#Stop clogging Black girl's tags

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

ATTENTION: PJO Fandom

I realize that many of you are, in fact, kids and some of you have not shared much space with Black fans in your fandom, so I will try to make this short and sweet.

See this girl? This is Leah Sava Jeffries, the actress who plays Annabeth Chase in the PJO TV Show.

Now, the way that Tumblr is set up, if you tag somebody, when others check that tag to find images and information on them, they see every post in which you have tagged the someone. That being said.

If you are making a post, and this girl is not in the post, please don't tag this girl. Her name is Leah Sava Jeffries, and if someone is going to that tag, it is specifically so we can find Leah Sava Jeffries content.

If I wanna find your drawing of Percy, I will check his tag. If we are looking for commentary about Poseidon & Sally, we can check their tags. But where I shouldn't have to see posts that are not about Leah Jeffries or posts that do not have Leah Jeffries images or information is the Leah Jeffries tag.

So. What I am saying is if you are someone who tags things automatically and places tags on content that are not the content of that tag, you are crowding this girl's tags, I'ma report your post as spam, maybe even block you. But in the meantime, you'll be clogging this girl's tags for people who are coming into her tag specifically to see posts for her. And you don't need to do that. Whatever it is that your post is, the fans who are looking for that will find it in that tag.

Don't tag non-Leah things with Leah's name. Don't tag non-Annabeth things with Annabeth's name. Don't clog up Black performers and Black characters tags with things that are not them.

Yes, this is my personal peeve, but it also is simply a rude thing to do, especially in situations where Black girl characters are already hard to find and enjoy. Give her the space that belongs to her and give her fans that space to find and enjoy her. Thank you.

[realcube]

WRATH & LUST . t.kei / y.tadashi

synopsis ✧ you hate tsukishima kei. you do everything in your power to make his life miserable but nothing works. now you have no choice but to fuck his best friend

cws/tags ✧ college au , enemies to enemies who screw, cursing, slut-shaming (both ways)

parts ✧ i. ii. iii. iv.

your friends call it 'inexplicable hatred', 'misdirected anger' and 'envy' but they couldn't be more wrong.

your feelings towards tsukishima kei were completely rational in your mind. he carried himself as though he was better than everyone and treated those around him like filth, yet he's still tolerated and his shitty attitude is even deemed charming by some self-loathing girls at your college.

it irritates you to no end how he behaves. too cocksure and too sassy; no dignified man should never act in such a manner, you believe. you could go on about other reasons you dislike him — his style atrocities and his punchable face, to name a couple — but you shan't.

you intended on going about your life, simply hating him from afar as you didn't see the need to stir up petty drama. but he made it impossible for you to do so.

one day he was sat behind you in a maths lecture. the seats are tiered so he is slightly higher up than you are. while making notes, his pen slips out of his hand and tumbles forward, landing somewhere under your desk.

you do the polite thing by making an attempt to search for it, but it is dark under the table you can't seem to find it.

a couple moments pass, and he remarks lowly, "are you just going to stare it?"

white hot rage courses through you at his comment. what ever happened to 'please'? to 'would you mind'? you were about to do him a favour by fetching his pencil and he still has the audacity to be snarky.

fuck that, he can pick up his own damn pen. you leave it alone and try to focus on the lecture.

you make it through the whole thing without him bothering you again, probably using a spare or borrowed pen. once the class has been dismissed, you gather your things and wait for the people in your row to start filtering out so you can leave, that is when you feel a gentle tap on the shoulder.

you turn around and lock eyes with a tan, freckled boy with mousy brown hair, he wears an awkward smile and point to your desk, "excuse me, my friend dropped his pencil and i think it landed under your desk. could you get it, please?"

his voice is meek and demeanour similar to that of a shy puppy, which is why it almost pained you to scoff at him and say, "tell your friend to stop being such a cunt, then maybe."

you rush out of the door, keen to get as far away from those two boys as you can. yet as you leave you hear the blonde's voice mutter in your wake, "what a moron."

after marinating on the situation during the retelling to your friend group, and a group vote, you came to the conclusion that perhaps your response to yamaguchi — you learned his name from one your friends — might have been a bit severe. but in your defence, you were peeved by the comment tsukishima had made prior.

it's as though manners and etiquette are totally lost on him.

ೃ⁀➷

two weeks passed since your last little altercation with tsukishima, and you were proud to say you haven't been involved in any conflict with him since then. mostly making snide remarks in passing or exchanging dirty looks in the hall.

however, that all changed when your professor was late to one of your classes. they expressed in the past that they prefer students to wait outside the lecture theatre when they aren't present, so naturally this caused many people to be clogging the hallways.

there was a long queue of people waiting to enter, you stood far away from the door, while tsukishima and yamaguchi happened to be standing opposite. you couldn't help but notice the outfit tsukishima had on: skinny light brown trousers with a black belt, and a pressed short-sleeve white shirt, that was a bit see-through.

you didn't know much about this guy but from his slightly toned figure, which was made apparent by his choice in clothes, you could tell he does some sort of sport. probably basketball, considering how tall he is, but maybe golf. he acts like a golf player.

lost in thought for too long, your finally yanked out of your own internal monologue by a familiar voice snapping, "what are you staring at?"

you blink, and before you even have time to process what he just accused you of, you blurt out, "has anyone told you that you're dressed like a slut today?"

yamaguchi must slap a hand over his mouth to suppress his burgeoning laughter. tsukishima's eyes narrow at his friend's offensive display, before they snap back to you and he argues, "really? me? i'm dressed appropriately. take a look at what you're wearing."

he motions to your outfit: jorts and a tank top. maybe not the most stylish choice but definitely not as whorish as his attire. "it might be more revealing but still not as slutty as you."

he rolls his eyes like what you said was contradictory, wearing smug smile. he wants you to believe what you said is nonsensical and 'proved his point' but all it does it anger you to no end.

not fond of his facial expressions, you retort, "don't pull stupid faces and play dumb. you're already dumb enough as is, so it isn't a very becoming look on you."

with furrowed brows, he opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, "and i can see your chest through your shirt. no one wants to see that!"

"you say that while your tits are out, have some self-respect."

"at least i have tits. you're wearing a short sleeve to show off the muscles you don't even have!"

yamaguchi is thoroughly entertained by this squabble, which is why it pains him to chime in, "uh, tsukki. the lecturer is here, let's go."

as much as he wanted to get the last word in, tsukishima glances between tadashi and the empty halls before he decides his education is actually kinda important and begins to make his way inside the theatre. it was good timing because he didn't have a witty response anyway.

your heart is beating rapidly, though you're unsure why. you gaze at the empty walls for a minute to collect yourself before heading into class as well. you totally won that fight, is what you tell yourself.

ೃ⁀➷

ever since the disagreement you had with tsukishima in hallways of the maths building, what was once comments and glares has escalated to threats and insults being made boldly in each other's face.

despite the fact you ate him up the first time, you've been on a losing streak since then. you feel as though nothing you say gets under his skin anymore.

you've tried belittling his face, his smarts, his personality, his mother but nothing seems to work. you even tried to ridicule his glasses but that didn't work either!

"hey, four eyes!"

"hey, five guys."

what the fuck? you weren't sure if that was a dig at your diet, your weight or your quantity of sexual partners but regardless, you could not let that slide.

verbal abuse wasn't working so naturally the next option was physical. you attempted to trip him in the halls but his legs were so long he stepped over you without even noticing. you attempted to pour milk over him but tadashi noticed and pulled him out of the way. you considered pushing his knees while he was standing in front of you but you realised that if he fell backwards his weight would crush you and you'd probably die.

all of that was so elementary and childish though; high school bullying at best. you need college level bullying. you thought about planting weed in his bag and calling the campus police on him but your friends said that was 'too far'. you thought about leaking his nudes but firstly you don't have them and secondly, he's already walking around college half naked anyway so he likely wouldn't be phased by it.

the hard thing about trying to torture a boy like tsukishima is you don't know enough about him to know what will truly drive him insane. you know he cares about his grades but sabotaging his test scores is beyond your means. he doesn't have any dignity so you can't humiliate him. even if you tried, his little gremlin of a best friend would probably catch onto you anyway.

that green haired boy was just as bad as his handler. always gawking at you to make sure you don't try anything; literally glued to tsukishima's ass at all times — it's so gross. and it gave you the most disgustingly perfect idea.

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 3

Hello! Sorry it’s a bit late, I’ve been settling in the cottage I’m in on holiday. I can't wait for to post this part, since it's now finally starting to kick off! For those who have asked to be in the Taglist, just know you're on the guest list for my funeral, cuz you guys are the ones giving me motivation. <3333333

Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls from England ended up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.

Tags: Kíli x oc/reader - Fíli x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company x ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - SUPER slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 1017 (Slightly shorter this time)

Warnings: Blood, Minor Injuries, Kate's having a slight panic attack but doesn't realise it lol

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

PLEASE START FROM THE PROLOGUE IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U

Want some background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 >

PART 1: Chapter 3 -

Error: Friend not found.

Throughout time, it was believed that bridges were gateways to other realms and dimensions, and this is what some people believed supernatural creatures such as ghosts used to cross into the world of the living.

Now would be a good time to be anyone but me.

 Chills swept up my spine and down my limbs as I felt frozen in place at the sight before me. Mind clouded with anxiety and confusion, I racked my brain to see if I could come to even a singular conclusion to why Kay had evaporated into thin air.

Breaking through my fuzzed up thoughts, I went with my first idea. Sprinting to where I had last seen her leaning on the other side of the bridge, I practically threw the top half of my body over the edge.

My wide eyes glared into the depths below, scanning intently for any sign that she had fallen in. A circle of ripples, bubbles, anything! But to my bewilderment, nothing revealed any indication that she had landed in the water. Well, now that I come to think of it, if she had fallen, there would’ve been at least some noise. Whether it was a splash, or her screaming as she fell.

I breathed a small sigh in relief as I semi-ruled out the possibility. But the unease swept back like a wave, as I remembered that I was currently alone, in the middle of the woods, with nothing but a thin waterproof coat to keep me warm.

—————————-

The next couple minutes was spent retracing my steps as I returned to the clearing, the whole time I called Kay’s name, straining my ears through the noise of the birds and trees for any sort of reply.

I eventually returned to the bridge, with the intent of returning to the car park to see if Kay had ended up there, and worst case scenario, report her missing.

I switched on my phone’s torch, in order to navigate my way back in the now dying light, whilst nothing but panic pumped at high speed through my veins, my head still clogged with questions about what happened.

Tears pricked at my eyes at the thought of my missing friend and being alone in the middle of nowhere. Nothing like this should happen unless it was a horror movie! What caused her to disappear? How did she vanish so quickly and quietly? I wiped at my glassy eyes, black mascara now smudged on my hand and probably my face. I pushed on and started my way over the bridge.

It was now dark, with only my phone bearing a sphere of light to illuminate what was in front of me. I lifted my head to look ahead, only to stagger to a stop, shock crashing over me for the second time this evening - only this time it was impossible to try and come up with an explanation.

It seemed to shimmer and glitter in the light of my torch, and all I could do for a moment was peer at it with nothing but bafflement as I tried to wrap my head around what I was witnessing. A shaky breath rattled through my lungs as I shuffled a tantalising foot forwards. Call me dumb, but crossing this bridge was my only way back, and this thing completely blocked the path.

It looked like a wall of some sort – transparent – as I could just make out the other side, but it swirled and morphed between white and grey, as if someone had taken the world’s biggest liquid veil and defied gravity by hanging it up in the middle of nowhere. Scanning it whilst moving my phone about, I theorised that this could most likely be behind Kay’s bizarre disappearance.

I slowly lowered myself to the ground, patting my hand about on the wooden floor for a stick I had spotted earlier whilst keeping a firm eye on the veil. I soon felt the knobbly bark and wrapped my hand around it before gradually straightening back up. I held it up in front of me, as both defence and a prodder and inched it forward with my shaking hand until it was no more than a half inch away.

Gently swaying the thin branch from side to side, I cautiously edged it closer each time, making the crazy decision to see if I could swirl what I guessed was liquid within this mysterious wall. That was, until the stick finally came in contact.

I let out a sharp cry of alarm as the stick was torn out of my hand and with a flash, it was gone. I let out a hiss, grimacing as I felt a harsh burning and opened my hand, only to see gashes where the branch had torn at my skin as the veil sucked it in at the speed of light. Clenching my jaw and taking deep breaths through my nose, I tried to put pressure on the wounds in an attempt to stop the blood that was now oozing out and running down my arm.

But what was most important, is that I now had a clear idea of what happened to Kay.

With newfound determination, I strode up to the veil, eager to find my friend. Coming face to face, it was only when I went to step forward, did I hesitate.

What if something bad happens as soon as I stepped through? I didn’t want both of us to go missing without a trace. What would become of our family, and other friends? I didn’t want to put that type of trauma on them! However, it would be worse if I returned alone, I don’t think Kay’s mum would ever forgive me for losing her daughter.

Coming to a final decision, I faced back towards the wall, trying my best to keep myself from faltering.

“I swear down if I don’t come back from this they better put me on Buzzfeed Unsolved.” I muttered to myself.

Reaching out again with my bleeding hand, I decided there was no turning back now, and with a deep breath, I touched the wall.

With a ferocious jolt, my feet were swept from underneath me, and before I could let out even a scream, I was thrusted forward into darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

< Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 >

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Can't wait to see you on the 7th April for Chapter 4! Also please comment if you want to be added to the Taglist <3

Taglist:

@opheliasdrowningg @mrsdurin @g1gglef1t @qmabailor @jupiterrdarling

(Message me if your tag isn’t working)

[strangertheories]

Lucas is so under appreciated as a character, this fandom simply does not deserve him.

For real! Lucas is incredibly loyal and caring to his friends and is also just incredibly funny. It's so frustrating how criminally little attention he gets (especially beyond shipping). The fact that he gets an entire book detailing his experiences of being one of the only Black people in a small town in the 80s and people are only focusing on one paragraph about Mike Wheeler is so frustrating and pretty telling too to be honest.

I was trying to decide if I should order the book or not but scrolling through the Lucas on the Line tag and even the Lucas tag, it was literally all about Mike. I get you ship him with Will or with Eleven and this is cute fan content or whatever, but don't post about that and completely ignore everything else about the book. Which, may I repeat, is not about Michael Wheeler! Keep that stuff to your own tags please. And yes I'm tagging this with Byler and Mileven, you guys need to stop clogging up the Lucas and Lumax tag with your ships!

Not to mention how willing this fandom is to cheer on horrible white men like Billy, who is incredibly racist too, and Jason. Like they will see Billy violently target someone because of their race or see Jason and his gang hold Lucas at gunpoint or body slam an 11 year old girl and try to justify it or even pretend they did nothing wrong (no Billy did not hate randomly dislike Lucas for no reason, how oblivious are you?). Meanwhile some fans hate Lucas because he liked basketball and didn't want to be bullied (which was very different to the bullying his white friends experienced because it was racially motivated) or because he didn't trust Eleven in S1 which was entirely reasonable of him to not do.

Lucas has been an amazing and loyal friend (not to mention a great boyfriend too) time and time again and has saved their asses since S1, but people will still hate him or not care about him. The way this fandom will do anything to redeem the crustiest white guy ever and then hate on Lucas? Yeah, they don't deserve him. I'm White so someone can let me know if I've overstepped, but it's really frustrating to watch this fandom neglect Lucas over and over again. Thanks for the ask, anon.

[lets-make-ensemble]

ensemble girls resources: a masterlist

always wanted to get into engirls but don't know how? already into engirls but curious as to where to get official art and all that stuff?

well look no further! this masterlist is made for you!✨️ ok i'll stop it with the advertisement talk

❀ index!

translations

cards (framed and frameless), transparents and cgs

official art

ost/songs

—translations

translations are both one of the easiest and most difficult things to find with engirls, this being due to the fact there's not much translated content about it

there's already somewhat of an engirls masterlist regarding translations here !!! i don't have much to add about it,, if you can't find a specific story or something you're interested in using any of those sources, chances are it hasn't been translated yet, please have patience and stay up to date with the engirls eng twt acc to see if a translation is ever uploaded!

—cards (framed and frameless), transparents and cgs

this one kind of depends on what you're looking for

for framed cards, i recommend the ensemble girls wiki, you just gotta go into the gallery of the character you want to see cards of and boom. most cards are there!! another option is the kimisaki database, which i'll explain a bit more about in the next point

for both frameless and transparents i recommend checking the kimisaki database right here, more specifically, in the card series (カードシリーズ) section; while not all cards are there since the database still is a work in progress, it's a good replacement for the old engirls database that was taken down a couple months ago (rip)

another source for transparent versions of cards is @/sevenarchive, if you look in the ensemble girls tag you should find various transparent cards, not all of them sadly, but hey! it's smth, at least

for cgs, there is a decent chunk of engirls cgs in @/engirls-cg's blog, while not all of them are there, it's the only public source i've seen that has engirls cgs

—official art

most official art is found in the official engirls twt (@/ensemble_girls), though you'd have to look for it using keywords and stuff since the acc has A Lot of tweets,, some keywords could be:

2周年, 3周年, 5周年, 7周年; for anniversary arts

(ttm), (mm), (ck), (jk), (ro), (nk); for miscellaneous art the engirls acc has posted

though, @/nomorewhitepeople has uploaded some of engirls' official art under the #upload tag, if you check it you'll find a bit of official art and that stuff, i'm technically also doing the same but at a slower pace since i don't really like clogging up the engirls tag much

as far as i'm aware, there aren't any other sources to obtain official art

—ost/songs

by ost i mostly refer to sound effects and in-game music, that kinda stuff

for some ! story ost and sound effects, they can be found here, you can also find voicelines of some characters related to certain cards and stuff

for the special songs like the theme song, the rock band club song and the memorial song, you can find them on youtube and soundcloud!

soundcloud link for all 3 songs: ☆, the link leads to a playlist for all three songs

youtube links: let's make☆ensemble! (theme song); sacred gods above, droplet of a black moon (rock band club song); the days where you bloomed (memorial song)

the quality isn't the best, but it's the only public source where i've found the songs aside from bilibili and stuff,, also i haven't found the event and enmemo soundtracks in any public platform, so sadly those i cannot link them here. sorry!

that's pretty much all ik about engirls sources and stuff, if there's else something u want to find but isn't listed here, feel free to ask!! oh also if there's smth u think should be added to the list pls feel free to tell me!

[reendtry]

why did 70% of irls stop supporting B//LM (ion want this post to come up on B////LM tag it’s not important enough to cover up somethibg more significant).... HELLO??????? ITS NOT MF OVER ARE YOU SERIOUS????????? y’all post a black square and think it’s finished i hate it here

[cevansbrat0007]

I posted 437 times in 2022

That's 428 more posts than 2021!

320 posts created (73%)

117 posts reblogged (27%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cevansbrat0007

@maroonsunrise83

@angrythingstarlight

@geminixevans-stan

@celestielcrybaby

I tagged 322 of my posts in 2022

Only 26% of my posts had no tags

#cevansbrat0007 asks - 165 posts

#chris evans - 95 posts

#chris evans imagines - 82 posts

#chris evans smut - 64 posts

#andy barber - 60 posts

#andy barber imagines - 56 posts

#chris evans woc!reader - 51 posts

#andy barber smut - 40 posts

#cevansbrat0007 fics - 39 posts

#chris evans fanfiction - 38 posts

Longest Tag: 36 characters

#not sure who else needs to read this

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Cevansbrat0007′s Masterlist

Masterlists within updated with NEW stories as of 11/18/22!

Thanks for stopping by! My official Masterlist(s) can be found below. Likes, reblogs, comments, and suggestions are always welcome and appreciated! Special thanks to my friend, @birdie-girl​ for helping me organize my life. Happy reading, friends!

Stories marked with (**) indicate smut or implied smut. Minors DNI.

See the full post

1,046 notes - Posted January 21, 2022

#4

Waddle Woes

Summary: At seven months pregnant, you've perfected the art of the waddle. Your emotions are a little out of wack. Plus you may or may not enjoy pickle and peanut butter sandwiches. And your sweet, handsome husband likes to test your delicate patience. Andy Barber x Black Reader

*Warnings: Fluff, Emotional Pregnant Reader, Weird Cravings, Waddles, Threats of Violence (Towards Andy Barber) Minors DNI

A/N: Part of this idea came from the lovely mind of @writer84. Let me know what you think! Part of my Growing Pains Series. Semi-proofread. Not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

You waddle into the kitchen when you hear Andy enter the house. Yes, at seven months pregnant, you waddled. With gusto. And you hated it. You felt like a damned penguin. Your husband thought it was adorable, but that man was also lucky that you hadn’t smothered him with a pillow in his sleep.

You weren’t necessarily proud of it, but yes, the thought had been there. You had always been a stomach sleeper, but now you had to sleep on your side. Or your back. But when you slept on your back you tended to snore. Andy didn’t seem to mind, not that he had a say in it. But you did when you managed to wake yourself up with sounds coming out of your clogged nose and open mouth. It made you feel so pretty.

You felt overly large and unattractive, kind of like a human freight train. Or a bowling ball. And you hadn’t seen your feet in a while. You had always snickered when you’d heard other pregnant women joke about that. But now you realized that it was a thing, like a legit thing! And you missed them.  

Now, did that keep Andy from touching you? Oh absolutely not. He wanted you all of the time. He couldn’t stop touching you. One day about a month ago you’d used your phone to look down at your own delicate flower and had belatedly realized that your lady parts had been in serious need of deforestation.

And had Andy ever said anything about your situation? Nope. And when you had confronted him about it and told him that the two of you wouldn’t be having sex again until after the baby was born so that you could properly groom yourself again, he’d looked at you like were crazy. 

Andy had tried to explain that he didn’t care about the jungle down below, your words not his, because it was still the same pussy that he loved. He’d said that no matter the look, you’d still had that same sweet taste that he’d grown addicted to.

And then when you’d denied him once more, he’d set up a whole spread in your bedroom and had then, uh, shaved you himself. Now that had been quite the experience.

Oh god, and not to mention the fact that he was always kissing your belly and talking to your baby girl. Of course you talked to her too, but with him…

Sometimes you’d wake up in the morning, and in your sleepy haze you’d hear him tell her all about how he couldn’t wait to meet her and how he would always protect her. Or what he had going on for the day. Sometimes he would talk about you as her Mama. You never interrupted them, but this morning you had caught him talking to your belly about your particular love of Strawberry Ice Cream. 

Yeah, you loved him. Your sexy menace. 

But now you were hungry again. You’d had a peanut butter and pickle sandwich a couple of hours ago, but now you and your baby were famished. Andy hated those sandwiches. He usually gagged and had to leave the room. Mostly because you teased him by getting real close and trying to offer him a bite. Haters gonna hate.

You also enjoyed tortilla chips with cottage cheese and tabasco sauce. He didn’t get that one either. But at least it didn’t make him gag. 

However, back to the task at hand, you and your baby were hungry. You hoped he had brought home something good.

“Hi honey.” You call out as you meet him in what had since become your favorite room of the house. “How was your day and what food did you bring me?”

Andy smiles at you, his eyes warming at the sight of you and your very round belly. He also notes that you’re wearing two different slippers, but since he was a smart man, he decided not to say anything. 

“It was good, my sweet little love. How are my babies?” 

“We exist..” You grouse. “And we’re hungry. And I love you, but I feel icky and grouchy.” Your hand goes to massage your lower back. 

“Okaaay.” He murmurs. “Well, I brought home Chinese. I’ve got some Cashewed Chicken, without the cashews.” Andy made sure to make that note, because the last time he’d brought that dish home you’d cried. Because you wanted the meat and veggies and the sauce, but without the cashews. And you had told him that beforehand, but he had thought that was a weird request and had subsequently forgotten. A bewildered and confused Andy was cute.

“I also got Bourbon Chicken, as well as Beef with Broccoli, with Mushrooms. Along with two Pork Egg Rolls and some Wonton Soup.” Your stomach growled and your baby girl kicked. Hell fucking yes.

“I love you. So much.” You tell him. “But what did you get for you?”

He blinks at you, unsure of how to respond. “I mean, I thought we could share. But I suppose I could make myself a sandwich…”

“I’m only joking, big man. Thanks for the food. You can have the soup.”

He nods his head as if to say “oh, okay.”

“Still kidding, Andy.” He could never really tell these days. Either you were super affectionate, or part demon. 

“Can I have a kiss, baby?” He purrs. “I’ve missed you all day. And I’ve been dreaming about getting my hands on your sexy little body and that luscious mouth.”

“Sure, I guess. But fair warning, I had my favorite sandwich a few hours ago. And if you gag while you kiss me, I’m going to get deeply, deeply offended. You know I’m temperamental these days.” You respond with what you hope is a loving smile and not an unstable grin.

See the full post

1,217 notes - Posted May 5, 2022

#3

Just A Bite

Summary: Your toddler notices a bruise on your bottom and informs her Daddy. Little does she know that he was the one that put it there in the first place...  Andy Barber x Black!Reader 

*Warnings: Fluff, Daddy Kink, Andy Barber Being a Menace. Cursing, Ass Slapping, Fingering, Concerned Toddler, Pet Names,  Minors DNI

A/N: This is part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. As always, I’d love your feedback, so please let me know what you think. Semi-proofread. Not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

------

“Daddy home!” Your three-year-old squeals as Andy walks through the door. “Hi, daddy!” Bianca yells as he picks her up..

“Well, hello baby girl. How was your day?” He smothers her face with kisses. “I missed you.”

“Miss you too, daddy!” She responds, making you laugh. She always gets so excited.  

“How was your day, Bianca? What’d you do?” Her brow furrows as she thinks hard. Your baby was smart and she was articulate. Sometimes she just needed a moment. And you both had all of the patience for her.  

She looks at you, and you nod. “Tell Daddy what we did, baby.”

“Umm, mama and I went to dah store.”

“Oh, oh okay. And what did you get?” She looks at him as she thinks about it. “C’mon, we got yours and Daddy’s favorite, didn’t we?” She nods again. “Tell Daddy, what we bought.”

“Cookies!” She exclaims. 

“Aww, you bought Daddy cookies? Thank you, sweetheart. And then what did you do?”

“Uh, had icy cream wif mama.” Andy laughs at that. “What flavor did you have?”

“Starrsbury.” She tells him. You both knew she meant “strawberry”, but you loved the way she talked. “Mama had dah same.”

“Sounds yummy! Is there any left for Daddy?” She huffs. “Mama’s in der.” She points at the fridge. 

“Okay, you two.” You grumble. “Hands off my ice cream, or there will be trouble. For both of you.” You tell them as you wag your finger in their faces. They shrink back just a little, knowing Mama didn’t play about her own starrsbury.

Just then, Bianca grabs Andy’s head and leans in close. “Dada, almost forget.” Oh no, she only ever called him that when she was being serious about something. “Dada.” She rests her head against his. “Need to fix mama.” She tells Andy, prompting your husband to give you a weird look. “Mama has a booboo on her tushy. She say it no hurt. But, Dada, I saw dah ouchie. So fix Mama. Pease.”

Your small hands come up to massage your temples. Yes, Bianca had seen the bite-shaped bruise on your left butt-cheek when you two were in a department store changing room at the mall earlier that day. Being the sweet baby she was, she had immediately become concerned. She’d even tried to kiss it better herself until you’d stopped her. You’d hoped that he had forgotten all about it, but apparently not. 

Andy looks back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Bianca didn’t know this, but he was the one that left that fucking mark to begin with. Your baby was talking to the enemy.

“Thank you for telling me, baby.” He murmurs as he nuzzles her little face with kisses.”Dada will check on Mama, alright? I promise I’ll make it all better. Now how about you go watch some Mickey Mouse Club House and play with your toys?” And then she’s off.

“Hot dog dance!” She screeches.

Palms raised, you slowly walk backwards into the kitchen trying to create some distance between you and your fiend of a husband. The man just did not know when to quit, or maybe he didn’t care. “C’mere, Y/N.” He coos at you.

“Now, Andrew, stay back.” Your back bumps into one of the countertops. “I said stay back, you monster!” You reach for a weapon, but the only option available is one of your baby’s little spoons. “I’ll throw this at your head…it has sauce on it. It’ll stain your shirt.”

He just laughs at your warning. “Y/N, baby girl. We both know you can’t aim for shit unless your mouth is headed for my dick.” Asshole. You fling it anyway, barely missing his head. Which surprises the fuck out of him. 

“Now, Y/N,” Andy tsks at you, arms going across his built chest. “Is that any way to treat the man who loves you more than anything? Is that any way to treat your husband who just wants to make sure you’re not hurt?” His voice is laced with mock sadness, so you don’t buy it for a minute. “After all, our little Bianca was so concerned.”

“Yeah, but only because she doesn’t know that it’s her Daddy who is responsible for her Mama’s ouchie.” You huff out as you try to reach behind your back for another weapon, only to come up empty handed. Shit. 

“Looks like you’re out of ammo now, baby.” Oh, your husband was enjoying this way too much for your liking. “Ass in the dining room, now. Stop making me wait.” Damn, now he had that tone. The kind of tone that just oozed authority. 

He strides over to you, even as you try to move away. “Daddy said march it, honey. I’m gonna need you to listen.” Andy spins you around to smack your butt twice, making you jump. And then he puts his hands on your shoulders and walks you into the room, out of sight of your daughter.

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1,373 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

#2

Off Limits

Summary: You decide that it’s finally time to end your friends with benefits arrangement with Chris. Unfortunately, he doesn’t take the news as well as you’d hoped. Read the Sequel

Chris Evans x Famous Black!Reader

*Warnings: Jealous Chris Evans, Smut, Toxic Chris Evans, Friends with Benefits, Possessive Behavior, Cursing, Oral (f receiving), Manhandling, Unprotected Sex (implied), Minors DNI

A/N: ’d love your feedback, so please let me know what you think. Semi-proofread. Not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

_____________

4:00am

This was the last fucking time.

You cautiously crack open the door and peek around the corner. Technically, it was too early for anyone to be awake just yet, but it was better to be safe than sorry. After confirming that the coast is clear you stealthily make your way back to your own hotel room. 

You press the keycard against the sensor before darting inside. The door swings shut behind you, and then you make the mistake of looking down at your feet, frowning at the sight of your bare toes. 

Goddamnit, you’d forgotten to grab your fucking shoes! 

Pissed at yourself, you fling your body onto the bed and proceed to stare at the ceiling until the sun comes up. 

_____________

Later that Morning...

You’re the first one to arrive at this morning’s press junket. Checking your phone, you’re surprised to see that you’re actually early for once. Probably had something to do with the fact that you hadn’t slept much after sneaking out of a certain someone’s room at the crack of dawn. 

After spending a few hours tossing and turning, you’d eventually thrown yourself out of bed and hit the gym, determined to work that man out of your system. And you hadn’t stopped moving since. 

You take a quick sip of your too-hot caramel macchiato and hiss when it burns your tongue. Sigh. You know what, you were gonna blame him for that too. Yeah it was petty, but so what? 

Now you had nothing to do but to wait for your fellow co-stars. According to the sheet, Mackie and Stan were slated to join you today. Along with Evans. Hopefully that meant you wouldn’t have to engage with him too much.

The moment you hear Chris walk into the room, you make a point of burying your face in your phone. You ignore the sound of his laughter as he cracks a joke with your first interviewer of the day. His deep, rough chuckle lets you know that he just woke up, reminding you that you’d missed out on early morning cuddles.

Just as the interviewer mumbles something about needing to review a few things with their supervisor before the segment, the subject of your ire begins to wander your way. Now the two of you were left alone. Great. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” He greets you, his voice taking on a falsely cheery tone. “I noticed that you were up and gone awfully early this morning.” You grunt in response before taking another sip of your macchiato. “Any particular reason for that?”

“Nope.” Another sip. He takes a seat next to you, making a point of scooting his large body even closer. 

“You know you left your shoes in my room.” He purposely keeps his voice low. “Thought about bringing them with me.” Okay, you know he wants you to look at him, but you won’t. At least not until it was absolutely necessary. “You planning to come get them tonight?” You shrug, unsure of exactly what you were going to do about that little problem. You did love those shoes.

“Hey,” he leans over, allowing you to catch a hint of his cologne. “What’s with the attitude?” You shrug again, trying to keep your face as blank as possible. “You know, Y/N, if anyone has the right to be pissed this morning, it’s me.” A shiver courses through you as his warm breath caresses the sensitive skin just behind your ear. That was one of your spots, and that jerk knew it. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You snipe, before attempting to return your attention to whatever stupid article was on your phone. One of Chris’ large hands reaches over and covers the screen. “Eyes on me, baby.” 

“Let go, Chris.” He tosses a quick look over his shoulder before leaning even farther into your space. “No. Now give me your eyes, please.” Resisting the urge to growl you do as he asks. 

“What?” You snap. 

“I woke up this morning and you were gone.” Chris’s voice is soft, but there is a definite edge to it. “Which means I didn’t get my taste.” He begins whispering soft kisses along your jawline, which makes you immediately pull away. “Stop it!” You hiss. 

When he moves to do it again, you’re forced to use your free hand to push back against his broad chest. “Someone will see.”

Seeming to listen to reason, he leans back into his own chair with a sigh. “So much sass from you already and it’s not even noon.” He mumbles to no one in particular. The hand covering your phone begins to slowly stroke its way up your wrist. Squeezing lightly, he turns to face you again. 

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2,293 notes - Posted February 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Distant

Summary: Your husband has been pretty neglectful lately. Late nights, cancelled plans, missing dinner. Is it possible that he doesn't want you anymore? Andy Barber x Black Reader

*Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Daddy Kink, Insecure Reader, Angry Reader, Remorseful Andy, Ass Slapping, Smut (implied), Rage Cooking, Minors DNI

A/N: This idea is courtesy of the genius mind of @writer84. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. As always, I’d love your feedback, so please let me know what you think. Semi-proofread. Not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

___

You blow out a frustrated breath as you end your call with Andy’s assistant, Samantha. Apparently your lunch plans had been canceled. Again. For the fourth freaking time in as many weeks.

And you were extra pissed because your husband of nearly a year hadn’t even had the decency to call you himself. 

He’d been so distant lately and you couldn’t figure out why. So many late nights and missed dinners. Frankly, you were tired of eating alone. And he was always exhausted when got home. It had even been a little while since you’d made love. You’d tried to get something going with him the other night, and he’d turned you down. 

He had turned you down. You’d had your hand down his pants, lightly stroking and squeezing his thick cock, and he’d actually removed it, kissed you on the forehead, and mumbled “not tonight, honey”. You had been shocked. Andy was a man with a voracious appetite. When he was in the mood, and he was almost always in the mood, he was like the goddamned Energizer Bunny. 

The man just kept going, and going, and going…to the point where you had to occasionally beg him for a break. But not lately. It was almost as if he couldn’t be bothered. 

You sniffle and head to the kitchen. When you felt like this there was only one thing that would help, short of smacking your husband in the face. Some people rage cleaned, but you? You rage cooked.  

___

Several hours later…

When it was all said and done, you had a large pot of savory beef stew simmering on the stove and freshly baked biscuits cooling on the counter, along with a lemon pound cake in the oven, and a strawberry cheesecake settling in the fridge. 

And you hoped Andy choked on all of it.

You were not the type of girl to be ignored. And yet that’s what he was doing. So if he was going to ignore you, then you’d ignore him too. You take a sip of the red wine you’d used for the stew, refusing to judge yourself for drinking it straight from the bottle. Your husband was the only man who had the ability to tie you up in knots like this. 

Stupid man. You hoped he stepped in gum. 

If he didn’t want you anymore, if he was done with you, then he would need to tell you to your face, because you did not do hints. 

Gorgeous asshole. You hoped he got a papercut while reviewing legal briefs, and then used hand sanitizer. 

You check on the stew, trying a piece of the beef to check on the tenderness. It falls apart on the fork. Perfect. And the flavor was divine. Ladling some of the broth into a mixing bowl, you go about whisking in some cornstarch before adding it back into the pot and stirring. When you feel like it has achieved its desired thickness, you go ahead and turn it off. 

Now you just had to wait on the cake. And then you would shower. You take a look at the clock. The time read 6:51pm. Okay, so you’d shower and then you would eat. Alone. As per what had become the fucking usual. 

You pull it out of the oven and test its doneness with a toothpick. Crap. It was still a little gooey. Alright, well back in the oven you go dude. You think to yourself, tearing off a sheet of foil to drape over the top of the cake so as to ensure that it didn’t burn. You’d let it go for another ten minutes.

In the meantime, you had a date with the remaining wine left in the bottle next to you. 

___   

Forty minutes later…

You step out of the shower feeling refreshed, courtesy of your Bath & Bodyworks collection. Thanks to them, you smelled like jasmine and vanilla. You rub the same scented body butter into your thirsty skin, wishing that you had a husband here that would do it for you. Andy would do that sometimes.

He took pleasure in applying lotions and butters all over your body. And it always ended up with you speaking in tongues. That man and those hands…they were dangerous. But he wasn’t here, so whatever. 

Pulling on a pair of purple sleep shorts and a pink cami, you head back downstairs to enjoy your stew. As you’d been prepping the dish, you had belatedly realized that you didn’t have any potatoes. So your culinary creation included meat, mushrooms, carrots, and peas. To make up for the absence of carbs, you decided to boil some egg noodles. You’d gone that route before and sometimes, depending on your mood, you enjoyed that option a little bit more. 

Spooning some noodles and a decent portion of hearty stew into a bowl, you head into the living room to watch television. And yes, you had another glass of wine in your hand as well. 

Handsome buttface. You hoped Andy fell down a well so deep that even Lassie couldn’t find him.

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2,952 notes - Posted May 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[marvelfansince08love]

Hey Neighbour! - Part 3

Word Count: 2.5k 

Pairing: Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader 

Warning: just a bit fluffy x

A/N: Here’s part 3 - I hope you enjoy, loves x

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @mssallymckenna @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @pearplate @r0an0ke @minavenable @coconutlipss @creepingwolfberry @saucy-sapphic @venablemayfairgoode @veteranwerewolf95 @chewbacca0805 @pluied-ete @nyx-aira @witchxaf @supremeinlilac @black--widxw​ @fireflyglass​ @cordeliafoxxe​ @d14n4ol

Part One, Part Two 

Not my gif! 

Hey Neighbour! - Part 3 

The school gate is full of parents and guardians anticipating the ear-screeching sound of the school bell. You stand fidgeting slightly as the slight breeze picks up crossing your arms against your chest, actively wrapping the long coat around your body for warmth. A handful of children burst through the double doors of the building heading straight over into your general direction. Your eyes scan frantically for your sweet girl, relaxing a little once you eye her signature beanie. Her innocent eyes clash with your own, a bright smile appearing on her lips as she races towards you. 

“Mommy!” she screeches without a care in the world, her arms stretch out wide as she collides into your stomach making you grunt at the impact. Wrapping your arms tightly around her small frame you allow your nose to rest on top of her covered hair, basking in her presence for a moment. 

“I’ve missed you today, sweet pea. How was it? Did you make any new friends?” you ask excitedly, bursting at the seams. Amelia matches your enthusiasm as she lists her new classmates and her wonderful teacher, she gasps suddenly as if remembering the most important piece of information. 

“And the best part of it all is that Oz is in my new class!” she exclaims, stopping in her tracks to allow you to remove her backpack so you can carry it for her. You gasp excitedly at her words genuinely happy that her already new found friend is in her class putting some of your worries a side. You’re still rather apprehensive about the new move from within the city but you know deep down this a good fresh start for you both. Before you can continue to walk back to the car, a loud voice calls out Amelia’s name making you both turn at the sound. Oz rushes forward making his way over to you both, a woman you don’t recognize racing after him to catch up. 

‘This must be the babysitter,’ You think, remembering your conversation with Ally over the weekend when she invited you into her home. Ally had a big senate dinner in the city and couldn’t get out of it, you debated offering to babysit Oz while she was stuck at work but realised you were still a complete stranger to her despite only living next door and seeing how well set up her home is regarding security you knew Ally was hesitant when it came to trusting people. 

Oz stands next to Amelia as he tries to catch his breath, he waves tiredly at you before adjusting his glasses, his babysitter not far behind.

“Hi, Miss.Y/N.” He greets, still slightly breathless. You grin fondly at the sweet blonde boy, holding your hand out for him to high-five which he reciprocates happily. 

“Hey Oz! How was your first day back at school?” you ask, knowing that Ally had her worries about him despite her attempts to hide it. He smiles shyly and shrugs indifferently.

“It was okay, I guess. Still the same kids and teacher except for Amelia, we’re in the same class this year!” he informs you, making you chuckle at their excitement to be able to spend more time together. You’re secretly grateful that they have become such fast friends. 

“That’s amazing buddy!” you comment, just as his babysitter places a hand on his shoulder. Her flustered state did not go unnoticed. 

“Oz! You gotta wait for me okay? You can’t be scaring me like that.” she scolds softly, fear evident in her tone. Oz nods guiltily before whispering to Amelia who giggles nodding at whatever he told her. You narrow your eyes at the mischievous pair before glancing at the woman who puts her hand out for you to shake.

“I’m so sorry about that, I’m Lily. I babysit Oz when Ally can’t get away from work,” she explains, grinning sheepishly. You take her hand and shake once before awkwardly letting go.

“Hi, I’m Y/N and this is Amelia. We’re Ally and Oz’s new next door neighbours,” you inform her, watching as something clicks within her eyes. 

“Of course! Ally mentioned new neighbours, well it was lovely to meet you both but we gotta run and get home,” she murmurs, as Oz groans in protest. 

“Can’t I hang out with Amelia, Lily please?!” Oz begs, jittering his bottom lip, his big brown eyes wide as you watch her struggle under his adorable gaze. You crouch down to be eye-level with him as his attention draws to you.

“Oz, Lily here probably wants to prepare dinner for you and get you sorted before your mom comes home, yeah?” you justify, watching as he frowns at your words. Knowing you’ll have a battle on your hand you try a different tactic. Leaning forward you take a big whiff in scrunching your nose for extra effect and sniff near him again, he giggles at your silliness. 

“Y/n why are you sniffing me?!” he asks through giggles as Amelia begins to sniff him as well laughing in the process. 

“I think we have one stinky boy on our hands, what do you think Amelia, Lily?” you address the two females watching as Lily picks up on your efforts, nodding along with you. 

“We don’t like stinky boys, mommy,” Amelia comments, scrunching her nose. Oz gasps and protests through more giggles as your fingers meet his ribcage. 

“Noooo, stoo- stop! I promise I’ll bathe!” he says through giggles. You lax from your tickle attack and stand winking subtly at Lily who looks at you gratefully. 

“How about you go home with Lily and then once I’ve spoken to your mom, you can come over to our house during the week for dinner?” you compromise, watching on in amusement as the clogs turn inside his youthful mind. He looks you in the eyes and nods, putting his hand out for you to shake to seal the deal. 

You pretend to spit into your hand before going to take his small one, watching as he pulls a face full of disgust at your gesture but you can see the amusement in his eyes. 

“Deal,” he says, finalising your little exchange. You nod and grab hold of Amelia’s hand who smiles brightly, her cheeks red from the laughter. 

“Bye bye Ozzy, see you tomorrow at school!” she waves her free hand at him. You say your goodbyes to the blonde boy and his poor babysitter, already discovering that behind that shy exterior there is one adorably cheeky little boy.

“Come on you, let’s get you home.” you murmur to your daughter, feeling your arm swing at your side as she skips happily next to you. 

***

The house is quiet with only the low muffled sounds of the news presenter that echoes from your TV screen in the living room, you sip from your favourite alcoholic beverage as you lazily watch the bright screen while dressed down in a pair of sweatpants and an old big Fleetwood Mac shirt. You were almost ready to call it a night when the sound of keys jingling in the keyhole from outside startles you from your daydreaming, the sudden sound causes you to spill reminisce of the drink onto your pants making you groan before you tense realising that the only other people with a key is your brother and father; who are both back in the city. Wearily walking over to the door you grab hold of the big umbrella by the front door, peeking through the peephole. A faint blurred figure stands next to the door on the other side, the familiar brown short hair and stature makes you relax almost instantly as you place the umbrella down and unlock the door. Ally sways slightly on her feet at the sudden sound and movements of the door opening, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she eyes you dressed in a black pantsuit which shows off her curves beautifully. 

“Not that I’m mad about this but why are you in my house?” she asks, her voice slurring slightly in her drunken state making you bite your lip to hold back a smile. Her big brown glossy eyes take in your attire before scanning the hallway past your shoulder, you step closer to her noticing her off balance to help guide her into the warmth of your home. As soon as your hand touches her arm she leans in closer to you, shivering from the night's cold air. 

“I believe you, it is you who is trespassing onto my property, Senator.” you tease, a soft grin appearing onto your lips as you gently guide her into the living room sitting her onto the sofa and taking a seat next to her. Her eyes squint as she takes in the bare living room trying to piece the room together in her head, her red lips forming a perfect ‘o’ as her eyes land onto your amusing form. 

“Oh,” she whispers, before you nod to her silent conclusion. You laugh at her apologetic face which makes her giggle too. “Oh god, I am so sorry. I may have had a little more wine than I originally thought,” she tries to explain through slurred words as she sinks heavily into the sofa, closing her eyes briefly as she places a hand over her them. You pat her knee in comfort still rather amused that someone who is usually so well put together can be such a sloppy drunk.

“Would you like a drink of water, Ally?” you whisper, hoping that the disruption downstairs hasn’t disturbed a sleeping Amelia. She spreads her fingers apart and peeks through the gap nodding, a small pout forming onto her full lips making you linger on the enticing soft red a moment longer before quickly diverting your eyes away and standing muttering “I’ll be just a minute”. 

You let out the breath you're holding and fill the glass up with cold water, taking a few minutes to gather your thoughts. You’ve noticed the small sparks between you both ever since you laid eyes on her through her kitchen window, her eyes always lingering on your lips that little bit longer whenever you spoke when you went to introduce yourself. Rubbing at your temple gently you argue with yourself knowing that the whole reason you moved here was to have a fresh start, just you and Amelia. After your ex-fiance left right after giving birth to Amelia you decided right there and then that you don’t need anyone and even if you did try you would only be blindsided and hurt again. Ally is like a bright burning flame and the more you see her the more that light intrigues you to step forward and become close to it.

‘But at some point that bright light goes off and you are left to feel nothing’ you conclude, shaking your head at your conflicting thoughts before stepping away from the sink and heading back to the living room. You stop in your tracks by the staircase, your eyes widen at the familiar young voice from behind you.

“Why is Miss. Ally in our house, mommy?!” Amelia’s tired voice asks, you turn around and hold your hand out for her to take as she descends from the last few steps. You glance briefly over to Ally who sits on the sofa still, leaning her forearms against the top of the sofa she grins at Amelia. 

“How do you know you’re not in my house?” she questions, a teasing glint in her eyes as Amelia’s eyes widen for a second innocently believing any word from an adults mouth. Her gaze turns to me for confirmation making you quickly shake your head, scolding playfully over to Ally who shrugs innocently. 

“I see the wine has flown from your head to your mouth,” you grumble playfully, watching as she scrunches her nose apologetically. Amelia glances at you confused before turning her gaze back to Ally.

“Are you having a sleepover with my mom?” her innocent eyes stare openly at Ally, who’s lips twitch at your daughter's words, her eyes lingering on your form for a moment, making you squirm slightly under her dark gaze. 

“Well wouldn’t that be fun, huh Melia! Unfortunately silly me got confused and thought this was my  house!” she explains to her gently, her words more clearer now that she’s aware of her current state as well as Amelia’s presence and being a mother herself she knows when to switch back into the role despite the alcohol that swarms around in her head. Ally squints in discomfort as she lightly grazes her temple with her fingertips making you move forward quickly handing her the glass of water, she quietly thanks you and takes a delicate sip sighing in relief at the cold texture. Amelia moves forward and sits next to Ally on the sofa, swinging her legs as they hover above the rug. 

“You gotta headache, Miss. Ally? Mom always tells me to drink lots of water when I get a headache,” she informs, smiling pleased to have informed Ally of something so important. Ally places the glass down on the table and cups Amelia’s cheek, stroking her thumb across her full cheek, smiling adoringly at her. You stand still by the doorway, a sense of warmness spreading across your chest as you watch them interact. Usually you would be wary of new friends touching Amelia so freely but Ally has such a natural instinct to comfort and show simple displays of affection, especially to Oz it almost feels safe to have interacted with Amelia in this way. 

“I’m okay, sweet girl. I was a bit silly at dinner tonight and the wine has made me a little loopy,” she explains to her, smiling wide as Amelia giggles into her hands. 

“Wine is yucky! Mommy says it’s only for adults and it tastes funny,” You nod agreeing with before moving forward and crouching down next to her. 

“That’s right munchkin. Now why don’t you quickly grab your coat and boots so we can walk Ally to her door,” you suggest, watching her once sleepy eyes widen in excitement at the prospect of a late night adventure on a school night even if it’s to walk across the yard. 

“Oh Y/N you really don’t-” you stop her protests with a flick of your hand. 

“It’s fine Ally, I’d feel better if I got you home safe,” you insist, standing to grab your shoes to stop any further protests from the brunette. 

Once you are both ready, you open your front door to allow her and Amelia to step outside. Amelia skips ahead a short feet away leaving you side to side with the brunette beauty, her shoulder brushing lightly against your own making you shiver at the innocent brushing. Ally looks over to you in concern. 

“Are you cold? Honestly, you and Amelia go back in I’m about ten steps away from my doorstep,” she chuckles but you can see in her eyes under the bright glow of the streetlights that she’s grateful for the company, still a little unsteady on her feet. As you reach the porch steps you instinctively place a hand onto her back to steady her balance as she ascends, you feel the small tension in her back from the cold slowly relax under your touch, glancing briefly at her face you notice a small smile gracing her lips softly. As you reach the top Amelia is already waiting for you both rocking back and forth on her heels. 

“Is Ozzy awake? Can we play hide and seek?” she asks excitedly, as she yawns straight after. You share an amusing look with your neighbour, knowing all too well the persistence of a tired child. 

“No sweetheart, he’s in bed or he should be. I’m going to check now to make sure before I go to bed myself,” Ally murmurs quietly, bending down to brush some of Amelia’s escaped strands of hair from under her trusted beanie. Amelia pouts and you groan to yourself knowing what's coming. 

“Okay Amelia Cakes, we’ll see Ozzy tomorrow but you gotta go back to bed once we get in ready to hang out with him tomorrow in school,” you justify, raising an eyebrow at her grumpy expression which falters under your stern but kind gaze. Her shoulders slump as she realises her defeat. 

“Okay, Mommy.” she grumbles tiredly moving closer over to you and cuddling into your side. Ally watches on in light amusement staying quiet while you speak to your daughter. Looking up at her you notice the tiredness forming around her eyes too, deciding to call it night you wait until Ally unlocks her door before giving her a shy smile and wave. 

“Night Neighbour,” you murmur, a small glint of amusement in your eyes as she matches your expression. 

“Good night, dancing queens. Thank you for walking me home,” she whispers, leaning against her door frame a soft smile playing on her lips. You nod once before turning your gaze onto Amelia as you feel your coat tuck downwards on your body. With big pleading eyes you sigh fondly knowing exactly what she wants, crouching you turn away from her and grunt as the new found weight lands onto your back, little legs wrapping around your hips and arms circling around your neck. You stand and smile once more at Ally who watches on fondly before nodding towards your house, she nods in understanding and places a hand on Amelia’s back. 

“Sweet dreams Amelia,” 

“Nighty night, Miss. Ally.” her tired grumbles come from your back as she flaps her fingers in some sort of wave making you both laugh. 

Stepping down the steps carefully you steadily make your way over to your drive, turning back slightly as you see Ally peep over and wave one finally before stepping into the house. Keeping Amelia on your back you make your way through the house and into her bedroom, placing her gently onto the bed with the smallest of bounce making her giggle tiredly. Pulling off her boots and coat you wait for her to crawl under the duvet, beanie still in place. Once settled you take the beanie off and leave it by her bedside, brushing her hair from her face watching her eyelashes flutter as she struggles to stay awake. 

‘Hide and seek huh? Maybe next time kid’ you smile to yourself. Placing a gentle kiss to her forehead you turn her lamp off and switch on her starlight's before leaving the door ajar. 

Making your way downstairs, you go to grab Ally’s empty glass and take it through into the kitchen. Standing by the sink you rinse the glass out and place it onto the drying rack, a light from across the way makes you glance over curiously. To your surprise, standing by her own kitchen window drinking a glass of water is, Ally. As if sensing eyes on her, brown eyes find your form through the window making you tentatively raise a hand and wave in greeting. Ally places her index up to you indicating for you to wait there, she disappears from view for a moment before returning again her gaze falling to the floor for a few moments before locking onto you again an amusing grin in place. 

“Are you sure this is my house?” the question written in bold for you to see from across the way. Clicking onto her game you turn to look for one of Amelia’s old notepads, grabbing a black marker from the draw. 

“I can show you the lease if you like?” her mouth opens wide indicating her laughter before looking down again for a few moments.

“I’ll believe you for now…” 

“Phew, I was worried for a second there” she grins at that, biting down onto her bottom lip as if debating her next move.

“So sleepovers huh?” her eyebrows raise in a teasing manner, wiggling the dark brows for extra effect making you chuckle. 

“Sorry only cool kids allowed ;)”  you shrug indifferently but the small grin that appears upon your lips shows you enjoy teasing her back. 

“That’s a shame, I’m rather inclined to the idea of an adult sleepover” her wicked grin shows her victory over this silent flirting game as you flush and gap at her for a second unable to follow up. Not wanting her to have the last word you confidently write out your next sign. 

“I’m more of a wine and dine first kinda gal, I’m afraid” you say but gulp once you realise the opening you’ve given her. 

“Is that you agreeing to a date that I haven’t even asked you out on yet?” her teasing message makes you groan as you feel your cheeks warm at the question. Placing both hands over your eyes, you miss the fond expression that makes its way onto Ally’s face as she waits patiently for you to look at her again. Peeking through you notice she’s placed a new sign upon the window with a wide smile grazing her lips. 

“8 o’clock Friday? x” are the only words written as she waits for your reply. Biting your lip you contemplate her offer, wanting to push down the negative thoughts that begin to surface. The feeling of nervousness spreads low in your stomach as you think about the last time you even went on a date knowing how well that turned out, looking back over to her face you notice the slight falter in her expression as you take your time to reply. Before you can contemplate further, your hand begins to trace the words that seal the deal. 

“Can’t wait x”

[fool-inthe-rain]

Almost Lover

Sirius Black x Reader

HanahakiAU

Warnings: Throwing up, Angst, Blood, no Peter 

wc: 1104 

masterlist

a/n: Hey guys, this is a repost bc Tumblr removed this from the tags for some reason. Anyways this is my first fic ever lmk how you like it!

Hanahaki. The flower disease. The disease of Unrequited love. Symptoms include, but are not limited to, throwing up flowers, flowers growing in your lungs, breathing problems and, death. Treatments include, having the person you love fall in love with you or (the less desirable of the two) surgery that removes the flowers along with any and all romantic feelings for said person. 

Professor Sprout once a year gave a sit down lecture to all fourth years about Hanahaki, causes, symptoms, treatments, and the history of. She would explain its rarity, how a case hasn't been recorded in over fifty years, and she wasn't wrong. The young girl's case hadn't been recorded, because she was not dead yet. Hanahaki plagued her lungs, her life, her throat, chest and mind. She would run to Myrtle’s bathroom during class when her chest would start to burn and her stomach would start to cramp. If Lily Evans was in class with her, she would follow her to the bathroom to hold back her hair and wipe the blood off her mouth after the petals were done clogging her throat. 

“This shouldn’t be happening.” Lily would say to Y/N. Her head would be shaking as she repeated the words over and over again. “Why don’t you just tell him?” 

You see, she couldn’t tell him, Sirius Black that is. She couldn’t tell him she was absolutely and unequivocally in love with him. She couldn’t tell him that she threw up flowers at just the mere thought of him. He was in love with another, Marlene McKinnon. Y/N didn’t blame him either, Marlene was beautiful, sweet, loyal everything he deserved. She couldn’t tell him that she had been in love with him since second year, since he had beat her at wizard chess one night in the common room during Christmas Holiday. She was killing herself for his happiness. 

Y/N would help him with charms and in change he would help her with transfiguration. She would blush every time he complimented her affinity to charms, every time he would scoot his chair closer to her to get a better look at her papers she would begin to feel the burn in her chest and the ache in her heart. Their study sessions grew thin, they would meet once a month if lucky.

The flowers had been free flowing for three months now. They started as Lilacs, youthful innocence, then changed to Roses, love. Only a week ago they had changed from Snapdragons, desire, to Aconite, hatred. Hatred for herself no doubt, for what she thought of as stupidity and foolishness. She no longer showed up to the great hall for meals and she changed her classes to all the ones Sirius was not in. Not because she had hatred for him, but because one glance at the boy and she would be throwing up full flowers that had rooted themselves in her lungs. Even when she was not around him she would cough up petals wet with blood. Her eyes would burn with tears as she clawed at her throat trying to choke out the bright flowers. 

Sirius had noticed right away something was wrong with her, they all had. Remus and James cornered Lily one day and had gotten her to tell them what was wrong. The answer to them was simple. 

“Well why doesn’t she just tell him how she feels?” The pair asked almost simultaneously. 

“She’s sacrificing herself for his happiness.” Lily would answer, her throat getting thick with tears.

Y/N knew Lily told Remus and James and she didn’t mind. She didn’t mind the constant questions or worried glances from them every time she cleared her throat. Remus didn’t mind staying with her late at night in the common room after she had been emptying the garden in her lungs for hours, and James didn’t mind keeping her distracted when Sirius was around so she wouldn’t see him. 

Sirius however, minded. He minded the secret keeping, they way your cheeks had sunken in and they way your eyes were constantly welled up. He minded that one of his best friends no longer talked to him, but Marlene would come around and he would be distracted from thinking about what could be wrong. 

So, another week went by. Another week of Remus rubbing her back and of James talking her head off. Another week of Lily holding back her hair and wiping the blood off her face. Another week with a Hogsmeade trip at the end of it, a trip that Y/N insisted her friends go on. She needed the rest she would say. So they went on the trip and her flowers changed. From Aconite, hatred, to Red Anemone’s, death and forsaken love. Forsaken by nobody but herself. 

Lily, James, Remus and Sirius had all returned to the castle that Saturday night. Madame Pomfrey waiting by the entrance.

“Lily Evans, I need you to come with me.” She spoke in a hurried tone. Lily rushed ahead of Madame Pomfrey, the three boys chasing after them. Lily and Madame Pomfrey disappeared into the hospital, but Remus stopped Sirius before he could go in.

“There's something you need to know. Y/N is sick, she has Hanahaki.” Remus sputtered out as quickly as he could. 

“What are you talking about? Why didn’t she tell me?” Sirius was getting angry now, this was dire and nobody had told him.

“She told us not to, but Sirius, it's you. She’s in love with you and she chose your happiness over her own. This was her choice.” James cut into the conversation, frantic eyes darting all over the place.

Sirius was fighting against Remus now, trying to get past the door. 

“No, no I love her, I don’t love Marlene. It’s Y/N it's always been her! Let me in Remus!” His voice was getting hoarse through his tears and the quick realization and confession that had just been dumped on him. Remus and James moved to the side and Sirius pushed past the door.

“I LOVE YOU!” He yelled into the hospital. He saw her. He saw the bloodied flowers that lay in full bloom on her chest and around the floor. He saw Lily kneeling on the floor next to the bed, grasping her friend's hand in her own. Soft cries slipping past her lips. 

“No, Oh God no, don’t tell me I was too late.” Sirius cried in distress, his hands gripping and pulling at his hair as he tried to make sense of it all.

She killed herself for his happiness. Or so she thought.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Call to Action Posts

This is no call to action about anything life or death, but there's things that I definitely demand for trying to interact with me and with this blog.

Learn Black Women's Names

Stop Clogging Black Women's Tags

Dismantle the Misogynoir

[7wanderingpaws]

Captain Bucheon 04

Warnings: language, suggestive

Word count: 4.6K

story masterlist masterlist

tags: @wooya1224 @to-all-the-stories-i-love @jennxx3 @realllllrica (let me know if you want to be un/tagged)​

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<-- Previous - Next -->

Fourth: Painful memories

Baekhyun seemed like a distant dream when you awoke the next day. Everything that happened, starting with your obliviousness to his presence at the field all the way to the moment you slapped him and poured your emotions out; they all felt like they never happened. 

It was your throat, raw and sore from screaming, that indicated last night happened. You woke up tired, feeling your nose clogged and head heavy. As if constantly haunting you, behind closed eyes you saw his; they were looking at you, troubled and wavering. Baekhyun was at your mercy last night. And you were merciless.

One of the painful memories was exceptionally difficult to erase from your mind. Baekhyun's words, that he uttered one year ago in his office, were haunting you and making you believe that things could have been different if you were not lying to him.

I would have waited for you.

Those words were running around in front of your eyes, each word snaking itself in confusing circles creating slight dizziness. Would he have really waited, though?

Groaning, you turned to your other side spotting Yuyeon’s sleeping figure. She wasn’t in the room when you arrived last night, enabling you to cry to your heart's content, which you did. You cried yourself to sleep and now, here was the result. Swollen eyes, headache and a sore throat.

Your phone that was safely tucked under your pillow gave a short vibration, indicating a message. You were waiting for it; it was the last working day after all. Weekend was coming up and you couldn’t wait to get the necessary free time to do your school work and recover from shouting at Byun Baekhyun.

You checked the text message and you planned your day ahead accordingly.

Unknown number

Parcel delivery for the weekend by Sunday 23:30. Bucheon Christian University main gate’s security house.

You frowned, mulling over the destination. Until now, it was always an apartment building and, with the new found information that the messages could have possible secondary destinations encoded, you grew a little uneasy. If issues occurred, would there be another option to deliver the parcel to?

><

There was a hustle going on in Baekhyun’s department that day. Several robberies, crimes and attacks and every officer was preoccupied with suffering victims begging for help and justice.

He also had a couple of cases to deal with, yet he kept zoning out. He barely got a wink of sleep and now he needed to be at his best when he would have much rather stayed home and let himself think through stuff. Not that he didn’t have a whole year to think.

“Knock knock, coffee delivery!” 

Park Chanyeol, the number one detective and also Baekhyun’s close friend, walked in, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. “What’s up Captain?”

“Thanks,” murmured Baekhyun when Chanyeol handed him the mug. “Any news on the case?” he asked, ignoring his friend’s question completely.

Chanyeol crashed on the chair opposite him with a sigh. “Nope,” he replied. “No solid updates. No leads. The attack was sudden and we can’t seem to find a trace of the target.”

Baekhyun sighed. “Two young women have been attacked so far. They were in their mid-twenties.”

“Actually, both of them were in their final year of university,” added Chanyeol with a serious tone.

“That could be a solid lead,” murmured Baekhyun even though his mind was wandering off again. He was quick to zone out on his friend who continued describing the crime scenes, thinking out loud but Baekhyun was already on a completely different page.

You were just seventeen… and he was so heartless. He could vividly remember the actual happenings in his office. He was sitting just where he was seated now, behind his big table full of paperwork and computer while you were becoming smaller and smaller under his smoldering gaze. 

Baekhyun was extremely mad that day. He couldn’t remember the last time he was that mad. Not even the forever annoying Siamsa could annoy him to those bits and he was slowly realizing that it must have been because he liked you much more than he had let himself believe. You betraying his trust, seeing him as a fool and doing stupid stuff behind his back were the exact things he despised in humans. Yet, you did all of them. And one year later, here he was, with you on his mind.

He cringed inwardly when he remembered the harsh words he told you.

You were stupid enough to get caught.

You can be goddamn sure I wouldn’t talk to a KID.

It was a grave mistake to talk to you.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, not even catching Chanyeol abruptly stopping his talk. Baekhyun was way too brutal with you. He groaned out loud when he remembered another horrible thing he said. I’m breaking up with you if it wasn’t obvious enough. Plus, I’m arresting you…

“Are you okay? You really seem out of it today.” Chanyeol seemed concerned and even a little perplexed as Baekhyun rarely showed this kind of behavior in front him, let alone showing it at his workplace. In the office, Baekhyun was the one to be scared of, to be respected and bowed to. This Baekhyun seemed like if Chanyeol pushed him with his finger, he'd crumble.

“I'm fine,” muttered back the captain with a throaty voice.

Chanyeol pursed his lips, unsure how to ask what had been on his mind since he entered the office. Instead of wanting to deal with a serious talk, a cheeky glint lit up in his eyes. “Perhaps you met her again?”

“Her?” Baekhyun frowned with a down-ward tilt on his lips.

Chanyeol wiggled his eyebrows as he stretched on the chair. “You know who!” he took a breath and with his deep voice, started to sing:

She looked incredible Just turned 17 I guess my friends are right She's out of my league So what am I to do? She's too good to be true

Baekhyun couldn't help himself when he heard the lyrics his friend correlated with you. They couldn't have been more accurate and despite him being in a bad mood, the idea made him laugh under his nose as he looked on the floor. “Actually, I did. And I got slapped,” he revealed somehow proudly as he let himself sit on his chair, enjoying the astonished look on Chanyeol's face.

“No way!” he straightened up in his seat, leaning forward so he could get a better look at his friend. “She slapped you? Damn, this girl is feisty. She keeps beating up our captain!” he laughed out loud, consumed by the images of you, the young woman in her late teenage years, slapping someone of Baekhyun's calibre.

“Yeah, well, she's always been fearless.” he shrugged, frowning out of a sudden. “I screwed that girl up pretty badly, Chan, but that's no news.”

Chanyeol went quiet for a minute, fully aware of Baekhyun's emotions and the way the past events had been eating him up. “How is she doing these days?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “I guess well? She's lost some weight, but,” he sighed and proceeded to talk about the event that he witnessed with the boys sexually harassing you.

“The kids these days can't keep it in their pants,” cackled Chanyeol in disbelief but Baekhyun was far from entertained. His jaw was locked, the skin pulsing with tension at the mere idea of last night.

“If they ever as much as think about her I swear to god-”

“Whoa, hold on, Baek. You know you can't just get involved.”

“What do you mean I can't just get involved? They were harassing her, and I'm a cop.”

“I think your rage is more fueled because it's about Nari. As much as you seek justice, you shouldn't let your emotions take the better out of you. Besides, people might get suspicious-”

“Chanyeol, what the fuck?” snapped Baekhyun angrily. “If she were any woman I'd do the same.”

“You would not punch in order to protect just any woman.”

“Yes, I would-”

“No, you would do the smart talk and intimidate them with your power and  authority. But you punched the kid, Baek.”

Baekhyun sighed in agitation, his hand coming yet again up to his face, tiredly rubbing at the skin. “So what should I have done? I myself am confused about my emotions but I know I care about her a lot.”

“Of course you care about her. You drank straight up one month after she found out about your fake boyfriend identity and you broke up.”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes, hating the way Chanyeol was so blunt with his words. “Either way, she still hates me.”

“Would you fight for her if she ever gave you a chance?” asked Chanyeol quietly, his fingers nipping at his lower lip in thought.

Baekhyun opened his mouth, ready to answer way too quickly before he stopped himself. He was frozen when he realized the answer that so naturally came to him. Would he fight for you if you ever decided to build the bridges again? He definitely would have one year ago when he came to your high school to see you.

“You're hesitating,” stated Chanyeol and pursed his lips. “I think you're scared, too, captain.”

Baekhyun scoffed but Chanyeol cut him off: “You would hate losing her again. And she is a fragile kid, scarred by everything that happened to her. She could be even more vulnerable with you. Remember that.”

><

“Where are you going?” asked Yuyeon, confused, when you were putting on your black jeans and a black hoodie. The helmet for the scooter was already tucked under your arm, ready to leave for the Saturday night. Time was ticking in your brain and you grew quite anxious about possible bad outcomes of this delivery if you wouldn't leave right away.

“Work,” you shrugged, “will get this done and then I will be free,” you smiled, a little strained but Yuyeon only gave you a suspicious side glance.

“You never work on the weekends! This employer is already playing with you and telling you to work even when it's not your official hours,” she frowned deeply, looking like a sulking child.

You sighed and suppressed the need to roll your eyes. “Okay, mum, I'll be back in time, no worries.”

“You better be! I won't fuss about wanting to go to a club when you're oh so busy.”

“I promise we can go next Friday!” you shouted, opening the door to put on your shoes.

She grumbled in response and you laughed to yourself, slamming the doors behind you when you slid your feet into your boots. Making sure they were tied well, you rushed out into the chilly evening, making your way to the mini-scooter Chul borrowed you so you could get the job done easier.

Bucheon Christian University was a little further away from your campus, so you made sure you followed the map carefully once you got the box from the apartment you usually got it from. The apartment itself was a high-rise, family friendly building and, just like the previous times, this box was also very light in your arms despite it being a little bigger. You had a spare rope under the seat of the scooter, so you tied it securely so it wouldn't fall when you had it between your feet.

As you were reaching the destination, you realized your palms were becoming more sweaty. Your heartbeat, usually quiet, was now gently beating in your ears, letting you know the stress levels were rising.

“You arrived at your destination,” said the GPS when you passed a big entrance that was leading into a small campus with white buildings that seemed too out of the place. Wanting to get the job done quickly, you searched with eager eyes for a little building that would be the security office, getting off the scooter and untying the delivery.

Seeing a box-like metal security office for the car park barrier you swallowed harshly, walking up to it. There were no signs of life inside, the lights out and the barriers probably working on auto mode. For other people, it must have looked ridiculous - you walking with a bigger box towards the security office but you could only hope no one would see your face which was the reason why you were reluctant to take the helmet off.

You were walking up to what you deemed the correct destination, but you couldn't help the uneasy feeling. There is no need, you insisted in your mind, because this was the correct destination. You would put the box down in front of the doors and just leave. Yes. That was correct.

Despite your weak reassurances, you kept looking around making sure you weren’t missing another spot. Your heartbeat was still gently pumping in your ears, reminding you that this was a little more stressful than the previous outings.

As you reached the doors to the security office, you put the box down more to the side as the doors were directly in front of the road for the cars. Feeling the relief of accomplishing another day of delivery, you turned around and started walking back towards the scooter, the tension slowly but surely easing up. You looked back several times to make sure the box was still there and with that you sat on the scooter and rode away, excited that you didn’t miss out on the night just yet.

If Yuyeon would be up for fun, you could finally go and be reckless!

><

Baekhyun was about to turn off the lights and call it a night at 9pm when a loud set of knocks disturbed his peace. Thinking it was his friends who wanted to give him a surprise visit, he swiftly opened the door only to be surprised when he spotted a ball of pink.

“The hell are you doing here?” he snapped, not moving to let the uninvited guest in.

Siamsa, or, to Baekhyun, Sooah, rolled her eyes as she stepped closer. “Well, hi to you, handsome. I’ll tell you if you let me in.”

“Well, I don’t want to know,” he replied in an even voice. “So that makes it easier. Bye-“

“Wait!” she exclaimed quickly and made a step in, wanting to prevent him from slamming the door shut in her face. “It’s about your ex.”

He didn’t want to admit it; but his heart jumped at the mention of you. Sooah never cared enough about Baekhyun’s other exes before her. Unfortunately for you, you came after her and Siamsa, the kpop sensation, was not processing it well. “If you’re gonna talk bullshit, I’ll spare myself the time-“

“If you want to protect her, you should listen,” she sing-sang nonchalantly, playing with the ends of her long hair. It was dyed blond and made her seem innocent which she was far from.

“And how would you know what’s up with Nari? You’ve already done so much shit in the past! What makes you think I’ll believe you?”

Sooah shrugged, pretending to be unbothered. “Well, I care about your well-being, Baekhyun. I know you care about her. I know the break-up was brutal. You locked up her brother-“

Baekhyun was fast to grab her by her wrist and yank her inside, quickly kicking the door shut. Sooah had a satisfied smirk on her face when she took in his distressed expression. “How. Do. You. Know. That.”

“Mhmm, so hot,” she whispered with a wink, mocking him. “I always liked how manly you are, my little one-“

“Listen,” he cut her off angrily, the nickname making him shudder inwardly, “I don’t care about your fucking games. I’m way past you and all your stupid shit. But I swear to god, if you do something to Nari-“

“You seem to have luck on girls who do stupid shit,” she mimicked him as she stood closer, making sure her breath fanned his chin. “Nari seems to go from one trouble to another. One day she might as well end up like her brother,” she laughed to herself.

“How do you know about her brother?” he asked again in a low tone, trying hard to ignore the anger he felt whenever she mentioned you.

Sooah pulled a fake thinking face, tapping her slender finger with perfect nail art on her chin. “For starters, don’t underestimate my honesty, Baekhyun. I know more than you think. I really care about you, you know,” she mumbled the last sentence and dared to reach up with her hand, touching his cheek gently. “Me messing up by protecting my identity - you were too harsh with me back then, sweetie.”

Baekhyun sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and moving his face away from her touch. She was bringing up the past and he didn’t like it; he didn’t want to dive in it. Sooah was a great manipulator and he didn’t want to fall down the guilt rabbit hole when he knew he did the right thing in the past. “We are done with that talk.”

“I was never done with that talk,” she was fast to protest. “You were. I still want you.” When she moved to stand closer to him, Baekhyun quickly stood back and away from her. “Baekhyun!”

“Tell me what you know about Lee Nari and then leave!”

“I want something in return,” she rebutted quickly, even confidently, but the desperation on her face was speaking volumes. “And I’ll tell you all I know.”

He grit his jaw, hard. “I swear to god, Sooah, stop testing me-“

“It’s noona for you,” she murmured with a sharp gaze that kept flickering over his features. He always looked good, but judging from his outfit, she knew he was preparing to sleep. That hoodie would soon be taken off and those plaid pants too. Her mind swirled just at the thought of it.

“We are done with that too—“

“You can’t fight the age difference, baby,” she purred and stepped closer. She enjoyed seeing his internal conflict. Despite being a harsh captain, she knew which buttons to push for him to submit, although she didn’t like that it involved you. She hated that the only way she could talk to Baekhyun was if she mentioned your name.

Baekhyun sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ok. Speak. Otherwise I’m throwing you out.”

Sooah burst out into laughter, quickly hiding her laminated teeth and scrunched up nose behind her hand. “You manhandling me wouldn’t be the first time, Captain,” she said in a low, sensual tone as she trailed her long fingernail over his chest. She could have sworn it was more toned than the last time she had the pleasure of touching it. “And you know how much I like it.” When she saw him closing his eyes in exasperation, she trailed the finger upwards to his prominent collarbones before she took the side of his neck in her palm, running her thumb over the pulse point. “God, I miss you so much. Like, so, so much, my sweetie.” She knew she was testing the limits. She also knew an angry Baekhyun was anything but good news. She refused to spare him, though. “Your girlfriend is a bad girl. She’ll easily become a criminal if she continues doing the bad stuff.”

Baekhyun snapped his eyes open. “Is she up to something these days?” he asked almost breathily.

Her fingers traveled to the nape of his neck and she buried them in the hair, lightly scratching at the skin. Baekhyun was fighting the shuddering feeling, hoping his body wouldn’t betray him.

“Oh, yes. When isn’t she up to something,” she mumbled thoughtfully, her hawk eyes taking note of Baekhyun’s slight blush. He was getting affected with her ministrations and she stepped closer to him. He didn’t move away.

“What is it?” he hummed when her other hand massages his chest in small circles. “What is it that she is doing?”

Sooah had a mischievous glint in her eyes as she bit her bottom lip in triumph. “Give me a kiss and I’ll tell you-“

“No games!” snapped Baekhyun angrily, his eyes stormy as he glared at her.

“Then you won’t find out!”

“Sooah!”

“Just a magic word and a little kiss is all I want, sweetie,” she whispered, enjoying his intent stare on her. “I promise that’s all I will want and you get to access all you need to know.”

“No,” he shook his head resolutely. “I don’t care.”

“You care so fucking much about her,” it was her turn to spit now, gradually getting infuriated with his reluctance to submit to her. “Or do you want me to, perhaps…” she trailed off, puckering her lips, feigning thinking, “tell everyone in her school you dated her as an underaged kid?”

That was it for Baekhyun. Something snapped within him and he made a threatening step towards his ex, who didn’t even budge at his abruptness. “I dare you to say a single word that would harm her reputation, Sooah. I dare you to. She already went through so much shit because of me and her family.”

Sooah was smirking as she watched the captain's troubled, but hard face. It hurt her, but she wasn’t the most emotionally literate person; she was selfish and sometimes enjoyed suffering of others. That was how a very bad product of the entertainment industry looked like. Whether she would admit it was questionable. Sooah would never give Baekhyun up when her emotions for him were so deep, when the man was desirable so much. It was always a given that he was a one of a kind man and she always wanted everything that was one of a kind.

“What a good man you are, Byun Baekhyun,” she hummed, her eyes focused on his lips. “Caring about a child so much. A child who lied to you from the very first start.”

“Whatever the hell you are trying to do here, leave it,” gritted Baekhyun eventually. “And tell me what she is up to.”

“I already told you what’s the price!” she whined, making Baekhyun frown. “A kiss. On the lips.” With her finger, she tapped her lower lip, excitement cursing through her when she saw Baekhyun eyeing her mouth. “And then the secrets are all yours.”

It was tempting; not the kiss, but the reward. Baekhyun’s mind was racing with possibilities, with outcomes. Then he became worried. He knew how twisted Sooah could be, and were she to talk in front of your school about your relationship, you’d most probably never forgive him for letting it happen and he himself would be in huge trouble. Maybe that thought was even stronger than his need to know whether you were in trouble or not.

To make Baekhyun’s pondering a little easier, Sooah boldly pressed her palm against his toned stomach, the muscles instantly flexing upon her intrusive touch. Sooah knew Baekhyun was a very sensitive man; a single tingle on his neck could turn him on, the lightest of scratches could make him stand up proud. She knew he had to be affected by her minimal ministrations. She knew him perfectly. Touching up the ridges around the muscles, she let her hand slide lower to his abdomen before reaching to cup his—

Baekhyun slapped her hand away with a growl and pressed her against the door. “One fucking kiss and you’ll spill everything,” he breathed. She couldn’t even react before he pressed his lips harshly against hers, the texture of her lip gloss attaching to his lips. Sooah groaned, arms instantly hugging his neck. Her long finger nails scratched his nape and Baekhyun’s will was becoming weaker. 

The familiar scent of her strong, sweet perfume wafted over his senses, reminding him that this was not the woman he cared about anymore. Her eager tongue pushed his lips apart and was fast to battle with his own. The way she kissed him was nothing but desperate, needy, a call for attention. He hated it. The last time he kissed a woman— a girl was a year ago and her lips were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Despite her being brave with him, her kisses were shy, careful, kitten-like and Baekhyun accidentally groaned at the thought of that. 

He pressed his lips harsher against this woman’s while imaging an innocent girl behind his eyelids. His hands were pressed against the door but he wanted to touch so bad. He only got to touch her once and not the way he would have liked, and now he had to fight the urge to let his hands slide around the curves, to outline her behind while her chest would be pressed against his.

He was quickly reminded that the body pressing against him was indeed not Lee Nari. Sooah had a slim physique with a flat chest and a big space between her thighs. He loved it once, but not anymore.

Before Sooah could cup his private part again he broke the kiss, desperately needing some air and needing to snap out of his deep fantasy. Blinking several times, he got to see the face that went through so many changes with plastic surgery and when she smiled at him with swollen lips, he realized how unreal this woman was. Unreal and unfaithful.

“What is Lee Nari doing ?” he breathed, the question coming out in a low murmur, his lips visibly swollen.

The spark that was in Sooah’s eyes left, quickly interchanged with hate and betrayal. “Is this what you ask me right after you kissed me?” she shrieked, causing Baekhyun to flinch. “You just had your tongue in my mouth and you dare to say a little girl’s name afterwards?”

Sooah wasn't wrong about you being a little girl. She was older by fourteen years after all; she saw you as a complete kid. Which made Sooah feel even more devastated and enraged; Baekhyun dated someone so incredibly young, half of her age. It made her feel like she couldn't compare.

“I’m not going to ask you any more. You got what you wanted. Get out of my flat if you don’t do anything useful,” replied Baekhuyn with a hard glare.

“She is delivering drugs,” snapped Sooah and Baekhyun was shocked to find tears in her eyes as she spoke. “That’s who she is now, Baekhyun. She is delivering illegal stuff on a scooter and she doesn’t even have a driving license.”

It felt like someone poured a scorching hot water over him. You and drugs? And you didn’t have a driving license while driving a vehicle? So many thoughts raced through his mind, so many questions left unanswered. What the hell were you up to? “And you know this how?”

Sooah shrugged. “None of your damn business.”

“It is if it involves Nari.”

Sooah scoffed mockingly. “Then sleep with me.”

“You need help, Sooah,” replied Baekhyun somehow compassionately after a moment of silence. Taking the singer’s arm in his, he turned her and opened the door so he could push her out to the corridor. “And immediately. You’re sick in your head. Treat your obsession and then we can still be friends maybe.”

“You’re a heartless bastard, Baekhyun,” whispered Sooah, not turning around. “You better watch out for the university festival. Your girlfriend will be my puppet.”

She started walking with purposeful steps towards the elevator, not looking back and not noticing the way Baekhyun’s face fell with dread.

But the girl had been hurt enough.

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A/N: thank you for reading! I had lots of fun with this chapter! Let me know your thoughts, there is so much happening over here >.<

Lyrics credit: McFly - That Girl

[xwasted-days]

𝖘𝖆𝖋𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 || 𝖇.𝖍.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

A/N: It’s probably been done before, but I wanted to throw together a little song-fic based on Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift ft. The Civil Wars. I’m sappy and I like sad things. Also, this is my first tumblr fic, pls be nice. Requests are open and I have no tag-list, because it’s a new blog. 

Work Count: 2, 276

Complete Story Warnings: Major Character Death, Pure Angst, 10/10 sad. Also, probably language. 

The battle of Starcourt was turning in favor of the party and all therein, but war was never without casualty. 

Billy Hargrove had a questionable character and reputation among most in Hawkins. People wanted him as a friend or a fuck, and those that didn’t wanted him gone. Few succeeded in ever knowing Billy as more than the sad little king of his sad little hill, and even fewer knew the plights he faced at home. A minimal two: Max, the step sister, and Y/N, the girlfriend, who rushed into the center of the mall behind Mike Wheeler, unable to help as Billy threw himself in El’s path. Y/N moved before her mind could register: scrambling forward when Billy caught the mindflayer’s clawed gullet in his hands. Those beautiful, calloused hands with the feather-soft touch. She took another step forward, faltering as a tentacle dug into his left side, the sickening crunch of torn flesh and splintering ribs echoing in the building silence. The second hit came and she rushed forward again, slipping on fragments of broken glass. Y/N’s knees hit the ground hard, the sharp sting barely registering as the hits kept coming, clawing all around his torso. He screamed each time, every cry cutting off in a strangled garble at the sharp shock of another tentacle landing its blows. Billy screamed, daring the monster on, and Y/N screamed, begging it all to stop. 

The final blow landed in the center of Billy’s chest, silencing him. Max’s scream sounded somewhere behind her. 

As the mindflayer pulled away, thrashing, snarling, wailing in defeat, Y/N ran forward, slipping in rapidly pooling blood as she pulled Billy to her chest. 

I remember tears streaming down your face, when I said, “I’ll never let you go.”

The words, even as they left Y/N’s lips, felt like the deepest and most real thing she’d expressed since the moment he was taken by the mindflayer. 

Since the darkness had fallen over Hawkins, she’d felt vacant, plastic, unreal. She supposed the notion came first when Barb had gone missing; when the trio of sub-popular girls was first fractured. Everything seemed to fall apart until Y/N found out what really happened to Barb, what was haunting Will Byers, and what hunted the people of Hawkins.  

Life was a ceaseless ebb and flow of highs and lows; still, she never expected the tide to pull away as it was now. Nothing could compare to this feeling: her boyfriend tucked in her arms, fading away before her, was what would cause the tidal wave to break. 

Cool and fragile, the rapid thundering of his heart beneath Y/N’s palm, the salt of crystalline tears sliding off his angled pale, cheek, his hand gripping her arm as he clung to waning life. Billy opened his mouth, hoping for any words to form. None did. He felt the pain with each blow, but as the creature yanked itself away and Billy fell, there was no sensation. Nothing but an icy numbness. After his mom left, Billy prayed for nothing more than to lose his feeling, and now it was gone he wanted it back. 

He wanted it back because he wanted to stay with her. He’d always known he was a selfish bastard, but this instance wasn’t for himself. It was for her; his Y/N. The only girl he gave a shit about for longer than one night at a time. And now, he was going to lose her. “..I-” he struggled again, shivering in her arms. 

When all those shadows almost killed your light

“Shh,” Y/N cooed, bringing her hand up to brush sweaty, blonde curls off of his forehead, ignoring the scene that played out around them. Billy was never meant to get caught in this crossfire; he was meant to be as he always was: cocky, stupid, young and reckless. Seated atop his lifeguard seat, staring out over the crowds of Hawkins Community Pool as a king surveyed his kingdom. Instead, he was out there, vulnerable to to the upside down, taken as so many others had been.

Y/N glanced down at the gaping, bloody hole that forced the pale colored fabric of the shirt at Billy’s chest to dip inward, the rich, viscous, and sickly stain making her stomach churn. She bit hard on the inside of her cheek, a meager attempt at staunching her tears as she played strong for Billy’s sake. She felt his hand at her arm give a squeeze, her attentions drawing back toward the boy in her lap. Y/E/C eyes connecting to Billy’s steely blue ones again, she offered a shaky smile, her thumb smoothing along the arch of his cheek. 

I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone…"

Billy’s voice was soft and hoarse, barely audible as the commotion of the party and the mindflayer fizzled on around them. The fair haired, beautiful boy Y/N had fallen so deeply for let out a soft grunt of protest at the ache, his body twitching involuntarily as pain coursed through him.

“Think you can get rid of me that easily, ya little shit?” Y/N asked with a gentle chuckle, keeping her shaky grin to ease Billy’s worry. Her tears flowed more freely now, slipping down her cheeks as she held him close. “Gotta try a whole helluva lot harder than that, Hargrove. You and me. California, remember?” 

The broken king of Hawkins High put on a woozy, pale-lipped smile and hiccupped on a sob, coughing after. A soft mist of blood peppered his lips and chin, staining his teeth crimson. California, their would-be paradise, far away from Indiana and all their worries. He’d sworn up and down that they would leave one day, go back to his home and flourish in ways unimaginable. His promise now seemed as broken as he was. He was fading. Y/N didn’t have enough time.

But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight.

The flutter of Billy’s heart was growing more and more faint, and the beats, which willed themselves with great difficulty, grew slower and slower in their efforts. 

Billy leaned his weight further into Y/N’s body, slack and woozy. All the coherency in his head fading. She had promised that wouldn’t leave, said she wouldn’t let go, but she had. Or hadn’t she? He could hardly tell, his vision fading in and out, gleams of purple and pink, the hazy sound of distant chatter. Billy felt his chest heave with a great gasp, and his jaw open and close with the effort of breath. It happened again, and again. He felt hands on his arms, squeezing, but he couldn’t register the effect of the sensation. He was cold, so cold. He wished so vehemently that he could ask Y/N what was going on, but Billy couldn’t seem to find his tongue. 

That’s a first, he thought, trying to squeeze back the person in his numbed fingers. Every bit of him was so cold, probably frozen from where he had been, lost in darkness with the delicate snowfall. He was sure another erratic breath would leave him in shards. His head lulled to the side, hardly-seeing eyes registering the plume of Y/H/C and a small streak of fiery red. He searched between them, hoping to register on either of the faces that peered down on him, but none came. He coughed, gagging on something oozing in his throat, feeling hands tighten and voices raise. 

Soft curls of blonde hair fell over her his forehead, even as Y/N pushed them away, shifting his weight so Billy’s head was more firmly pressed to her chest. He was growing more and more still, even as she and Max begged him to stay. The girl took a breath, fighting down the body-trembling sob that wedged in her throat. “Billy? Wake up, Billy, please?” She asked, watching a tear of her own fall down to slip against his cheek, rolling down onto his stubbled chin.

Billy took a deep, shuddering breath, so loud he scared himself. He'd forgotten to breathe, and the muted voices he heard in his haze kept him there. Her voice. The voice he listened to in the quiet solitude of a shared bedroom, or in the crowded halls of Hawkins High. The voice he grew to love before he could even remember what love felt like. The voice he wanted to hear for the rest of his life. 

He blinked, trying to clear the tears in his eyes, focusing on Y/N and Max hovering above him.

“....I’m sorry.” Billy shuddered as his eyes glossed over,  a sudden cloud overtaking his vision. The clarity of the world was fading into shapes, then shadows, and careening rapidly into darkness. There was a loud bang somewhere near him and had he retained the strength, he would have jumped. Another bang. And another. One, two. One, two. One. Two. One. Two, each pair of beats getting further and further apart. Billy breathed out, defeated, overcome by the realization that those noises were thuds of his heart stopping. He couldn't see, he couldn't feel, he couldn’t taste anything but the heavy black goop on his tongue, he could only smell the coppery, acrid stink of blood that clogged his sinuses. All that was left was hearing; Billy was caught listening to the terrible, awful rhythm of his once-small heart, stopping. He listened again, hoping to hear the voices, praying they would draw him out of it, but there was no sound. Nothing. Not even the beating of his heart. Just his remaining consciousness, slowly going black. Billy Hargrove was dead, he knew. He wanted to scream, to panic and cry, but nothing was there. 

He didn't see the light that everyone blathered about, he didn't feel the peace. He was the hollow, lifeless shell of a boy who could have been more than a lifeguard with an attitude problem. And he was dead. And he left her behind. 

His beautiful Y/N, whose voice and smiles and touches were forfeit to the darkness that consumed. 

Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire. The war outside our door keeps raging on. Hold onto this lullaby, even when the music's gone. 

Y/N  felt the final, sickening beat of Billy’s heart beneath her hand. Another tear fell onto Billy’s face, then another. And another. Max whispered, begging her step brother to wake, her small hands shaking his bloodied shoulders to no avail. A hard, broken, centuries old sob tore through Y/N’s chest and echoed through the mall; the cry of everyone who had lost someone they loved for good. The cry that begged death to return a loved one to the land of the living that always fell on deaf ears. 

“Billy, please,” she whimpered, trembling fingers soothing the lifeless skin of the boy she loved. Every thought, hope, wish, and dream connected to him was gone, dead as he was. 

Jagged orange patterns began to dance on the ground all around them, and offered the girl nothing but a ghastly illumination along her lost lover’s gaunt, pale face. It made him look hollow, as if no happiness, no mischief, no curiosity had once been lurking behind those coy, gorgeous eyelids. His once tanned, golden flesh was sickly and pale, the adonis within snuffed out forever. Y/N  snarled and sobbed hard, holding Billy closer, hiding him from the sickening yellowed light of the fire that grew.

She heard feet scramble around as the party gathered, their footfalls echoing like hard beat of the drums of war.

Villains never prevailed. Heroes never lived. No one was ever truly saved. Y/N’s shoulders caved and shook as she sobbed, broken and holding onto Billy’s body. Stifling a hiccup, she sighed sadly and started humming and rocking him back and forth; their song mumbled on tear-stained lips. She was chained to her place on the ground, lost. 

She didn’t see the others there, she couldn’t hear their words. She didn’t take notice when Max hid her face in El’s shoulder and sobbed for her lost brother.  

The world around her was crumbling into vacant nothingness and Y/N felt herself heave with another sob. She leaned back, her blood stained fingers gently brushing the infallible, pure flesh of Billy’s cold cheek, smoothing the tears she’d left there away with another broken whimper. “I love you…” She whispered longingly, her voice needy and raspy. 

A hand pressed to Y/N’s shoulder. It didn’t matter whose it was. It wasn’t his. And she hated that it pulled her back. The distant thrum of helicopters rattling in the skies, the sobs that left Max as she cried, the soft sniffles that sounded from El as she sat in mourning solidarity with her friend. Steve’s voice low as sirens began to wail in the streets. 

“Y/N. We gotta go,” Steve said, joined at her flank by Robin, whose thin hand came to rest on Y/N’s arm. She didn’t move. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t leave him. Another sob leaving her, Robin leaned forward to rest her head on Y/N’s shoulder, rubbing her arm gently as she could, tears flooding her own eyes as she looked across to Steve’s battered face. 

Harrington hated Hargrove with all he had, but he didn’t deserve this. Y/N didn’t deserve this. Nostrils quivering as he fought to keep strong, he gave Robin a solemn nod. Together, they helped place Billy on the ground where he fell and pull Y/N back, consoling her as she cried. 

Just close your eyes. The sun is going down You'll be alright.  No one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound.

[nikibogwater]

A Needlessly Intense Analysis of Hisirdoux Casperan

I’ve been religiously stalking the Tales of Arcadia tag since the day Wizards dropped, and I have not seen a single person utter so much as a pip of complaint in regards to Douxie as a character (and rightly so. The boy is a gift from the heavens sent to give us succor in these dark times AND IF YOU ARE MEAN TO HIM I WILL FIND YOU AND--). I’ve seen plenty of people who didn’t like the show in general, but interestingly enough, they all included something to the effect of “But Douxie was cool. I liked Douxie.” somewhere in their critiques. I’ve been running amuck in fandom culture for a long time now, and I don’t think I can impress upon you how utterly amazing it is for a character to be so completely and unanimously loved. 

This was originally going to be an outrageously long academic essay exploring the possible reasons why everybody loves Douxie so much (because I’m a sucker for intense character analysis), but after doing about one month of research and 2 hours worth of analyzing, I realized that the answer was pretty simple:

The biggest reason we love Douxie is because he loves. Unconditionally, and with his whole heart. Douxie takes a genuine, unselfish interest in the well-being of everyone he comes into contact with, not just the people he has established relationships with. Yes, we love his British flair, his brief moments of cockiness that somehow never come across as truly rude, his goth-esque character design, but those aren’t the parts of him that are universally appealing. I suspect that the reason we’re all so immensely fond of this magic lad simply boils down to the fact that he’s the kind of person who would be fond of us, immediately and without question, if he existed in the real world. That’s the short version of it. The long, slightly fangirly version was placed under the cut in order to avoid clogging your queue. Those of you with an uncanny interest in character analysis may keep reading, and the others may keep scrolling. I wish both kinds of people a very nice day. ❤

We get a really great first look at Douxie’s empathetic nature in Season 2, episode 8 of 3Below (”Luug’s Day Out”), and this is before he’s even been established as a main character. In this scene, Aja runs past him, very obviously in distress, calling for her lost “dog.” Douxie (who as far as we know has never actually met Aja) drops what he’s doing and investigates the situation. There’s no ulterior motive here, no established relationship in place that would motivate his concern for her, he just sees this distressed girl running down the street and immediately stops what he’s doing to check on her. He even looks genuinely apologetic when he tells her he’s on the clock and can’t leave the bookstore to help her look for Luug.

(image is cruddy because getting screenshots is a nightmare, but you get the idea). The fact that Douxie is genuinely concerned about Aja’s situation without even knowing her personally speaks to a deeply embedded sense of kindness that goes beyond your typical sense of duty, honor, or “it’s just the right thing to do.” 

Another great indicator of Douxie’s proclivity for unconditional love is the way he is uncommonly quick to show affection and emotional vulnerability. For example, look at his body language as he grabs Claire’s shoulders in episode 2 of Wizards (”History in the Making”) (again, cruddy image, I’m sorry, but it’s enough to serve my purpose here:)

He doesn’t have an intimate friendship with Claire yet at this point. Heck, they’ve barely been occupying the same space for more than an hour. But the moment he sees she’s in distress (and about to launch herself into trouble), he reaches out and gently takes her by the shoulder and the arm. Emphasis on the gently. Douxie isn’t only concerned with keeping her out of harm’s way (otherwise he would’ve just grabbed her by the arm). He wants to offer her real comfort. He’s placing himself between her and the source of her distress, making sure she can see his face (an indication of emotional openness), and speaking very calmly. (Fun fact, I am also a sucker for analyzing body language). And he does this constantly throughout the show. He reaches out to people, both emotionally and physically, regardless of how much or how little history they have between them. Because he wants to comfort and protect--not for any self-serving reasons, just for the sake of comforting and protecting. 

And don’t even get me started on how absolutely devastated he is when he discovers Jim is dying. Douxie doesn’t know Jim personally. Jim is just “The Trollhunter and the Best Tipper in Arcadia Oaks.” Beyond that, Douxie doesn’t have much of a relationship with Jim (I suspect that he did in the original draft, but Netflix is a filthy suppressor of artistic expression and only allowed for 10 episodes, so this is the canon we have to work with). And yet the news that going back to the future will result in Jim’s death visibly upsets him--and not in a distant “Oh no, this person is dying. That sucks” kind of way but in a “This person is dying. This person is dying. I have to find a way to fix this. I can’t let this happen” kind of way. Douxie’s near super-human sense of empathy is so incredibly endearing. We all know the frustration of wanting someone to understand and sympathize with our struggles, only to be met with confusion or indifference. The fact that Douxie cares so much so fast and is so ready to offer comfort and support is so amazingly appealing, it’s honestly a marvel that we don’t have even more Casperan Stans in the fandom than we already do.

So for those of you who sat through all of that, thank you for indulging me. And yes, it was originally going to be 5 times longer and very academic. But hopefully this is a good enough explanation for why my blog went completely off the rails and careening into nothing but various Love For Douxie posts. Would love for this to become something of a discussion (Maybe I’m completely wrong, and the reason you love Douxie all boils down to that dashing black hoodie and nothing else), but I’m aware that this is a very niche interest, and the fandom has been on the quiet side lately. Regardless, thank you again for listening to my blather, and remember to be kind and respectful out there. Make our boy Doux proud.

[beetlebitchywitch]

Zhuk (Mafia Beej!AU The Conglomerate) x F!Reader: Homecoming

Well my dears, it has been awhile. My first semester of grad school is about to come to a close and I feel bad that I haven’t written in so long. So, I decided to post a commission I wrote a WHILE ago for @yankyo, starring everyone’s favorite Russian mafia man, Zhuk. I hope you all enjoy it!

P.S. I usually tag these fics with beetlejuice stuff since these boys are based off of Beetlejuice and share traits with him and stuff, but if people think I shouldn’t, let me know. I wouldn’t wanna clog the tags with stuff people don’t want to see, but I wanna make sure the people that do wanna read it can find it easily. If anyone has any suggestions or anything, I’m all ears!

WARNING: NSFW. Rough sex, brat taming, anal sex, dirty talk, slight degradation/humiliation, aftercare. MINORS DNI 

The mirror reflected a devious picture come one warm, muggy, infuriatingly quiet night at the estate. Her gaze traveled up her reflection, starting at her feet clad in strappy black heels that she still managed to be short in despite their impressive height. Her legs looked absolutely incredible in her favorite pair of fishnet stockings, held in place by the garters connected to her lacy black panties that perfectly cupped her ass. Paired with a black leather chest harness that fully exposed her breasts and a matching collar adorned with silver chains that dripped luxuriously across her skin, she looked like every straight man with a pulse’s wet dream. She turned slowly, looking herself over carefully for any imperfections. If tonight was to go as she had planned it, she needed to be perfect, not for her husband, but for herself. 

Her husband. She couldn’t help but scowl as the memory of him leaving her for a business trip entered her mind, a curt kiss on the forehead the only goodbye she received from him before he was off, chattering away in Russian on his phone as if she didn’t exist. It was the third time that month that he’d left her to rush off to Europe on some important business he refused to tell her about, and tonight was the night he was due to arrive home. The others had kept her company, of course, but they all could tell how much his supposed disregard for her had gotten under her skin, and far be it from them to tell her how to feel. They did what they could, keeping her occupied and loved with time spent drowning in liquor and laughter, but they all knew that there was nothing they could do to replace the attention of Zhuk while he was away. But tonight...well, tonight that attention was going to be all for her. 

With a smirk, she turned away from the mirror, striding confidently out of her bedroom and down the empty hall. The others had retreated to their rooms for the night, knowing full well what hell would likely be unleashed upon them if they dared to interrupt her master plan. The only sound that accompanied her was the satisfying click of her stilettos on the stairs as she descended into the foyer, momentarily surprised that not even Bajo had snuck out of his room for a quick look at her all dolled up. Her thoughts were quickly dispelled at the sound of the magnificent front doors being unlocked, quickly swinging open to reveal none other than Zhuk...speaking rapidly on his cell phone in Russian. 

It took everything in her not to scream at the top of her lungs as he sped past the foyer and into the kitchen after only briefly meeting her gaze, not even sparing her a second glance as he barked unhappily in his native tongue. Whoever was on the other end must’ve been getting an earful, but Y/N simply couldn’t give two shits what they were being scolded for. Here she was, standing in the middle of the room with her fucking tits out, and her husband didn’t even notice, too wrapped up in his business like he always was. She could feel the frustrated tears building in her eyes, suddenly feeling utterly ridiculous for planning all of this in the first place if he wasn’t even going to care enough to spare her a passing glance. Before she could continue spiraling into self-pity, she heard a soft gasp from her left and looked up to see Zhuk, cell phone held loosely in hand and his mouth agape at the sight of her. If anything, his delayed reaction only served to anger her more, feelings of inadequacy and loneliness and sadness swirling around in her stomach as his gaze shamelessly raked up and down her body. 

“Moya zhena,” he sighed wistfully, pocketing his cell phone and taking a few steps closer to where she stood at the base of the stairs. “You are...could this all be for me?” At that, she scowled, crossing her arms in front of her chest. 

“It could’ve been,” she snapped, not even finding it in her to care when he flinched at her angry tone. “But you’ll probably just be too busy, right? Maybe I should book you another plane ticket back to Moscow, since you’ll just ignore me while you’re here anyway.” Zhuk paused, seemingly taking in everything she’d said and trying to determine what to do next, but the long silence made Y/N shift uncomfortably where she stood, suddenly feeling far too exposed as she used her hands to cover herself. 

“...Darling, where is this coming from?” he asked slowly, though she could hear him struggling to maintain his patience with her outburst. No, no, he didn’t get to be angry, because now it was her goddamn turn to be pissed at him and she wasn’t going to let him take that from her, not for a second. 

“What do you care?” she spat, reaching down to angrily undo her heels and slip out of them, tossing them carelessly to the side before covering herself up again. “Sooner or later, you’ll just be gone again, or you’ll come back and be too busy with your phone to notice your wife is in fucking lingerie, so do us both a favor and just get it over with now so I don’t have be disappointed again!” And with that, she spun on her heel and ran back up the stairs, ignoring the sound of his heavy footfall behind her as she rushed back to her room and slammed the door behind her, quickly locking it and sliding down the wood, sitting herself on the ground and trying to maintain her composure despite Zhuk quickly pounding on the door. 

“Y/N, let me in!” he demanded, trying to keep his voice as gentle as he could but goddammit, he was stressed and tired and this wasn’t what he was expecting to come home to, even if it was his fault for being so busy. . 

“Bite me!” she called back, not even caring how much trouble she’d likely land herself in for being so disrespectful. She was hurt, she was angry, and she didn’t give two flying fucks about him or his rules. She heard him snarl under his breath and smirked victoriously, suddenly growing more confident knowing that she could get under his skin. “Well, you could’ve, if you hadn’t been fucking blind.” 

“I will break down this door,” he growled, tugging aggressively at the doorknob to no avail. “You know damn well that your anger does not excuse bad behavior. Now be a good girl and let me in.” 

She was tempted, for a moment. Perhaps he’d apologize, hold her close, treat her right, the way he should’ve from the very beginning...but did she want to give in that easily? After all he put her through, didn’t he deserve to have to fight for what he wanted? Didn’t he deserve to wait as long as he made her wait? ...She couldn’t, could she? But hearing his frustrated muttering in Russian and his impatient pacing in front of her door...her decision was already made. She crawled away from the door to settle at the base of her bed, facing the door with her back against the edge of the mattress and slowly spreading her legs. Her fingers dipped below the waistband of her panties and down towards her pussy, and the hiss of pleasure she let out as she began to circle her clit got Zhuk quiet, his pacing coming to an abrupt halt.

“...What are you doing?” he asked, his voice hushed like the calm before a storm. She replied only with a soft moan. “Y/N, what are you doing?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she replied cheekily, her words cutting off with a soft gasp because fuck, this felt so good. She hadn’t let any of the others touch her while Zhuk was away, never finding herself quite in the mood for that kind of distraction, so it had been several days without this kind of touch and as badly as she wanted it from him, teasing him while he was helpless to stop her was simply sublime. 

“Think carefully now, dragotsennyy,” he growled, once again pawing uselessly at the door once more before pushing away from it with a frustrated snarl. “You can’t hide in there forever, and if you keep this up, I swear on the motherland that you will wish you were never born.” 

A shiver ran through her at the way he growled his threats at her, but the longer she got away with it, the more powerful she felt. There he was, an incredibly powerful demon that could break her in half with one hand if he wanted to, and he was at her mercy. The pleasure swirled together with the self-satisfaction to have her throwing her head back with laughter interspersed with pleasured gasps. 

“I already wish I was never born, that’s not much of a threat!” she retorted teasingly, letting one finger dip down to circle her entrance before pressing inside her. She moaned loudly, putting on as much of a show for her poor husband as she could. “Fuck, it feels so good! Don’t you wish it was you inside me, muzh? Oh well, too bad.” 

She quickly slipped another finger inside her, losing herself to the satisfaction of knowing that she was winning...she thought. But Zhuk was being strangely quiet. No pounding on the door, no jiggling the doorknob, not even a swear in Russian beneath his breath. It’s almost as if he’d left...but he wouldn't have. Not now, not again. She paused her ministrations, listening intently for any sign of hi-

CRASH. 

In an instant, she was lifted off of the floor, her husband’s hand wrapped firmly around her throat with her toes just barely scraping the ground. She gripped uselessly at his ironclad grip, struggling against him to no avail. His hair was a wild mixture of burning crimson and vibrant magenta, though his eyes were all anger, smoldering with an ire that was just ready to ignite. Her eyes traveled behind him, where she saw the remains of her door, hanging pathetically from its hinges. 

“I did tell you I would break down the door,” he said darkly. She couldn’t respond, not with his grip around her throat supporting her entire body weight- she gasped desperately for air when he dropped her to the floor, landing solidly on her knees at his feet. “Now...we’re going to try this again. Was this all for me, malen'kiy?” 

Y/N stared up at him defiantly, keeping her mouth firmly shut despite knowing that there was no way he’d let her get away with it. Indeed, it only took a few seconds of petulant silence for him to tangle his fingers tightly in her hair, tugging harshly and wrenching a yelp from her throat. 

“Fine,” he spat, using his free hand to quickly undo his belt and lower his zipper, freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear. “I’ll put your mouth to better use, then.” He let go of her hair, but far from showing her mercy, he instead thrust his fingers into her mouth, prying it open forcefully before guiding his cock past her lips, groaning with satisfaction as he pushed himself all the way down her throat, stopping only when her nose was nestled firmly against his groin. He held her there until her eyes began to tear, but she held firm, keeping herself from gagging despite the impressive length of him pushing so far into her throat that her neck bulged. Finally, after far too long, he pulled back, giving her only a moment to rest before picking up a brutal pace, fucking her face as if it were only a toy. The feeling of his cock repeatedly plunging down her throat sent her mind spinning, and despite the defiance she so desperately clung to, she could feel the comfortable weight of submission slowly beginning to settle over her. She held still like a good girl, keeping her teeth back and mouth as wide open as she could no matter how badly her jaw ached. The longer he fucked her face like this, the more desperately she desired to be his perfect girl, her brattiness momentarily seeping out of her in favor of obedience. She missed this. Below her anger was a longing that caused her to miss him so terribly that she ached, and even if he was punishing her for her misbehavior, at least he was here. At least she was his. And there it was, the pleasant fuzziness that came with her submission, just on the edges of her awareness as he clutched desperately at her hair and took her mouth with utter brutality. She would be lucky if her throat didn’t ache come tomorrow morning. 

“Kakaya khoroshaya shlyukha, berushchaya moy chlen,” he snarled, letting himself have only a few more seconds of her mouth before pulling out completely, still holding her by the hair while he frantically stroked his cock. “Mouth open, tongue out.” 

She obeyed, as if she had much of a choice, her tongue lolling out of her mouth and her eyes slipping shut as she waited for, there it was, the warm feeling of his cum sticking to her skin, some landing on her exposed tongue but also clinging to her lips and even the tip of her nose. Knowing better than to swallow without permission, she held herself still, opening her eyes to watch the tail end of his orgasm before meeting his gaze obediently, allowing him to enjoy the sight of her covered in his cum. And enjoy it he did, taking several seconds to paint a mental picture of his wife marked so perfectly before letting go over her hair and moving to remove his pants. “Clean yourself up,” he commanded almost carelessly. 

She obeyed immediately, swallowing what was already on her tongue before using her fingers to clean the rest from her face, swallowing it dutifully. As she came back to herself after such an intense experience, her desire for revenge mixed with her overwhelming need to submit to his control as well as oil and vinegar. She wanted him to take her until she didn’t even remember why she was angry, but she also wanted to send him packing for ruining her perfect plans, and she wasn’t sure which desire was stronger. 

“On the bed,” he commanded, striding over to toss any extra decorative pillows to the floor. Her opposing desires swirled angrily in her mind, but despite the fuzziness at the edges of her vision that so often came with her willing submission, she stayed put, staring defiantly down at the ground. When Zhuk realized she had no intention of moving, he strode over to her slowly, now fully nude and his cock already beginning to reharden. 

“Is this the game you would like to play tonight, moya zhena?” he asked, his voice heavy with the weight of his dominance. She shivered at his tone, but held her tongue, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her perfect obedience. “Because I have no problem with reminding you whose orders you’re meant to obey. Or have I left you alone so long that you’ve forgotten?” 

Her scowl only grew at the reminder that yes, he had left her alone too long, so this is exactly what he deserved. If he wanted her, he was going to have to be a big boy and take her. 

“Here are your options, dragotsennyy,” he said, almost too calmly. “You can obey me, as you are meant to, and climb willingly onto your bed. Or I could drag you up by the hair. Which will it be?”

Knowing this may be her last chance to speak, she lifted her head to smile petulantly at him, using every last ounce of brattiness left in her. 

“I’ll take what’s behind Door Number 2.” 

A man of his word, he fisted her hair with a snarl, showing no mercy as he dragged her up off the floor and onto her bed, paying no mind to her yelps of pain as he tossed her unceremoniously onto the mattress. He wasn’t far behind, pressing her down against the pillows and letting one hand trail tantalizingly down her body. 

“You dressed up so pretty for me, dorogoy,” he crooned in her ear, giving the lobe a nip. “It’s a shame you won’t get to wear this again.” 

Before she could even protest, he was on a rampage, tearing into her panties with a feral snarl and ripping them off her body with his teeth, setting the ruined garment aside to reveal her pussy, already dripping wet and ready for him. But he wasn’t done. He gripped tightly at her stockings, tearing them to shreds with inhuman strength and littering the bed with tiny scraps of fishnets. Deciding to show a sliver of mercy, he undid her harness rather than tear it off her and tossed it aside, leaving her completely bare and soaking wet for him. She grumbled under her breath knowing some of her favorite garments were ruined, but she couldn’t think about that, not when Zhuk was roughly wrenching her thighs apart and trailing his fingers between her folds, gathering her slick on the tips of his fingers with a hum. 

“Aww, and to think you acted so tough,” he mused, chuckling to himself when she shivered at his touch. “Would you like to see how wet you are for me, moya zhena?” 

Expecting his fingers, she balked when he reached for her ruined panties, having soaked them through from how wet she became from getting her face fucked. Zhuk balled them up and, not willing to wait for her to open her mouth, wrenched her lips open with two fingers pressing down on her tongue, quickly replacing them with her soiled panties and giving her a quick slap to her cheek for good measure, leaving behind a trail of her spit. She yelped around her panties, already tasting just how wet she’d become from the beginning of her punishment and blushing darkly at the shame of it all. Satisfied, Zhuk moved back down her body, pulling her thighs apart roughly to reveal her dripping pussy and sighing at the sight of it, aching for him to just slide inside of her. But...he had a better idea. 

“I don’t think I want to fuck such a slutty pussy,” he mused to himself, though it didn’t stop him from running his thumb between her folds and chuckling when she struggled to keep herself from whining in protest. “Aww, does my little brat want me inside her? Don’t fret, malenk’iy, you’ll still have me…” He trailed off, dragging his slick-soaked fingers up to circle the puckered rim of her ass. Realizing what he meant, she couldn’t stop herself from letting out a long, low moan, arching her ass up and grinding back against his teasing touch. Still, he kept it light, just barely circling her entrance with the tips of his fingers. “...but only if you beg.” 

Fuck. She growled under her breath in frustration, her panties already growing more soaked from her saliva. How did he expect her to beg with her panties in her mouth? Thinking about it for a moment, her cheeks grew red as she realized what he wanted, but...there was nothing that would keep her from having him inside her. 

“Please…” she whined, her words muffled as she struggled to speak around the lace filling her mouth. 

“What’s that? I can’t hear you, shlyuka.”

“Please, muzh, I want you…” 

“Louder!” 

“Please!” she yelled around her gag, blushing furiously at the sound of her muffled words. Still, it seemed to be enough for Zhuk, as he hummed in satisfaction to himself and quickly plunged one finger inside of her, hissing at the feeling of her tight walls clenching around him. She gasped loudly, trailing off to a reedy whine as she ground back on his finger, already desperate for more. He plunged his finger in and out of her before quickly adding another, spreading them apart to get her nice and stretched for him. A steady stream of whines and moans fell from her lips, muffled only slightly by her panties as the tips of his fingers stroked at her sensitive walls. When he thought she’d had enough, he pulled them out, cooing almost condescendingly at the way she whined in protest. 

“Patience, dorogoy,” he said almost mockingly, reaching into the bedside table to pull out a bottle of lube and quickly getting himself slicked up for her. “Or is my little slut truly that desperate for me?” 

She couldn’t deny it. That fuzziness on the fringe of her vision had grown, her submission fully settling over her enough that she was desperately needy for him. She would crawl on her hands and knees across the entire estate just to have his cock inside her. She settled down onto her elbows, making sure her ass was presented for him, and kept silent, not wanting to speak unless he truly asked her to. From now on, he was in control. 

“That’s what I thought,” he growled, quickly lining his cock up with her entrance. “Deep breath for me now, kotenok…” 

She inhaled deeply, and when he finally began to push inside of her, she released it with a desperate moan. Fuck, the stretch was perfect, his cock practically splitting her in half as he slid inside her without mercy, not stopping for a single second until he was fully hilted inside her, his hips pressed firmly up against her ass. 

“That’s it, there’s my good girl,” he hissed, struggling to keep himself still. He may have had to show her her place, but he still cared enough for her wellbeing not to start rutting her without giving her a moment to adjust. He leaned down, pressing the length of his chest to her back and whispering directly in her ear as he slowly began to move his hips. “This is what happens to naughty little brats who disobey. Do you understand?” 

“Yes,” she moaned around her gag, grinding back against his cock to encourage him to just take her. He gave in, starting up a quick, hard rhythm that had the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust, but God, it wasn’t enough. “Please, harder!”

“Ohhhh no,” he growled, keeping his pace just shy of where she desperately needed it to be. “I don’t reward bad behavior, shlyuka. You want it that badly? Then I better hear you say you’re sorry.” 

If he’d asked her to 20 minutes ago, he would’ve been met with stony silence, but now, he’d so expertly taken down her walls and sent her so deep into subspace that she couldn’t stop herself if she tried.

“I’m sorry!” she cried out, trying in vain to grind back harder against the cock that she needed so badly. “I’m sorry I was bad, I’m sorry I teased you, please, just-ah!” 

There it was. Hearing those magic words, Zhuk simply snarled and buried his face into her neck, finally reaching the pace she craved. Every thrust inside her was like heaven, every nerve in her body alight with pleasure as her husband growled obscenities into her ear, taking her like an animal in heat. This, this was what she needed all goddamn week. 

“There’s my good girl,” he moaned directly into her ear, tangling his fingers in her hair just to wrench her head back to expose her neck. “Are you going to cum for me?”

Desperately, she nodded, reaching down to circle her fingers around her clit. Immediately, Zhuk slapped her hand away, replacing it with his own and pulling desperate yet muffled cries from her lips. Fuck, so close, just a little more-

“Cum for me,” he growled. “Let me feel my good little slut cum around my cock.” 

That was it. Her body gave in to the command, her orgasm rushing over her like a wave of heat hitting every nerve in her body, a desperate scream wrenching from her throat as she trembled in his arms. Zhuk fucked her through it, grunting with each thrust before reaching his own climax, spilling into her with a quiet groan. Out of breath, shaky, and blissed out beyond belief, Y/N collapsed onto the mattress, barely even feeling when Zhuk pulled out of her, his cum rushing hotly down her pussy and onto the mattress. Ignoring it completely, he moved up to pull her into his arms, letting her rest against his broad chest. He doted on her as much as he could, guiding her soaked panties out of her mouth and tossing them aside before pressing a soft kiss to her lips and petting her hair, just wanting her to know that he was there. Slowly, she came back to herself, her eyes sliding open to see her husband smiling softly down at her. 

“Are you alright now, moya lyubov?” he asked softly. With a smile, she nodded, nuzzling into him lovingly. When he sighed almost despondently, she looked back up at him with concern, finding remorse shining in his eyes. “You were right. I’ve been neglecting you too much lately, and I promise you that I won’t be rushing off on a business trip any time soon. That didn’t give you an excuse to misbehave, but I’m sorry that I made you feel as if you had to act out to get my attention.” With a soft smile, Y/N leaned up to kiss his cheek, nuzzling against him before settling back on his chest.

“Apologize again to me in the morning,” she said, her words interrupted with a yawn. “I might’ve forgotten by then...” 

And with that, she drifted off to sleep, comforted by the fact that finally, finally, her husband was home. 

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Found

CW: Creepy whumper, noncon touch (nonsexual), ableist language, some violence at the end

TIMELINE: The summer before Chris begins attending college, shortly before Oliver Branch goes to trial for essentially accepting bribes for a Senate seat.

Tagging Chris’s crew:  @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @stxckfxck , @slaintetowhump, @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout, @doveotions

“You look familiar.”

The voice hasn’t changed at all in the past few years, maybe just gone a little deeper. The soft, slight southern drawl is still there, genteel rounded consonants, drawn out vowels. 

He still dreams about that voice. It still sends shivers down his spine, not all of them from fear.

“Is that who I think that is?”

Chris feels his heart start to pound under the fabric of his t-shirt, and he dips his head low, as though he hasn't heard, as though he won't be seen. 

It's been four years of therapy and building himself a whole new identity and learning to be a person again since the night he was rescued, but even still some traitorous impulse deep inside of Chris thrills at the sound of his Sir. 

He’d been scrolling through his phone, waiting for Jake to finish up inside the store. He’s just been out here reading about campus life, researching dorm room checklists, taking a deep breaths as they took step after step after step towards Chris being an independent adult and not a dependent rescue. 

He’d come out to soak up a little bit of the warm sunlight, feeling its heat soaking into his hair - strawberry blond at the roots, faded blue around the crown of his head, long enough to graze his shoulders with the deepest ocean teal only at the ends. He has it pulled back, caught just at the nape of his neck with a little clip to keep it out of his eyes.

He wishes, as he listens to the familiar sound of the same fine leather shoes stepping crisply along the pavement, that he’d left his hair loose so he could hide behind it now.

Don’t look at him. Don’t look up. Don’t don’t don’t don’t-

“Look at me, darlin’.”

Chris’s chin raises, his head turns. He’s not sure who makes the choice to do that - it doesn’t feel like he’s the one who controlled the movement. 

“There you are.” Sir’s face is just the same, he doesn’t even seem to have gained a new wrinkle, although four years and his slowly imploded political career might have put a bit more gray in the sandy hair. “It is you, isn’t it?” 

Chris texts something - he doesn’t even know what, he doesn’t dare look, only glances down long enough to make sure he’s sending his text to the right person before he slides the phone into his pocket. One hand moves to a bracelet he is always wearing on the other wrist, the cool metal hex nuts braided into thick black nylon, spinning them with his fingers in a nervous motion. 

He’s just fidgeting. It’s just fidgeting. Normal people fidget when they’re nervous, normal people do this, it’s normal to be nervous-

Nothing that happened to you is normal.

“Ah,” Sir says, in his thick oily voice, and reaches up to graze the backs of his knuckles down Chris’s cheek. Chris only stares at him, wide-eyed, feeling impossibly, horribly small. “Where is that voice I loved so much, darlin’? Did you finally learn how to keep your mouth shut?”

Chris jerks back and away from the touch, eyes narrowing. He wants to bite back, to say something, anything, in a strong voice but the words are stuck in his throat, his defiance is locked away.

It must be visible in his eyes, still, because something in Sir’s expression goes cold and his hand slides around to the back of Chris’s neck, a heavy warmth that presses there, like every time he’s ever used that same grip in the same place to push Chris down to his knees. “Careful,” Sir says, in a voice that exudes gentleness. “Careful what you think, beautiful boy.”

Chris’s stomach twists, lurches, flips with disgust. “Don’t-... don’t, don’t don’t-don’t call me that,” He says, and his voice is smaller than he wants it to be, as weak as he is and not as strong as he wants to be. 

“They haven’t fixed you at all,” Sir says, tsking, clicking tongue against the backs of his perfect white teeth. His thumb is rubbing up just where Chris’s hairline starts just behind his ear and he can’t stop shivering, can’t stop shaking at how awful it feels and how good. 

“I, I-I didn’t need… need fixed,” Chris manages, airy and trembling under Sir’s touch. His phone vibrates in his back pocket, but he doesn’t dare pick it up to check.

I’m going back I’m going back he’s going to take me back he’s going to take me way I’ll never see Jake again I’ll never see anyone ever again-

Chris’s eyes fill with tears and he has to sniff them back, only to hear Sir’s low, deep chuckle. He’s too close, he’s way too close, and Chris cringes back against the brick wall, letting Sir move into his space and Chris can’t remember any longer how to get him out of it.

“Of course you had to be fixed. Look at you, you’re an awful mess without me. Who let you get your ears pierced? Your new keeper?" Sir's touch moves to his earlobe, rubbing at the sensitive skin and the small black stud there with the rough pad of his thumb, and Chris knows he could - should - run, or fight, but all he can do is go still and stare straight ahead, sunlight glinting off the cars in the parking lot.

It’s a gorgeous day, and a terrible one.

Everything is wrong.

Two teenage girls shriek laughter as one chases the other towards a small brightly-colored green car. They have long legs, tanned skin and short denim shorts, tank tops that cling to narrow waists.

They’re beautiful and probably don’t know they’re beautiful. They’re living easy lives they don’t know are easy. They’ve probably never had to hide underneath someone’s desk listening to other people live lives they never get to touch, they haven’t had to be so silent and so still, perfect carved statue people.

What they want is not irrelevant.

What they want matters.

He wants to be running with them, wants to collapse into the seat of a car giggling and easy, wants to go back to feeling the sun warm his hair but instead - in this moment - all he feels is frozen.

"I did," Chris whispers, jealous of those girls and all the life they get to live that isn't silent, frozen fear of Sir. "I, I, I don't have a, a keeper now-"

"That's such an awful lie, darlin'." Sir steps closer. “You know how I feel about you lyin’ to me.” Chris wants to vomit all over his shoes, right here right now. The smell of Sir’s cologne is so thick it gets stuck in Chris's throat and steals his air.

Jake’s cologne is light and soft and barely-there, something he only smells when he’s up close or holding one of his shirts. Sir’s wafts through the air around him, steals it, poisons it. 

"It isn't." His lips barely move. “It… isn’t a lie… Sir.”

The words drip from his mouth. He thinks of a documentary he watched with Jake that talked about acid rain. Imagines the words that come slow and steady from his mouth wearing bark off of trees, leaving only the pale flesh like human skin underneath.

He imagines himself as a white birch tree, with Sir slowly stripping him bare, discarding the parts of himself he has built with sun and air and Jake and time. 

His bracelet isn’t helping. His fingers are frozen touching the metal bits, not spinning them, just stuck. His necklace, the lightweight silicone feather that he uses so often when he is happy, lays heavy and hateful somewhere near his sternum. He can’t think - every track is stalling, the trains have all derailed, the thoughts inside are lost in the fog and the debris. He can’t step away. There’s nowhere to run to.

He can’t move his hands. He can’t move his hands. He can’t move his hands. 

He can’t move.

Not until the game is over.

Not until he loses again.

"Oh, it is. We both know it’s a lie, darlin’. You’re simply too old to be of much use to me, now, but...” Sir breathes out through his nose and Chris flinches as the grip on his earlobe suddenly tightens and Sir pulls, like he’ll tear the stud out entirely, and Chris whines low in his throat at the flash, the spike of pain.

Sir stops immediately, but his oil-slick smile finds its way back to his face. 

A child is pushed out of the store behind them sitting in a shopping cart, crying, the little boy’s mother shushing him and telling him they’ll get chicken nuggets on the way home and Chris wonders if the shadowy half-formed mom who lives in his most painfully closed-off memories ever offered to get him a Happy Meal-

“-what you're made for. The question I'm asking is who are you made for now?"

“No one,” Chris whispers, lips barely moving. “I’m… not made… for anyone anymore.”

He hates having to speak like this again. He hates it. They tell him his words aren’t bad, at home, that’s fine to be who he is, to speak how he speaks, they tell him he’s fine and it’s okay, and he’s fine he’s fine he’s fine.

“Mmmn, not true.” Sir reaches up, undoes the clip at the nape of Chris’s neck, his hair falling free in a shining, soft curtain that can’t hide him, not here, not now. “Look at how long your hair is. How awful.”

Chris closes his eyes as Sir’s fingers graze his cheekbone, tuck a bit of the blue behind his ear, trail the shell of his ear and back down the side of his neck. Every touch is a lit match against his skin, every second burns inside and out.

“I like it like this,” Chris says, fucking pathetic attempt at defiance, at standing up for himself, but it’s all he can manage. 

“Oh, beautiful boy,” Sir says, affection thick and condescending clogging Chris’s ears and his thoughts, oil that buries him and burns in his lungs. “Who has ever cared one whit what you like?”

“I do,” Jake says from behind Sir, his voice strong and loud and everything Chris’s voice can’t be in the moment. Chris watches Sir’s eyes widen in surprise and feels his own heart leap. “I care a lot, actually, and you’re going to need to step the fuck away from him before I show you exactly how much I care.”

Sir’s hand drops, and Chris takes in a deep breath, gulps in air as quickly as he can, falling back against the store’s exterior behind him with one hand reaching up to grab onto the feather pendant, rubbing quickly at the ridges carved into the deep blue plastic, while his other hand reaches back to feel the rough texture of the brick wall, rubbing the pads of his fingers there, focusing on the sensation.

Breathe in. Tap. Breathe out. Tap. Rub feather. Breathe in. Tap. Breathe Out. Tap.

Breathe. Breathe. Move.

“The keeper, I presume,” Sir says, holding out his hand to shake with a sunny, smooth Made-for-TV smile. 

Jake’s eyes rake down to Sir’s hand and back up again, chips of cold blue narrowing as he slowly sets the shopping bags in his hands down. He seems taller than ever, now, in his simple sage-green t-shirt and jeans next to Sir’s fussy pastel polo shirt and slack. They’re two separate lives that Chris has lived under two different names, represented by two men staring each other down in perfect silence.

After a moment’s pause, Sir drops his hand.

“I’m not his keeper,” Jake says, keeping his voice even. “It doesn’t work that way, Governor.”

“Mmmn, not my title any longer,” Sir says, a touch regretfully. 

“Yeah, and good goddamn riddance. I hope the charges stick,” Jake says flatly. Chris has no idea what he’s talking about, but something in Sir’s face goes colder, thoughtful. Considering Jake, the way he used to consider Chris, like they are just boys under a microscope, seen on a cellular level by men like Sir, designed for nothing else. 

“For his sake, you had best hope they don’t,” Sir says, still smooth as silk, but the coldness lingers, trails around the edges. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” 

Sir only smiles. Chris isn’t sure what the game was, exactly, but he knows that Jake has just lost it. “Nothing, keeper. How much does my boy cost to feed these days, anyway? I see you’ve got quite the haul, there.” He gestures, a languid motion, towards the pile of plastic bags Jake set on the pavement in front of the store. 

“He’s not your boy,” Jake says, evenly. His eyes skip to Chris - there’s a question there but Chris can’t remember quite how to answer it. Or how to speak at all. He rubs his fingers over the feather, back and forth, pressing into the lines carved in there as hard as he can. The brick wall is rough, soothing as his fingers dance along it. 

Finger-twist-tap-tap-tap. Finger-twist-tap-tap-tap. Finger-twist-tap-

“Don’t tell me you’ve picked that up again,” Sir says. He sounds disgusted. Chris can’t stop himself from glancing up to see the look of derision worn openly on his face. “You were so well trained, too.”

“Trained?” Jake’s voice is a ghost of sound, but something crackles in the whisper.

Chris’s face flushes bright red. He pulls his hand away from the wall and drops the feather, crossing his arms in front of himself, shoulders hunched nearly to his chin. He looks up, finding Jake watching him with a twist of pain showing on his own face. 

Chris has disappointed Jake, he thinks, by not being able to be stronger than this.

He closes his eyes against a rush of tears, tries to push them back. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-

“You okay?” Jake asks, and there’s a hesitation, a word left unsaid. It occurs to Chris that Jake is trying not to say his name, while badly wanting to.

Chris just shakes his head, lips pressed together. If he tries to speak, he knows he’ll trip on all his words, and Sir will mock him for that, too. Instead he stays quiet, and still, and stares straight ahead. Just like he was trained to. Just like he used to.

Just like he did when Jake first met him. 

He’s not okay. He’s not, he’s not okay at all.

Help me.

His lips move to form the words but no sound comes out. Chris opens his eyes again to meet Jake’s, pleading with him. There aren’t any words, he can’t remember how to say them. There’s only the begging he can do without sound.

There’s only the way he can move his lips, all the fear catches the screaming and holds it inside the stillness.

Just like before.

Save me.

“That’s better,” Sir says, softy. “Now, beautiful boy, you just stay there being pretty while-”

“Oh, you can just go fuck yourself on like six rusty knives, you absolute son of a bitch-”

Jake throws the punch before either Chris or Sir can so much as react to the movement, and Chris flinches back with a cry when he sees Jake’s fist connect with Sir’s face, the look of open loathing he wears there as the man crumbles to the sidewalk.

Jake looks up, taking a deep breath. “Chris. Call Nat and tell her to bring the car. We need a fast ride home.”

Chris still can’t remember how to make the words happen out loud. There’s a static inside his head, too much it’s all too much, and he clutches onto the feather necklace at his chest, mouthing, why?

Jake knows the question he’s asking.

Jake gives him a half-cocked smile, closing his hand in a fist.

“Because I’m about to punch this asshole again.”

[c-c-cherry]

What's the most embarrassing thing each of the Bucci gang has done/has had happen to them?

Ok I took WAY too long on this but I loved this question so much and it was so fun coming up with these. Special thanks to my girl @jjadegreen for helping me!!

**This isn’t NSFW but I’d say its teen and up just because of some of the stuff talked about hehe**

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Mista

-Pre-canon Mista was a bit sick one night so Bruno made him stay home while they all went on this one mission

-So naturally he’s like “HELL YEAH HOME ALONE”

-Bruno forgets his wallet and had to come back a little while later to get it and walks in on him wearing the following:

One of Abbacchio’s signature goth dress robe thing

Like 12 of Bruno’s barrettes all sticking to the top of his head

Fugo’s tie

Narancia’s bandana

All while BLASTING K-Pop at full volume in the living room. And our man is INTO IT. This isn’t just some radio coincidence shit, he was SCREAMING the lyrics. He owns the CDs.

-Bucciarati LOSES IT. Mista has never been so mortified in his life and Bruno has never laughed so hard in his life.

-He promises not to tell the rest of the gang but tells him it’s officially blackmail material

-They never speak of it again but at Christmas Mista opens Bruno’s gift and it's a brand new K-pop CD and everyone thinks its just a gag gift but like

-He definitely listens to it later alone in his room

Bucciarati

Bruno Bucciarati does not get drunk for two main reasons:

He blacks out every time

He’s an absolute lightweight

-The last time Bruno got absolutely piss drunk, he was with Abbacchio and it wasn’t even funny. It was just surreal because Bucciarati never lets himself go to such an extent

-For whatever reason Bruno is like “hey I never drink we should go to the bar or something” after a successful mission

-Even though the legal age of drinking is technically 16 in Italy they leave “the kids” home to watch mean girls or some shit

-Mista tags along too because he’s worried Bruno will get drunk and spill about the unfortunate “K-pop incident”

-My man Bruno drank like two beers and was immediately GONE like he got up and got lost in the bar after way too many drinks and ran into a drag Queen with Abbacchio’s hair

-Said drag queen became Bruno Bucciarati’s new drinking buddy

-He stumbles over to the karaoke contest and gets onstage and grabs the shitty bar mic and screams “THIS GOES OUT TO LEONE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH MWUA TWO YEARS HONEY~” and Mista is just like 👁👄👁

-Because uhhh they have literally been together for two years but everyone in the gang just thinks its a weird on/off thing because they never talk about it

-He sings dancing queen because its by ABBA and both Leone and Mista are fucking screaming with laughter and Abbacchio is filming the entire goddamn thing

-He buys the entire bar drinks they all love him so much

-Afterwards Leone tries to get them home so he leaves them outside while he takes a piss and when he walks back out THEY ARE GONE.

-Mista thought it would be a perfect time for them to get tattoos because his fucking capo is drunk off his ass and there is no better time

-Mista gets these two giant smoking guns on his back and his ass is in SO MUCH PAIN afterward that he leaves Bruno alone while he’s picking out his tattoo to get ice cream

-When he comes back Bruno has a tattoo ON HIS LEFT FOOT THAT SAYS “Never don’t give up.” The tattoo people tried to correct him but he insisted

-Abba finds them and is just like “jesus god” and takes them all to a hotel because there is no way in hell he’s taking them back home like this

-The next morning Bruno remembers absolutely NOTHING and as the gang admires Mista’s giant tattoo they ask if Bruno got one too and he’s like “god no I’m not that irresponsible”

-As soon as they’re alone Abba’s like “you got one on the bottom of your foot” and you can just see the moment Bucciarati’s soul leaves his body

Fugo

-Ok so if y’all didn’t know Fugo literally canonically wears a thong

-This isn’t sexualizing him (also I am indeed a minor don’t harass me) it's just a fact of life. You do you Fugo.

-So he sneaks out of the house once in a while and goes shopping for them cause our man’s gotta live, you know?

-He pops in the underwear store one day and you wanna know who he fucking passes by in the lingerie section?

-Bruno fucking Bucciarati.

-Which isn’t exactly a surprise considering he’s wearing visible lingerie in his tiddy window outfit but like

-That’s like running into your dad at femboy hooters

-Much to his dismay, the man spots him immediately and there’s just this...awkward silence as Fugo is holding this shopping basket of underwear and Bruno is holding the raunchiest piece of clothing he’s ever seen in his life

-They never talk about it again. Fugo finds a different store.

Abbacchio

-The most mortifying moment Abbacchio can live to remember is the first time he told Bucciarati that he loved him

-Pre-canon, our man is NOT having a vibing time

-He gets absolutely wasted with while Bruno’s at his apartment

-He’s the most miserable drunk, so he’s just fucking sobbing and Bucci is sitting there trying to console him and Abbacchio just looks up at him with tears streaking down his face and says “I’m in love with you” and the look on Bruno’s face just makes him feel even more miserable

-The entire night he keeps blubbering about how much he loves him and how much he means to him and how beautiful he is and the entire time Bruno is doing that thing where he tries to cover his face with his hand because our man is mega FLUSTERED up in here

-When he wakes up he remembers EVERYTHING and he wished he didn’t because then maybe he would be able to say that he didn’t mean it

-Bruno is surprisingly just like “Did you really mean it?” and he can’t lie so he just tells the truth and he’s just nonchalantly like “me too”

-Bruno thinks it’ll be a nice wedding story and Abbacchio no longer wants to live on this planet

Narancia

-Mista and Narancia are vibing in the living room one night and Nara tells Mista to grab his gameboy from upstairs

-He says its under his pillow (or else Bruno will take it away every night hehe)

-But you wanna know what else is under Narancia’s pillow? His Diary. No, it’s not a journal or just a blank book, Mista finds a book titled DIARY.

-And the shit in there is priceless.

“Bucciarati is sooo cool. I tried cutting my hair like his, but it didn’t really work. I think I gotta wear this hat for the next couple weeks. Shit. Fuck. If someone takes it off, I’m so fucked.”

“I clogged up the toilet yesterday and was too scared to tell Abba, so I just flushed it again but then the water wouldn’t stop flooding everywhere so I used Aerosmith to explode the toilet and told Abba that it was a stand attack. He believed me. If ANYONE ever finds out, I’m dead.”

“HOLY SHIT. I swallowed a tide pod yesterday and freaked out so I made Giorno turn it into a grape in my stomach with his stand. I almost DIED. But I didn’t so I’m over it. If Giorno ever tells anyone, I’ll kill him.”

-Narancia realizes about ten minutes after Mista left that HOLY SHIT HIS DIARY

-he finds Mista three quarters way through it and gives him $50 not to tell anyone about it.

-The shame never leaves, though

Trish

-Jade gave me a cute headcanon that Trish’s mom was still only teaching her how to properly put on makeup before she died (it's not like there was youtube or anything to teach her either) so our girl Trish only knows the basics

-She puts on lip gloss and blush and mascara and stuff but she’s never even TOUCHED eyeliner and rarely puts on eyeshadow. She doesn’t even wear concealer most of the time (she honestly doesn’t even need to, her skin is baby soft smooth)

-So long story short she kind of misses her mom and remembers how her mom was going to teach her a smokey eye before she died and is determined to teach it to herself now

-So she pulls a little heist and snatches some of Abbacchio’s makeup while they’re all out doing stuff

-She was not prepared for how heavy this shit was. She was used to the lighter, more natural stuff but Abba’s makeup is EXTREME.

-All of his stuff is waterproof so it doesn’t wash off while he’s crying at 3am and it’s just this—dark, heavy stuff.

-She actually hasn’t used a thick, real tube of lipstick before, only those little gloss tubes with the stick because she has smaller lips so when she crouches over with a small makeup mirror in fear of anyone somehow walking in on her and smears Abbacchio’s thick, dark purple lipstick on her lips, she knew she was absolutely fucked. She has no idea how to do this shit, especially not with dark, heavy goth makeup

-The smokey eye does not work. It’s just smeared eyeshadow EVERYWHERE, it looks like she has two giant, awful, black eyes and her first attempt at eyeliner was just—unspeakably horrible

-She has no idea where to start so she just puts on way too much of absolutely everything and immediately regrets it the moment she looks at herself in the bathroom mirror

-Abba comes home early and immediately realizes that some of his makeup is gone and he knows it has to be Trish

-He walks upstairs to confront her but just hears loud, ugly sobbing coming from her room and bursts in only to find her desperately trying to wipe off layers of caked-on water-proof makeup and absolutely failing

-The two of them spend all night taking it off all while Trish is still crying teary apologies to him

-To add in some wholesome Dadbacchio, he teaches her how to properly put everything on the next day <3

Giorno

-Some people forget that as a 15 year old, Giorno sometimes has absolutely no impulse control

-So when Polnareff tells him that he’s the spitting image of his evil, murderous, vampire dad he’s immediately like “haha well I’m gonna go dye my hair now”

-Everyone had something to do that day/night so Giorno waltzes over to the nearest drug store and grabs one of those at-home dying kits (he got dark green cause he thought it would look cool with his new outfit)

-He gets home and has absolutely no idea what he’s doing so he just thinks it’ll work out somehow

-Soooo yeah he does NOT put it in properly at all, he just kind of takes the shit and slathers it all over his hair and doesn’t do his roots and doesn’t put it up and leaves it dripping down his back and stuff and his stupid ass FALLS ASLEEP with the hair dye in

-He wakes up and the sheets are this really awful light green colour but he doesn’t pay any mind to it

-He looks in the mirror and from the front it actually looks good and he gets all excited and decides to wash it out

-When he gets out of the shower it’s this awful disgusting light light ugly green and he almost cries. Almost.

-It looks like someone dunked him in that Nickelodeon slime and he looks at the package and it says the dye will stay in for at least 3 weeks and there aRE TEARY EYES

-He spends the next hour in the shower trying to wash it out. It does not wash out.

-Utterly defeated with his hair matted and donuts practically falling apart, he stumbles over to his room and tries to wash the sheets covered in slime-coloured hair dye which *surprise!!!* doesn’t wash out either!

-He must dispose of the evidence, but of COURSE they’re out of garbage bags so he shoves all the dye kit stuff and the sheets into a mafia body bag and chucks it by the garbage can outside without a single thought

-Which he SHOULD have had a single thought about it, because when they get home and Narancia spots the body bag he’s like “holy shit guys I think Giorno killed someone while we were out”

-So they all panically pop into the house and cautiously try to find Giorno. Fugo finally finds him pacing around his room in the dark and when he flicks on the lights HO-LY SHIT.

-Fugo obviously bursts out into laughter and Bruno books it up the stairs and also starts cackling and Narancia is like “OH MY GOD YOU KILLED SOMEONE LOOKING LIKE THAT?!” and Giorno has to explain to them that the body bag is filled with stained bedsheets (much to his embarrassment)

-Abbacchio takes so many pictures and Giorno is having a nervous breakdown because he cannot live with his hair looking like this

-Bruno makes Abba fix it the next morning and he loves every second of Giorno’s mortification

-The pictures Abbacchio took of that night are framed next to the pictures of Bruno’s wasted karaoke night in his room

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Thank you for the ask, anon!! I’m absolutely exhausted now haha so I’ll scroll through the rest of the asks when I wake up!!