEASE- pleheHEASEplease-“ He yelps, slowly losing energy as she just Does Not Let Up, giving a giggly whimper as her hands poke at his sides again.

“..Anya, um- I think he needs a break..” Curly speaks up through the cackles and squeaks, concerned as he can hear Daisuke’s breath beginning to shallow. Anya gives a dramatic sigh and removes her hands, met by a large gasp from Daisuke as he flops limply against the couch, eyes glossed over as he twitches- still vaguely processing All That.

“I suppose you’re right. I’ll let this be a lesson- I always win at boardgames. Now, Daisuke, it’s your turn-“ Her tone gains a malicious lilt with her next words, “-Why don’t you roll?”

Daisuke gives a weak whimper, still unable to curl up fully as Anya sits on his legs. He hugs his midsection and gives a small huffy giggle, mouth still pulled up at the corners. “Nnoohohooo..” He whines, hiccuping as he lays. He knows what his fate will be if he rolls good, and with his luck tonight? He’s absolutely terrified.

“Go on. Roll.” Anya says, softly for once, as she gives an encouraging poke to the boy’s side. He gives a squeaky giggle, whining as he reaches out for the dice and lets it tumble out of his hand, landing on the table and landing him a death sentence. He had rolled his third six in a row.

He gives a fearful whimper, eyes drifting up to Anya. The glare he met was one of nightmares, and he quickly reaches out to nudge the die- landing on a four, instead. He anxiously looks back up to Anya, sighing as he sees her nod. “Good choice. Anyways, Curly?” She says, finally getting up off Daisuke and walking back to her seat.

Daisuke immediately curls into a ball, huffing as he turns away from the table and buries his face in the cushions of the couch, twitching and hiccuping as he hugs his midriff. His body has a soft shake to it, weakened by the Attack.

“Oh, um- right, yes.” Curly stammers out, picking up the dice and rolling a five, cursing himself as he lands on a penalty square. Anya smiles and plucks the dice from the board, rolling and grinning as she lands the six that carries her onto the finishing square.

“Well then! Looks like I win.” She says, sighing and smiling triumphantly at the scene infront of her.

Daisuke, curled up on the couch and dead to the world. Curly, still glancing between the two with fear in his eyes. And the board, with Anya’s piece in the winning spot and the other two falling behind via sabotage.

Anya never loses a game of Candy Kingdom again.

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BONUS SCENE THAT I CUT FROM THE MAIN FIC BUT I STILL THINK YALL SHOULD BE ABLE TO ENJOY:

Anya’s hands still don’t stop their ruthless quest, latching onto his upper thighs and mercilessly squeezing. Daisuke practically screams, legs thrashing as he again attempts to thrash out of her grip, twisting this way and that to no avail.

His words are lost to laughter as she continues, silently and deadly plucking him apart. It’s when she reaches his knees he gets desperate. One squeeze and he convulses, legs snapping upward in a ear-piercing squeal and a guffaw. She blinks, hands still poised above his knees.

“A-Anya, ahanya please, pleasedon’tdothis, I’ll do anything- plehease-“ The begs sputter past Daisuke’s lips with an accompaniment of giggles, hands tugging at his own hair as they had found their place there a few moments ago. He gives another high giggle as he fidgets, legs shaking and twitching as he squirms, eyes locked with Anya’s, already knowing his fate.

Then she grins, eyes narrowing devilishly, and Daisuke passes away on the spot. She gives a ruthless sequence of squeezes to that little spot right above his knees, latched on and not letting go even as he kicks and thrashes and screams. He howls, back arching from the couch and slamming back down as his fist desperately pounds against the cushions.

This continues, evilly, for about five more torturous seconds before Curly speaks up, torn out of his shocked daze at the snort that rips through the air. “Anya- Anya, I think he’s had enough.” He coughs, guiding her off of the poor boy and back to her chair.

She growls, still seething as she watches Daisuke immediately curl up on himself, letting out a pathetic whimper as he hugs his midsection. He’s still giggling weakly, face buried in his knees as he lays horizontal on the couch, rasping for air after the attack.

Okay, she feels a little better now that he’s been thoroughly wrecked. The table falls into another long silence, only interrupted by Daisuke’s weak panting and soft, quiet giggles. Anya smiles, satisfied, as Curly looks at her with a mildly horrified expression.

“Okay, I think that’s enough Candy Kingdom for one day.. D-Daisuke, why don’t you, uh- head to your quarters and.. Clean up a bit? I’ll take care of the- game.” Curly says even as he knows Daisuke probably won’t be able to move for another fifteen minutes, clearing his throat sheepishly. He starts gathering pieces into the game box. His eyes fall on Daisuke once more before they flicker to Anya, giving a gulp at the way she’s absolutely drinking up the image of Daisuke crumpled up on the couch with blush up to his ears.

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OKAY I HOPE YALL ENJOYED THAT i rewrote this like fifteen times before i finally decided i’d just post it as-is. the bonus scene was one that was in the original version but i felt like it was too short and didnt know where to fit it in and askdhehdhdhJsh. i couldn’t deprive yall of it though, lower body ticklish daisuke is literally my lifeblood.

anywayyssssss hope yall have a good dayy <3 idk how to end these <3

#wrongposting #lee!daisuke #ticklish!daisuke #ler!anya #mouthwashing tickles #mouthwashing tickle #mouthwashing tickling #bonus scene included #first tickle fic im actually posting #tickle fic #daisuke gets wrecked- we love to see it #might make a more fluffy sequel where he’s enduring less torture and more soft stuff #or just a mini-sequel where our poor boy actually gets some aftercare and isnt left for dead #sfw tickle fic

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