#You can’t convince me she doesn’t deserve to win. I don’t care who doesn’t like her

[rodspace]

Chelsie did have some thoughts to target Makensy but keeping her close was the best decision she made in this game. People expecting her to cut MJ is delusional cause if she did during the Double it could’ve been Angela winning and she would immediate go after Chelsie and we all know it. I think she played smart like she’s been doing before. As long as she covers her bases with making Makensy still feel like she’s her closest ally who could take her to F2 and not let Rubina or Kimo throw her under the bus I think she should be fine this week. Besides Chelsie can pitch that Kimo was wanting Makensy up in the double so he’s a certified to MJ. People hate to see it that Chelsie could be thriving in this game because she made the right moves 🤷🏾‍♂️

[duskier]

I am a big family Soap truther but I feel like Gaz would have one too - SoapGaz fluff I just barfed out - 1.8k words!!!

One of the first things that bonds the two together- beyond being brothers in arms of the same rank, and living through actual hell on earth together saving each other's lives again and again- is that they are the only ones who will listen to each other yap about their families.

…

When Soap tries to boast about his twin nieces winning double horse riding awards to Ghost, Ghost politely stands still like he's listening. Soap knows Ghost well enough to see that he's mentally checked out, can see that his eyes are fixed somewhere far off. Soap knows how touchy of a subject family is for Ghost, so he learns quickly to give up any mention of it.

…

When Gaz tries to show Price a video of his oldest sister finding out she's gotten a full ride to her choice of grad school, his captain is a bit more blunt but still evasive. Just tells Gaz that he's busy, that he should show him later. But Soap hears delighted squeals and joyful yelling coming from Gaz's phone and suddenly he's beelining over.

"She graduated super high in her class, did a bunch of extra curricula, applied everywhere like mad but this- this one has been her dream since we were little."

Soap looms over Gaz's shoulder, a smile blooming on his face as Gaz restarts the video. It feels amazing to be listened to, but it makes Gaz's heart soar seeing Soap near in tears, misty eyed while he’s sharing in the joy. His eyes are... really pretty. Weird that Gaz was only noticing it then.

"She deserves it, I bet yer so proud... we ought to celebrate!"

And they do. Soap buys Gaz and himself a few rounds at their usual bar just off base that very night, and over the next few hours they detail everything about their families to each other. Soap pulled out his sketchbook and drew a little family tree then passed it over so Gaz could do the same thing, too. 

“Your sister sounds just like my uncle-”

“She looks just like my cousin’s ex girlfriend-”

“D’you think your mom would be able to stand my mom?”

“My sister is taller than your brother.”

“How many kids does that one have? …Five!?”

Pouring over instagram pages, pulling up texts, Gaz even messaged his mom to send him a specific photo of him and his siblings at his 6th birthday party. He can hardly get through telling Soap the story behind the photo without laughing so hard his ribs hurt, and Soap is suddenly feeling breathless when he realizes how lovely a sound it is to hear Gaz laugh. 

…

…Then when Gaz needs a date to his cousin’s wedding- he can’t just not go, he’s part of the groomsmen- he asks Soap to come. 

“Don’t make me go alone mate, besides there will be plenty of dancing and-and drinking and that pretty cousin of mine you liked! You already know all their names, so it makes sense I’d bring you over anyone else.” He’s serving the biggest, shiniest brown-eyed-puppy dog look of the century, and it works immediately. 

That’s how they end up on a flight together to a gorgeous beach resort. Soap doesn’t have a chance with that pretty cousin Gaz mentioned (unbeknownst to either of them it's because just about everyone in Gaz’s family is convinced the two Sergeants are dating.)

Gaz’s four sisters nearly knocking him on his ass as they all tackle him when he’s spotted in the hotel lobby, fighting to be the one to hug Gaz first. It is clear how much they all love each other, warm embraces and laughter ringing out in the lobby without a care. 

Them all welcoming Soap immediately with open arms, now fighting to be the first one to share the most embarrassing story about Gaz. (“Did he tell you about the time when he--” “I HAVE A LICENSE TO KILL, ZIP IT!!”) He’s immediately treated like a bonus-sibling, the youngest one (only 7 years old) wrinkling her nose at Soap’s mohawk from her spot in Gaz’s arms. His other two sisters grilling Soap on their brother’s job, hoping Soap had embarrassing stories about Gaz to tell them in turn. 

(Later the sisters gather together in their own hotel room to debrief- it was painfully obvious the two guys were crushing on each other- they knew what Gaz looked like when he was like that. They made a deal with one another to be nice to Gaz about it. Despite how easy it’d be. They then praised themselves for being such kind sisters to their brother, and shared sparkling apple cider over a Barbie movie.)

Soap watching Gaz walk down the sandy beach aisle as a groomsman, looking handsome as ever in the tux and silk pink bowtie the bride had chosen for the party. Gaz with a bridesmaid on his arm, pretty in pink, but the second they part his eyes find Soap sitting in the crowd. In a pretty deep blue suit that compliments his eyes, top two buttons of his white shirt undone. Gold chain to his cross glittering in the sunlight. 

The two admiring each other, and Gaz watches his grandmother sit down next to Soap. The Scot says something charming, undoubtedly a direct flirt, knowing that was the way to her heart. Her wrinkled hand clutching at her pearls jokingly, admonishing him as they fall naturally into conversation. 

Gaz passively wonders why it suddenly meant so much to him for his family to like Soap, how it sent a bolt through his heart to see him get on so easy with his grandmother especially. (He was always a grandma’s boy, even if he’d never admit it. He was her favorite grandson, though she’d never admit that, either.)

During the reception, when Gaz and Soap are smiling big dopey smiles at each other in the multicolored lights, dancing with their arms slung around each other in messy, drunken circles, Gaz’s parents watch on with satisfied smiles. 

“Our son has never looked happier, love. Just look at him, he’s glowing!” Gaz’s mother offers her champagne glass as a toast.

His father’s face wrinkles handsomely when he smiles back at his gorgeous wife. He clinks his glass with hers.

“Looks like he’s found himself a nice young man, darling. You did a good job.” 

“We did, love. We did.”

(Gaz and Soap end up going back to their hotel room and making out a little bit, but they don’t discuss it for a long while. They write it off as them being drunk and stumbling back to their room together, that they got confused or wires got crossed somehow.) 

…

Soap and Gaz realize their mistake of introducing their mothers to one another much too late. They become fast friends, video calling each other once a week over drinks to gossip about their families, talk about books they are reading, and boast about new recipes cooked. As much as the two men complain about it, they know the friendship is much deeper- the two women comfort each other when their kids are on mission. Finally, they each had another mom who could understand what they were going through.

…

When Soap’s grandpa gets sick and it's all hands on deck, every sibling and cousin and family friend coming home, Soap doesn’t even have to ask Gaz. He’s already got his bag packed and both of their paperwork filed for the time off. A warm supporting hand giving his shoulder a squeeze, offering the first bit of relief Soap has felt in weeks. 

By this point, Gaz was already known by half of Soap’s family online. They were able to just arrive at the MacTavish family home, roll up their sleeves, and get to work. No one knew that Grandpa Mactavish had been on such a rapid decline, the family home and property in general disrepair. 

Soap’s eldest sister was a carpenter. His middle sister was a homemaker. His youngest sister was a moody teenager. Together the three women pulled the most weight, directing the family into teams. Within a day, the house had been cleaned, the overgrown grass mowed, the dry rot on the outside of the home repaired, each dead lightbulb on the property replaced. 

Soap and Gaz filled the family home with the scent of spices and herbs as they cooked tirelessly. Enough to feed every hand that leant help, and then some so Grandpa Mactavish had plenty leftover. While they chopped and simmered and seasoned, Gaz listened to Soap reminisce about his memories in this home. Every Christmas when the family of nearly 30 all packed in together, every birthday or life milestone that was celebrated there. The wall of carved height trackers- from his great-grandfather to his littlest cousin. When Soap eventually breaks down crying, Gaz doesn’t think twice to pull him into a hug. 

He doesn’t move when Soap’s mother comes in and hugs Soap from behind- Gaz and Soap’s mother worked as a team to hold Soap together. 

…

Years later, when Soap finally blurts out the big question, eyes wide with fear as if Gaz would ever dream of saying no to his proposal, Gaz tackles his boyfriend- now fiancé- with such vigor they both get bruises from the tumble. They are laughing, blushing, ragging on each other for being so sappy even as they have happy tears forming in their eyes. 

The Garrick-Mactavish wedding is no small event. It's damn near the wedding of the century. 

Laswell and the rest of their 141 family runs the event like it's a military op. The Vaqueros join in too, friends from KorTac throwing in their hand as well. (Nicolai's main job is just keeping Price's blood pressure down.)

The reception itself was gorgeous, Gaz dressed in a warm white suit, looking like a dream with gold accents. Soap opposite him in a formal wear kilt fashion, his usually messy mohawk tamed back. The 141 made up the wedding party, plus each groom's own assortment of childhood friends or siblings. (The joint bachelor party the month prior was legendary, but the aftermath gave Laswell a headache. Something about a building getting blown up and/or burnt down. If asked, she wouldn't talk about it but excuse herself to get another drink.) When they kiss, confirming their lifetime bond now confirmed and witnessed by all of their loved ones, Soap dips Gaz, making the beautiful man laugh and hold onto his shoulders as cheers erupt around them. 

The reception and party and after party in total lasted three days. The two families now and forever intertwined‐ once separately large on their own- made a tree so huge they couldn't fit it on one page of Soap’s sketchbook anymore. (They just make a huge painting of it in their home- the home that houses the entire extended Garrick-Mactavish family every holiday until the happy, long-lived end of their days.)

[babydollmarauders]

THE GREAT WAR — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

part of the Midnights Fic List

summary: in which y/n sees a picture of Jack talking to a girl at a bar and her insecurities come to light. // the night y/n accuses Jack of cheating and they almost break up.

specific lyrics: “and maybe it’s the past that’s talking, screaming from the crypt. telling me to punish you for things you never did.” and “somewhere in the haze, got a sense i’ve been betrayed.” and “that was the night i nearly lost you. i really thought i’d lost you.”

warnings: past relationship trauma, mentions of cheating (but no actual cheating), not proofread.

my past relationships were a graveyard of toxicity. full of cheating exes, manipulation, and verbal abuse. i accepted the love i thought i deserved. i would stay with these guys for months or possibly longer before being convinced by my friends to break up with them. but the cycle came to an end when i met Jack.

he’s kind, caring, loyal, loving, and always made sure that i knew how much he appreciated me. maybe that’s why i had so much trust in him. it’s why i never felt the need to check his snap map and find out where he was, or file through his instagram dm’s to see if he was talking to other girls. it’s why i felt comfortable and content staying at home if he wanted to go out and celebrate a win with his team; like tonight.

but somewhere in the haze of love and admiration, i’ve got a sense that i’ve been led astray and possibly betrayed. maybe it’s my past sneaking up on me and placing doubts in my head, maybe it’s insecurities overtaking my mind. all i know is that in this moment, laying in our bed, time has frozen as i’m locked on a picture of him talking to a girl at a club. with the Devils winning their game tonight, he had told me he would be going out with a few of the guys to celebrate, even offered for me to come, but i had a migraine and i didn’t feel like partying tonight, so i had given him the go ahead to go without me. i trusted him, i figured he would go out and have some drinks and then come home and slip in bed with me. but with this picture posted five minutes ago by a fan account claiming he was spotted flirting in a club in Hoboken, all my worst fears have come to light.

logically, i know i shouldn’t jump to conclusions. that the account could be wrong and that i should trust my boyfriend more than to assume he would try and cheat on me. but i’m here, and they’re there. i have no idea what could’ve been happening, maybe they’re right. this girl is definitely prettier than me by a tenfold, i can’t even blame him. maybe she doesn’t have the relationship trauma that i do, maybe she’s better than me in every inconceivable way. i don’t know, but now he does.

turning off my phone and dropping it on my nightstand, i spend the next hour tossing and turning. my mind constantly drifting to where my boyfriend may be, what he might be doing. and when it passed twelve thirty and he still wasn’t home like he usually would be, i immediately jump to the conclusion that i was right. he cheated on me. all my previous boyfriends have, so why wouldn’t he? there’s something wrong with me. i’m not enough. i’m not worthy of one of the great loves. this is what i must come to accept.

it’s around one thirty in the morning when i finally hear the distant sound of the front door opening and closing, Jack’s footsteps quiet once he’s taken off his shoes and i know he’s tiptoeing in order to avoid waking me. but i’m already awake. which he discovers when he opens our bedroom door.

“hey, baby.” he gives me a soft smile, making his way over to press a kiss to my forehead. “what are you doing awake?”

his clothes aren’t disheveled like my previous lovers would’ve been after a rendezvous, and he doesn’t smell like perfume.

maybe she doesn’t wear perfume.

“who is she?” my voice is barely above a whisper, but he makes out what i said. his brows furrow in confusion, and i have to hand it to him, he does look genuinely confused.

“who?” he asks. i grab my phone, pulling the picture back up. shoving the device into his hands.

“her.”

“oh. i don’t know.” he shrugs, turning the phone off and placing it back on my nightstand. “she came up to me and said she was at the game. congratulated me on the win. why? do you know her?”

“no. i figured you did. the caption said you were flirting with her.” i shrug, trying to feign indifference. he huffs out a laugh, stripping down to change into his pajamas.

“flirting with her? i think i spoke about five words to her before i went back to the guys.” he tells me, pulling his pj pants on. his brows form a ‘v’ and he looks back at me. “wait- do you think i was cheating on you? or even trying to?”

i shrug, not giving him a proper response, and it only seems to frustrate him.

“what the hell, y/n?” his voice is a mix of anger and hurt.

“what?” i mumble.

“when have i ever given the impression that i want anyone else?” he asks.

“none of the others gave the impression.” i explain. “they just, did it.”

“well i’m not your exes, y/n/n. i’m not the self-centered assholes that you used to date.” his words are harsh, and finger pointing. sounding like he’s putting blame more on me for dating them in the first place than the actual guys who used me. “i thought we established that a long time ago.”

“all i know is i’ve been in this position before and they were lying.” i rise from the bed now, sick of feeling lower than him in more ways than one.

“so you think i’m lying? is that it?” he raises his voice, obviously not happy with my accusations.

he’s deflecting.

“i don’t know!” i yell back. “i don’t know anymore!”

“right.” his one worded response is spoken scarily calm, joined by a nod of his head. he wanders around the room, slipping a t-shirt on and grabbing clothes off of wire hangers from our closet, stuffing them in a duffle bag.

“what are you doing?” i ask him, frantic and nervous.

“i’m not staying here while you accuse me of things i haven’t done. i’m going to sleep at Nico’s.” he tells me.

“you’re just gonna leave?” he zips up the bag, walking out of our bedroom. i follow him down the hall like a shadow, attached to him.

“i don’t know how we’re gonna work if you can’t trust me.” he says, slipping his shoes back on. he grabs his keys from the hook and turns back to me. “i love you. but i can’t be with you if you’re not gonna at least try and trust me. you asked me who she was, i told you the truth, and you still can’t accept that someone might love you enough to choose you.”

i don’t even get to respond before he leaves, too frozen to form words. my lips are parted and i stand in the entryway for a good five minutes before the weight of what just happened finally falls on me. crumpling to the floor in a mess of sobs and useless pleas for him to come back. Nico’s apartment is only a couple floors above our own, he must already be there, so my words are worthless now.

this has never happened before. he was telling the truth and i couldn’t even believe him because i’m so broken by my previous experiences. i knew that he didn’t do anything. i knew that he loves me and he would never do anything to purposefully hurt me, but my past was screaming at me not to listen to him, not to believe him because we’ve seen this before. but i was right this time. not my past. me.

i’ve lost him. i lost him because i couldn’t believe that he would choose me over another girl.

it feels like years before i’m able to move myself to our bedroom, when in reality it was probably more like twenty minutes. in bed, curled into the fetal position with tears still streaming down my face, i’m unable to fall asleep once more. tossing and turning for the second time tonight, only this time, due to my own actions.

**

i’ve lost track of the time. the sun beams in through the open window blinds now, but i’ve yet to sleep. i ran out of tears hours ago, now just blankly staring at the wall as i replay the events of last night in my head for what must be the millionth time. my heart aches in my chest and my head hurts from all the crying and the lack of sleep.

i’m zoned out. apparently enough that i don’t hear the sound of the front door or the footsteps echoing through the apartment. i don’t notice the dip of the bed or someone else’s breathing. it isn’t until i feel an arm snake around my waist that i know Jack has returned. i jolt in surprise when his skin presses against mine, and i turn over to look at his face. he looks just as rough as i feel.

“you left.” i state, my voice raspy from disuse and the sobs i let out mere hours ago.

“and i came back.” he whispers, tucking an awry strand of hair behind my ear. “i just needed some time to think.”

“oh.”

“Nico helped me realize that i need to be patient. you’ve trusted me this long, and i can’t expect everything to be sunshine and rainbows. you’ve been through hell. you’re so strong for putting up with what you went through, and i can understand now why you might have some doubts. because, i’m not your exes, but you didn’t think they were who they were either. they led you to believe they were amazing people and then called you crazy for thinking they were with other women. but you weren’t. and i’m not them, but i need to let you figure that out on your own. you saw something and it triggered you, it made you think of your past. i should’ve been more understanding about that instead of blowing up at you.”

“no. i should’ve been more trusting. i know you, and i know you would never hurt me. i just had this voice in my head telling me that you were like them and in order to protect myself, i listened to it. but, you’re not like them, and i only ended up hurting us both. you’ve proven time and time again that you aren’t them. i just- i need to remember that. you’re so good to me, and you’re such an amazing guy, and i think i just thought you might be too good to be true, so i was searching for something wrong. but i’m sorry, Jack. i’m so sorry for not believing you.”

his lips press against mine, soft and slow, pouring all his love into a sweet and tender kiss. pulling away, he lays his forehead against mine.

“i love you. it’ll be a process; having to unlearn all your overly-defensive mechanisms. you were trying to protect yourself, and that’s understandable, but i’m never going to hurt you. at least, not on purpose. but, i’ll be here every step of the way until you realize just how important you are to me. i don’t need anyone else. i have you.” his voice is soft, his words spoken gently and yet confidently.

“i really thought i lost you.” i murmur, burying my head into his neck and i cling to him tightly, refusing to let him go again.

“never.”

-

[miss-tribulationperiwinkle]

Why I Hate Suffs.

Spoiler alert, but in the movie “10 Things I Hate About You”, Kat Stratford reads a poem in front of her class in which she mentions all the reasons why she hates a guy and at the end she says “But mostly, I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” And, well, that’s exactly why I hate Suffs.

I really tried hating Suffs. I live on the opposite side of the continent from the Music Box Theater. On the side where we consider ourselves “Americans” just by living on this land, even if we don’t live in the wealthiest country and where Christmas is spent wearing shorts and eating by the pool. Because of that, seeing Suffs this year was not an option for me. I love musical theater with every part of my being, but I’ve learnt that I have to ignore certain shows if I don’t want to spend months being sad because I can’t see them.

The problem was that I knew I was going to like Suffs, even if just a little. So my plan was to hate it instead. I believed every lie I read on the Internet about it that would help me with it. I ignored the cast album even when Spotify thought I should try listening to it. I didn’t even check the reviews when they came out because what would I do if they were good? 

Everything was going perfectly, I convinced myself that Suffs was the worst show on Broadway, the kind that deserves bad reviews and empty seats. But then, I watched the Tony awards and I saw Shaina Taub win her second Tony of the night and curiosity got to me. The following day, I listened to the Cast Album for the first time. 

Now, because I don’t live near Broadway, most of the knowledge I’ve gotten about shows comes from listening to cast albums. I’m one of those people who believe that music and lyrics are one of the most important parts of a musical. If they aren’t good, I don’t care if you put the Empire State Building on stage, I will not like the show. If you don’t make me feel something through words and sound, you won’t get my attention. 

The first song I listened to was “Let Mother Vote” and it got my attention. Then everything else came and I just knew I was screwed. There was no way I was going to hate that musical after listening to the full album. It was smart, it had different styles, and it spoke to me in a unique way. Now, I wish everyone was willing to listen to it speak to them.

Suffs doesn’t tell my story, it doesn’t even tell the story of my ancestors. But even so, it fills my body with an array of emotions and my eyes with tears every time I listen to it. It would have been great if it had been a boring, educational show about politics. I would have been able to hate it. But the thing is that it’s so much more than that. 

It’s a show that made me realize that women are not powerless like some people make us think we are. It’s convenient for them that we buy that lie, but it’s simply not true and Suffs proves it by showing the achievements of women who were deemed insane just because they wanted to be heard and seen. Women who not only believed in themselves, but also in collective power. They believed in having each other’s backs when the world turned theirs to them. Suffs showed me that we don’t have to be the same person, or think alike, to be able to fight for what is right. It showed me that even when we think we are alone, a woman next to us will hold up the sign and march with us. Women are powerful, especially when we are united. Especially when we decide to show the world that we are. 

I wish I’d been able to hate Suffs. If I had, I wouldn’t have cried on Friday learning the news that the show will be closing in January. I wouldn’t be so mad at people who believed lies and built their opinions on nothing and won’t give it a chance when it’s such a relevant show -even if that was my original plan. I wish I could yell in their faces and ask them to pay attention, because if there’s a musical that needs to be seen and heard by everyone, it’s this one. 

I recently saw a video of their cast album presentation and I cried seeing women from different generations there. That’s what Suffs is to me, a musical that’s not about being a certain age or from a certain historical time or from a specific country, it’s about being a woman. We know what that’s about, we know it’s not easy, but we are powerful, we are not alone and we have to keep marching for the ones that came before and the ones that will come, we can do it. I just love Suffs.

[cosmo-watches-movies]

Heartlands (2002)

Summary: A Road Movie about kind hearted Colin (Michael Sheen), who has his world turned upside down when his wife Sandra (Jane Robbins) runs away with a policeman. He sets out on his moped and starts the journey through the country to bring her back home.

No spoilers watch the movie This movie feels like a warm hug, a cozy blanket and hot cocoa on a crisp autumn day. It’s a delight. I’ll do things a bit different this time, I won’t go in too deep because I want as many people as possible to just experience this film. Because that is what it is, a experience. It has some very beautiful shots, great humor and very charming characters. And it takes it’s time when it needs to. One might say it’s a bit artsy but I like it for just that.

Okay maybe some spoilers there are a few things I’d like to talk about

Colin is THE Cinnamonroll, he doesn’t deserve any of Sandras bs, but it does provide the incentive for the journey of his life so it’s fine in the end.

I love how when Sandra tells Colins friends, that she will leave him for the Police Captain (JIm Carter), they are just as irritated as I am while watching. The worst part is, that the Captain proceeds to throw Colin off the Darts Team (they are set to compete in a turnament the following weekend) and with that he robs our poor guy of the two things he loves the most at the same time. WTF I’m mad, what an asshole do you have to be? And Sandra just tags along? What did Colin ever do to you? Poor man is sitting in his shop balling his eyes out, they just robbed him of everything that was important to him.

A good friend of Colin convinces him to follow the darts team to Blackpool to win Sandra back, and although at this point I would personally think "fuck her actually", he didn’t even have the chance to talk to her about this, so fair enough. What else should he do now, sit in his store and mope? This is the better option.

Enter beautiful shots of the english country and small towns coupled with folk music, I’ve never felt this comfy in my life. I can’t even imagine how this movie hits if you actually grew up in the UK.

This movie is beautiful

Colin's first overnight stop is at some kind of cottage Inn in the middle of nowhere. There he meets a lovely couple, who are the first people so far who treat him nicely. Or rather like a normal human being. Up to this point I noticed two things: First: Colin is framed by the movie like he is still a bit of a child inside. He’s not immature I think, but a bit naive, very quiet and a bit socially inept, like he hasn’t quite arrived in the real world yet. Second: Other characters in the film notice this and some tend to treat him a bit lesser because of that. Doesn’t hit close to home at all, noooo… Buuut our boy Colin doesn’t really care about that, he just does his thing and is his most sincere self, even if he’s still on the way to finding out who he really is and what he wants from his life. I love that for him.

Anyway the guy (from that couple) gives Colin a haircut and a new shirt so now he looks like a whole different person. (This visibly kicks his character developement journey off and I love that visual language, plus the haircut really suits him, dude did a really good job)

Cue a shot of Colin being sad, listening to a folk band playing in the Inn and my heart is melting this is movie is so precious.

I don't want to spoil what happens in one of the following scenes, my thoughts are confirmed, Colin is a kid and I love him for that.

Colin, I’d like you to please stop doing and saying things that make me go: “Ha, I do that!” Thank you very much.

I won’t go into much more detail from this point on I will just say he eventually gets to Blackpool, talks to Sandra and makes the best decision of his life. He really learned a lot about himself in those few days. The ending fills my heart with butterflies everytime.

A pure, lovely, gentle and genuine performance by Michael. I don’t know how, but his acting in this feels like a hug from a very good friend. It’s so warm and sincere. Of all the films and shows I’ve written about until now, this one is by far my favourite. This is the kind of movie you turn to when you're having a hard time and want to work through it.

If you can, watch it in autumn. With a nice cuddly blanket, a person you love and a nice tea or hot cocoa. But however you do it, if there is one film from my blog you should watch, it's this one!

PS: If you should ever have the chance to meet Michael Sheen in person, please tell him a random guy called Cosmo on the internet loved this movie very much and would like to thank him for this extraordinary genuine and heartfelt performance. This film will stay with me for a long time <3

[misguidedasgardian]

What I was promised

Pairing: Soldier boy x Sup!Fem!Reader

Summary: The deal was simple, he kills Homelander, and Butcher gives him greenlight to fulfill his dream of having a family, you were just… collateral damage, another sup taken care off if you ask Butcher.

Warnings: SPOILERS OF THE BOYS SEASON 3 CHAPTERS 7 & 8.

Cursing, Dub-con, involuntary imprisonment, unprotected sex (do I have to remind you to not have a party without a party hat?), breeding kink, housewife kink, cursing, dirty talking, the works and everything fun related to this guy 

Wordcount: 3.7k

Notes: Oh I really wanted to write about this hot sup and honestly? his talk about wanting kids just triggered me 

This is it, the final fight. Butcher and Soldier Boy were getting ready to storm the tower, the final battle against Homelander where they knew they were going to win. Sharing stories about their childhoods and their crappy dads.

“I always wanted them, kids I mean, I've always thought I could do a better job than my father ever did” Butcher saw the plan he carefully and dangerously crafted crumble into pieces in front of his eyes

“Homelander is not your son” he said carefully

“He is the only thing I have”

“You can have more kids” he said then, “I know you like old bags, but you can still choose a young one, I don’t care, but he… has to go” Ben looked at him with with furrowed brow

“The young girls these days don’t want to form families, that’s what that cum-eating little shit told me”

“Well, yeah but you are a handsome devil, I know you can figure it out” he uttered hopefully

“Well, yeah, homelander is a piece of shit anyways, so fuck him” Butcher signed relieved

“That my boy”

“I could convince that girl to give me a couple of babies, I mean, she is sweet like that”

“Who?”

“The sweet one… the one on your team, the one with the telekinesis thing”

“(Y/N)?” he asked, it was Butcher´s turn to frown, “I don’t think she is your speed”

“I’ll make her my speed” he said firmly, and that’s when they both look at eachother, definitely

“That’s not how we do things with the ladies” he said carefully, “We ain’t in the 40’s no more” he growled. Ben only smirked

“So now you are telling me I can’t have her either?” 

“Only if she wants to” he reminded him 

“Turn a blind eye, convince everyone we are dead, and I'll waste my own son for you” 

“They are going to hate me if they found out I gave her to you like some sort of stuffed animal in a carnival”

“That’s the part where you convince them we are dead” he said simply, “You want me to fry Homelander? My own son? You’ll let me take her” Butcher looked at him

“But she can never tell anyone what happened” he warned 

“I’ll take care of that” he said simply, “You just think there is going to be one less Sup you need to worry about” 

“Good riddance then”

“You two are sick” Maeve muttered, and they both froze when they saw the redhead standing in the doorway of the room

“Oh, we getting sentimental love?” mocked Butcher, “She is just going to be collateral damage, we kill the bastard, whatever it takes” 

“And what are you going to do to her you sick fuck?” she asked then 

“You don’t worry your little head about that” muttered Butcher

“She doesn’t deserve this, she is actually a decent person”

“You heard the man, he won’t waste Homelander if we don’t let him take her, so that’s it” Maeve went quiet, sharing dirty looks with Soldier Boy, the man just smiled

“I’m not gonna hurt her” he said simply, “I’m just gonna turn her into what any decent girl should be, make an honest woman out of her” 

“This is so wrong” she whispered, but said nothing more as the three prepared to storm the tower

“They already have a huge startpoint” muttered Hughie

“We still have to try”, said Annie decisively 

“Agree” you muttered, looking up at Frenchie, Kimiko and MM, “we all know what we are up against, right?”

“Soldier Boy and Homelander won’t walk out of that tower” muttered MM, “whatever it takes”

“Whatever it takes” you all agreed

The plan was simple, Frenchie and Kimiko would go for the nerve gas to stop Soldier Boy while you all gained time and try to stop them. Hughie was to the control room to warn everyone as you and Annie ran in front of MM to protect him of whatever lies in front of you through the halls of Vought tower 

But when you got to them… it was already late. You couldn’t even walk through the doors of the news study when a huge blast threw you backwards. You flew through the air feeling as the air was punched out of your lungs and you collapse against a marble pillar, losing all consciousness 

. . .

When you came to your senses again, your head weighed a ton, and you had to make a huge effort to open your eyes. You took in the room, you were laid on a King size bed, and the room looked cozy, with a fireplace and all, a little outdated, like from the 80’s, but it was a very comfortable looking room. You took your hands towards your face and they both looked fine, you drew out your push wave and it still worked, your powers were ok, not fried out

“Oh good, I was scared I fried your powers” you grunted a little more when you recognized the men behind the words, “I wouldn't want you to lose them”

“Ben?” you called, finding him entering the room you were in, he smiled when he heard you calling him that, this is exactly what he wanted from you, his real name being moaned from those lips he liked so much, “What happened?” you murmured, “You used the radiation against us?” you seemed hurt, you sounded scared, and he didn't like that

“You tried to stop us from smoking Homelander” he explained simply, not denying it 

“Is everyone else ok?” you asked, “Annie and MM? Frenchie and Kimiko?” he sigh loudly, impatient, not wanting to have to explain to you, he didn’t care about them, he cared about you

“I don’t know, they were breathing when I left”

“You fried us up” you frowned your pretty little face and he didn’t understand why this was so hard for you to understand. Your eyes stopped at the TV, which was broadcasting the lastest news… Homelander was DEAD

“WHAT?” you said urgently, seeing the entire Vought tower completely destroyed, “What the fuck hapened?”

“Sweet things like you don’t talk like that” he whispered with that husky voice of his

“Ben… what happened?” you asked, softly, to appease him

“I complied with my part of the deal, I wasted Homelander” even if he clearly won, he looked defeated, “Homelander, what kind of shitty name that is anyways?” Even though this is what you all wanted, it felt wrong to celebrate the death of a human being, even though it was a Supe-supremacist psychotic piece of shit like him, still… celebrating a man’s death wasn’t right

“Is everyone ok?”

“I think so, I really didn’t care, I only cared about you” you felt your cheeks flush at his words and then he flashed you a poster boy smile. To distract yourself, you looked around. If the outside was any indication, you seemed to be in some sort of cabin

“Ben?” you asked, suddenly scared, your super hearing wouldn’t let you hear anything else but his breathing and the birds outside chirping, no cars, no other people, nothing. He raised from his seat on a small sofa and sat right next to you on the bed. His closeness made you uncomfortable

“Yes, sweet thing?” he purred, and you understand why he got laid everywhere he went, he had to only speak with that thick voice and all the panties in the room would drop

“Where are we?” Softly and gently was the way to go with him, you looked into his beautiful green eyes looking for the truth and the truth only, he smiled softly and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ea, the contact of his gloved hands made you trembled in your spot

“We are in a cabin Legend gifted me after our first gig together, the old thing is still standing” 

“But why? Where are the others?”

“Around, why do you care so much?” he asked, annoyed, “I’m here” 

“But you had a huge fight, and Homelander is finally dead, and I… he was the most powerful man alive, I mean, I just want to know…”

“Everyone is ok” he said with a sigh, probably the others were covering your tracks, I mean, you just wasted Homelander and Vought probably had tapes about all of you doing so… so now you were fugitives again, and you had to lay low, if the other were ok it was all going to be fine. 

“Except for Noir, Homelander got to him before I could”

“Noir is also dead?” you asked, feeling bad for the ninja, you actually like him and your time in the tower and the times you spent with him had been very pleasant. But to Soldier Boy not too much since he was your worry his face turned in anger

“He was a traitor who gave me away to the Russians” he growled, “He is lucky Homelander got to him and not me”

“I’m sorry for what he did to you, but to me he was always… polite” you whispered 

“Let’s just not talk about that traitor fucker, a walking tumor” his tone made you frightful, so you just looked down scaping his gaze

“I’m sorry you had to be the one to kill Homelander” you muttered, “Hughie told us, that he was…”

“My own son” you looked back at him and it scared you he didn’t seem remorseful, or that he didn't show any emotion at all, “I didn’t get to raise him, he was a weak little pussy”

“I'm sorry about that” you whispered, “He wasn’t a good person”

“It doesn’t matter, I have a second chance” he muttered, he leaned in and before you could stop him he trapped your lips with his. He kisses you slowly. At first you are so impressed you couldn’t react until he tried to pry your lips open with his tongue. You pushed him but accidentally used your powers. Even when it barely move him, not being able to throw him off the bed 

“You are a little firecracker, did you know that?” he asked, amused by your outburst

“No” you whispered, he leaned in again to kiss you roughly, and you felt limb against his arms and chest as you return the kiss

He might be traumatized, he might have been an asshole, but he was hot as hell. He was one of the most handsome guy you had ever met and in a fraction of a second you thought about even if you fuck him, it wouldn’t mean anything but a good time, he was going to pretend nothing happened by tomorrow, so what’s the harm?

His hand went to encase your face against him, and you in turn grabbed his chestnut hair, playing with it with your fingers. His hands soon left your face to go down your neck to squeeze your breasts, as he groaned, pleased against your mouth

“Fuck” he whispered when he left your mouth to drop open mouth kissed down your chin and then devouring your neck, “You are a little slut, aren’t you?”

“No” you whispered, “I just want to fuck you” you said simply, your hands travelling down his body and then up against agains’t his skin until you reached his chest. He chuckled, his husky voice made your panties more wet if that was even possible. He slowly eased you down against the mattress, while he got rid of the blankets that were still covering you, so he could lay next to you. He was wearing some cotton pants and a simple shirt, and even though it would be to even hotter to fuck him while he was wearing his suit, this worked just fine. 

You moaned, losing all shame when he sucked on a special spot in your neck, and you spread your legs instinctively. You barely realized you weren’t wearing your super suit, you were wearing a plain t-shirt and cotton leggings just like him, which he ripped from your quivering body when he realized you had spread your legs for him 

He wastes no time in trapping you under him once he gets rid of your underwear. He opened up your thighs, your sex exposed to him, admiring your wet pussy. You wanted to be even so you, in turn, ripped to shreds his clothes as well, and to your surprise, his ock jumped free, missing the underwear

“God I love the new age” he purred, you squeezed his thick cock, moaning when you couldn’t completely wrap your hand around his thick range, he was going to rip you apart if he wasn’t careful, which you were sure he wasn’t going to be. His thick finger danced teasingly trough your folds, testing you, tasting how wet you were, because you were dripping for him

“I’ve never been the one much for foreplay” he murmured, you just nodded, wanting him inside you, “Hell, we have time later for some pussy tasting” the tip of his cock replaced his fingers, and you opened more your legs for him to be able to place himself comfortably between your legs, as he started to open you up with his thick cock. 

“Oh shit” you cursed, closing your eyes, your hands laced under your knee to keep your legs open for him. The stretch burned, but if felt so good you could kill him if he ever stopped. 

In a rough push he was completely seated inside of you, making you groan, uncomfortable because of his huge size, needing time to get accustomed to him, but fuck, you had never felt so full, and he touched all the right places inside of you, places you didn’t thik even existed

“Fuck you are tight” he cursed under his breath

“You are too big” you complained, but he only smiled, retrieving himself and then pushing into you roughly, the tip of his cock touching your cervix, making you scream in surprise

“Are you ok?” he smirked, and you just nodded, playfully grabbing his ass, encouraging to start thrusting into you, which he did. Soon he started at a rough pace, the mattress making you bounce off the force. 

You grabbed him by the back of his neck and drew him towards you to kiss him deeply. He chuckled darkly against your mouth when he read your intentions

“You are a sweet girl who likes to make sweet lovin’ aren’t you?” you nodded shamefully, like it was a bad thing, but he looked down at you with a glimmer in his eyes that made you rethink everything you knew about him. 

His thrusts where deep and calculating, almost methodical as he kept pounding into you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix every time

“Shit!” you cursed as your eyes turned to the back of your head from the pleasure, the knot in your belly kept getting tighter and tighter 

“Fuck I feel your little pussy fisting my cock” he purred against you temple. With a wide smile, and using all the force you had, you managed to switch positions, getting him under you, much to his surprised when you placed your hands in his chest and started moving your hips teasingly, finding the perfect angle his cock would touch that sweet spot inside of you, oh and when you did, plus him grabbing your tits and squeezing them, made you cum so hard your thighs trembled at his sides. He grabbed your hips, taking control again and he started moving you roughly on top of him. You navigated your orgasm that lasted longer that you could handle, making you wanted to faint on top of the superhero

“Did you make yourself cum on my fat cock?” he mocked thrusting his hips up to meet you, making such a sloppy sound it was straight up filthy. “Answer me” he demanded, spanking your ass

“Yes I made myself cum on your cock” you confessed full of shame. Oh and you prayed the others weren’t at earshot, this was going to be very hard to explain

“Fuck, you are so tight you are going to make me cum” he admitted, fucking you even roughly, grabbing the globes of your ass, making you bounce up and down his cock for his pelasure, chasing his clímax 

What he didn’t expect was to draw another orgasm from you while he pumped you full of his come. Secretly, he hopes it sticks the very first time, as he made sure to press you against him for his cum to reach your womb if it had to 

He cum inside you, you felt it deep in your womb and you whined, feeling so good and warm. You weren’t on any birth control, but you guessed you could buy some plan b tomorrow, and slapped yourself mentally for being so careless

“That was one of the bst fucks of my life” you looked at him like he had three heads at his admission.

“Good to know, I thought you were some sort of manwhore” you giggled, and he laughed heartily 

“I am” he admitted, caressing your hips, while you were still on top of him

“It’s ok if I cuddle?” you asked dumbly, you liked to cuddle but you weren’t sure he wanted that, and if the others were going to come back soon 

“Of course sweetheart” he said with a chuckle, as he trapped you down his arm and against his chest sliding his softening cock off of you, making you whimper in the process. 

You relaxed cuddling into him, you laid against Ben’s chest, caressing his soft skin. He chuckled when he heard you purr, content against him.

“Aren’t you a sweet one?” he chuckled, caressing your naked shoulder and down your back, “you are a powerful superhero, and a mynx in the sack” he laughed, and you giggled against his skin, “Fuck I like those powers of yours too, I really hope our kids will inherit them”

“Our kids?” you asked, curious, raising your head to look at him, “what do you mean?” If he was him flirting he sucked at it

“The kids we are going to have together silly girl” you would have laughed at his poor attempt at flirting if you didn’t believe it was real. You wanted to cry

“Ben… where are we?” you asked again, a single tear falling down your eye

“I told you, my cabin”

“The others are not around, are they?” you wanted to climb out of bed, but he grabbed you and made you stick to him with a grunt

“We were having such a good time sweetheart, don’t ruin it” his voice was calm but he hid a threat in them, so you stood still against him again. “In exchange of me killing my own son, Butcher promised me he wasn’t going to get in the way of me taking you for myself”

“No” you cried, “He is an asshole of massive proportions but he wouldn’t do that” you muttered, “Besides the rest of them, the boys wouldn't…”

“They think we are dead” he said simply, “I had to destroy the entire tower to make sure our story sticked” you whimpered in fear, knowing perfectly well you would never be able to fight him off

“Why me?” you asked then 

“Who better than you to give the kids I always wanted?” he asked in return, and you whimpered some more as bitter tear ran down your cheeks and to his chest 

“We’d be terrible parents” you cried

“That’s not true” he said, angry, “You are sweet, and good and hot as hell, I mean, look at that ass” you whimpered some more, maybe referring to him.

“I will raise them right, like strong men',' and with his iron grip around you you just managed to curl more into yourself. 

2 years later…

Your husband, Ben, sat at the head of the table with your one year old bouncing on his leg. The baby, your son, giggled and showed him his one tooth he had to his father proudly as he smiled. That made your heart swell. It’s been a rough couple of years and you understood that what lies ahead, meaning the fact of raising your kids with Soldier Boy, was going to be challenging to say the least, but one thing you understood after so many times you tried to call someone or get help, there was no getting rid of him, so you had to stick around, you couldn’t leave your children, specially with HIM

“He is a handsome little devil, isn’t he?” he admired. Your son, Henry, he was big for his age, and chubby, healthy and strong like his father, who looked at you when you put the dinner right in front of him. He smiled at you and placed his hand on your 8 month baby bump. He wasted no time in putting another baby inside of you as soon as you recuperated from having the first one… And he was going to do it again…

“We make cute babies” you offered with a smile

“And strong ones as well” he said proudly, “These little shits are going to rule the world some day” he muttered. He rose his son in his arms and cuddle him against his chest, sometimes you wondered if he was going to be a good role model when he grows, you then look down at your belly, praying that it was a boy as well, you knew how old school he was, but you also thought a girl would melt his cold heart.

Your son hid his chubby face on his father´s neck, and that made you believe everything was going to be fine. 

A small continuation... here

Tag list!💕 @black-repunzel99

[writethelifeyouwant]

Always With The Scissors

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader / Dean Winchester x Reader / Sam x Dean Rating: 18+ Tags: sloppy seconds, voyeurism, angst, objectification of women, slut shaming, dirty talk, cum play, pining!Dean Word Count: 2.9k  Created for: @spnkinkbingo​ - Objectification | @negans-lucille-tblr​ - Man Crush Monday: Sam and Dean / Two for Tuesdays: Smangst / Sinful Sunday: Sloppy Seconds  A/N: Super big congratulations of 7,000 followers!! You deserve every single one and many many more ❤️

Dean has a very specific kink. He knows it makes him sound a little creepy... okay, a lot creepy – okay, he is actually a full-on creep – but he never cums harder than he does when he's inside a girl his little brother's just fucked. And it’s not that his brother has awesome taste in girls and Dean is just jealous and wants in on the fun too. It’s not even that he has a big kink for sloppy seconds. It had never appealed to him before they started playing this sick sort of game they’ve been playing since Sam decided he was over Jess enough to start sleeping around again (he knew Sam was nowhere near ready for another relationship).

Dean remembers eyeing up a petite little thing at the bar once and then noticing Sam checking her out not too long after. Ever the gracious big brother, and not creepily concerned with Sam’s sex life, Dean figured he’d bow out and let Sam take the swing at this one — but then Sam caught Dean looking at her too, and tried to back down to let Dean have at it. Dean couldn’t have that. So he suggested the ploy that got them where they are now, they play Rock Paper Scissors for the chance to shoot their shot; Dean always loses Rock Paper Scissors.

The part of the night they hadn’t anticipated was the girl they’d been ogling spotting them playing a game for the chance to fuck her, and suggesting that they don’t need to choose, they can just take turns. That had been the game changer.

Listening to Sam fuck her stupid through the wall of the motel room is seriously hot, and Dean has to fight to keep his hand out of his pants the whole time he sits waiting, hearing Sam grunt out filth that he never imagined he’d hear from his little brother’s mouth. And when Sam lopes back through the adjoining door between their rooms with sex ruffled hair and a smirk, with a quick aside of ‘She’s all yours’ before he ducks into the bathroom for a shower, Dean swears he feels his knees go weak.

Quick as he can, he makes his way into the ‘sex room’ as he decided to call it in his head, and found the girl laying in the centre of the bed, legs draped open, playing with the cum leaking out of her pussy. Dean has to grab himself through his jeans, scared he’ll come on the spot if he doesn’t cut himself off.

“You gonna fuck me or what, big boy?” The girl leers at him, and Dean strips down like he’s being timed and slots himself between her thighs and pushes home in one go. He finishes embarrassingly quickly, with Sam’s cum sloshing around his dick and leaking into his mouth where the girl had painted it on like lip gloss. He devours every drop.

Dean catches Sam’s eye from across the bar and nods towards the girl he’s picked out as a target. It’s a college bar, so Sam does the approach, seeing as he's the one who looks like he could still fit in here. Dean drops himself in a chair and watches Sam work, proudly — he’s the one who taught the kind everything he knows after all. He watches as Sam charms her easily, gets her a drink, asks if she wants to come sit down and motions to the table Dean’s sitting at.

“Dean, this is Y/N,” Sam introduces her, smoothly pulling out a chair for her and pushing it back to the table — a true gentleman. “Y/N, this is my brother, Dean.”

“Hey there,” Y/N smiles at him easily, and Dean can tell they’ve picked someone up for a good time.

“Hey yourself, sweetheart,” Dean gives her a wink and leans in closer. “So, Sammy tell you how we’re hoping this night’s gonna go?”

“He did,” Y/N nods and shoots a smirk at Sam, who reciprocates, and Dean feels his guts churning. “Said the back seat of your car was real comfy too,” she grins mischievously.

“Sam even puts a blanket down most of the time, real class act,” Dean laughs, gulping down more of his drink.

“Wow,” Y/N is sarcastically amazed, “you fellas know how to treat a lady right,” she sounds bitter but Dean can tell she’s joking. She wouldn’t have followed Sam over here in the first place if she wasn’t.

“We try our best,” Sam grins at her charmingly, and Dean can see Y/N melt a little looking at his baby bro’s eyes — he can’t blame her.

Several drinks later, Y/N starts getting handsy with both of them, and Sam suggests they think about moving their little party of three outside. They show Y/N out to the car, Dean opens the back door with a flourish and she slides gracefully inside, glancing back out with a hungry look in her eyes. “So, who’s joining me?” she flutters her lashes seductively, like we need any convincing, Dean thinks to himself.

“Sammy,” Dean grunts, making a ‘come here’ motion with his hands and then holding one out flat and the other on top in a fist in preparation. Sam sidles over to Dean, gait smug, like he already knows he’s gonna win and get first crack at Y/N — which of course he is, because that’s how Dean likes it. He holds up his hands in a mirror of Dean’s, and eyes not leaving each others’ they both beat their fists against their palms. 1, 2, 3.

“Ooh,” Sam hisses in mock sympathy when they look down and see Sam’s ‘rock’ beats Dean’s ‘scissors’. “Always with the scissors, Dean,” Sam gives him a condescending pat on the shoulder, like he doesn’t know what Dean’s doing, and maybe he doesn’t, Dean thinks. Maybe Sam truly doesn’t realise how fucked up I am.

Dean turns to head back into the bar as Sam slides himself into the backseat next to Y/N, but he stops in his tracks when she calls out the window — “Sure you don’t wanna watch, handsome?” Dean freezes, the possibility of actually getting to see Sam fuck this girl, not just imagine it, is more intoxicating than the drinks he’s downed tonight. To actually see Sam, stripped and vulnerable, losing himself inside some cunt… Dean had never even considered that as a possibility before, but now that the thought is in his mind he needs it, craves it. He spins on his heel, looking back at Sam, inwardly praying that his little brother will be gracious enough to grant him this one thing.

“I don’t mind,” Sam smirks, eyes darting back to Y/N and raking down her body. “If she wants you to watch her get used like a little fucktoy, she can have that.” Dean is back by the car in a heartbeat. Sam pulls the back door shut as Y/N climbs on his lap and starts kissing him, while Dean checks around furtively and slides into the front.

Y/N moans start to fill the small space of the car’s interior as she grinds enthusiastically down onto Sam. Dean watches Sam run his hands down her back and up under the hem of her skirt.  He wishes Sam would take her skirt off so he could see Sam’s hands on her ass, see his  fingers tearing into the lace panties that Dean had gotten a glimpse of when she slid into the backseat earlier on. They pull apart and Y/N pushes Sam’s shirt up and over his head, messing up his hair, before she runs her fingers through it and holds on tight, earning a pleased groan from Sam. Dean catalogues that knowledge for later use – not that he thinks he’ll be in a position to test it out on Sam, but it will be a nice detail to add to his tragic imaginary Sam, the one that knows how sick he is and doesn’t care.

Sam’s hands sneak up the back of Y/N’s top and Dean watches as he removes her bra with practiced ease, and he nods to himself – respect. Sam must be feeling her up now because his arms have disappeared to her front and she’s letting out some pretty little whimpers and arching into his chest. Y/N pulls her top off, then reaches for Sam’s jeans, undoing the belt, button and zip quick as she can. Sam pushes her off him and she sprawls to the side, facing Dean now, and her eyes seek him out.

Her chest is heaving, her breasts shuddering with each rise and fall of her chest, and Dean spends a moment taking in her body, appreciating the curves, before he notices her hands have snuck beneath her skirt and she’s clearly touching herself while she watches him. Dean flushes, reaching down to adjust himself in his jeans. “Enjoying the show?” she winks at him, and Dean nods wordlessly.

“Get back over here, and let’s give him a real show,” Sam grabs Y/N and drags her back onto his lap, still facing Dean. She straddles him and rubs herself over his crotch. Sam snakes his arms around her waist and pulls up the front of her skirt, so Dean can see Sam’s cock thrusting between her thighs, against the glistening satin and lace panties she’s wearing. Dean feels his dick leap in his jeans, and he reaches down to adjust himself again before he decides to just give in and let down his zip, pushing his hand inside his boxers to fist himself out of the material. “Wanna see me fuck her?” Sam grunts, eyes flicking up to catch Dean staring at their grinding hips.

Dean feels his cock leak across his fingers at Sam’s words. “Fuck yes,” he groans, stroking himself harder. “Fucking give it to ‘er Sammy.”

“Want me to give it to you sweetheart?” Sam breathes against Y/N’s neck, tucking her hair tenderly behind her ear and nipping at her earlobe. She squeezes her eyes shut and whimpers, Sam’s way with words clearly affecting her. “Gonna be a good little slut and take my cock? Let me use you up and then hand you over to my brother to finish you off?”

“Fuck, Sam please, please, just use me,” she pulls her panties to the side and tries to get Sam to slip inside her but she can’t quite find the angle, and she whines, desperate and frustrated.

“Wow, for someone who just wants to be a set of holes you sure are needy,” Sam growls and gets his cock in the right place and pulls her down his shaft slowly. “Thought you told me inside you’d let me do whatever I want to you, and you wouldn’t put up a fuss?”

“Just fucking fuck me already, please Sam,” Y/N is begging, grinding down onto Sam’s cock like a whore.  

Sam finally stops teasing her and follows through on his promise to use her. One of his hands comes up to wrap around her throat while he uses his other arm to keep her body pressed close against his, and he punches his hips into her hard, without abandon. Dean nearly chokes every time he catches a glimpse of Sam’s cock, bare and shiny with her slick, before he pushes back into her. It’s better than he could have imagined, watching Sam actually rail into a pussy instead of just hearing it through some flimsy drywall. It’s much easier to picture what Sam would look like fucking into him now that he’s seeing this.

“She feel good Sammy?” Dean is horrified to hear how strained his voice is when he speaks. He sounds like a goddamn girl with how fucking breathy he is.

“Uh huh,” Sam fucks into her quicker, like Dean’s question has spurred him on. “So wet, can feel her soaking into my thighs,” he moans. Dean refuses to let out the whimper that’s trying to escape his throat. “Gonna be even wetter for you,” Sam continues, leering up at Dean through his lashes, chin looped over Y/N’s shoulder. “She’s gonna be all messy when I’m done with her. But you like ‘em like that dontcha? Like ‘em strung out and used up?”

“Fuck,” Dean does almost whimper.

“Oh god,” Y/N whines, dropping her hips down in earnest against every one of Sam’s thrusts, and she snakes a hand down her front to start rubbing over her clit.

“Oh you wanna cum, do you? Think you earned that yet?” Sam bites against Y/N’s neck and bats her hand away from her core. “I think you’re gonna have to do a bit more before you get to cum. Gotta let me cum in you first, huh? Then you’re gonna be a good little cocksleeve for my big brother to get off in, and then, maybe, if you’ve been a good girl, we’ll make you cum.”

“Fucking hell,” she moans heavily, dropping her head back onto Sam’s shoulder. “C’mon then fuck me, want your cum inside me, please,” she whines, voice piercing in the small space.

“Yeah, that’s what Dean wants too,” Sam smirks, but he’s not looking at Dean now, he’s got his eyes closed tight and his head buried against Y/N’s shoulder. Dean thanks fuck for that, because when he heard Sam say that he knows Dean wants him to cum inside Y/N, Dean thought he was going to die of embarrasment. Obviously he wanted that, and in the back of his mind he knew Sam must know that he likes fucking the girls second, but they’d never talked about it. What did Sam think about the fact that Dean got off on fucking his little brother’s cum back into whatever warm body they’d picked out that day? He must be okay with it because they keep doing it.

Dean’s existential crisis is cut short when he hears the tell tale gasp and cut off whine that means Sam is cumming, and he looks up just in time to catch the  pure fucking bliss on his little brother’s face. His eyes flick down to where Sam and Y/N are joined and he watches, mesmerised, as Sam pulls out, his cock laced with the white of his release.

“Open your mouth, bitch,” Sam grunts, and shoves Y/N off his lap and onto her hands and knees so she can suck the cum back off his cock. Dean’s breath catches in his throat, desperately hoping she doesn’t swallow.

When she pulls off of Sam with a wet sound her mouth stays open and Dean can see the cum slipping from her lips. He reaches over the seat impulsively and grabs her hair, yanking her towards him and slamming their mouths together. Dean sucks her tongue into his mouth like he wants to bite it off, and he can’t keep in the moan that bubbles up from his chest when he tastes the bitter edge of Sam’s spunk on his tongue.

“C’mere,” Dean grunts against Y/N’s lips, dragging her over the top of the seat. It’s not graceful, it’s not attractive or sexy, it’s born of the intense desperation Dean has to feel something hot and wet around his dick, and when he pushes into Y/N’s cunt he knows he’s not going to win any records for stamina tonight. She’s tight, but it’s an easy fuck because she’s so so wet. Dean can feel Sam’s cum squeezing out of her every time he fucks in, pushing the creamy liquid out around his dick and grinding it into his jeans. They’re going to be ruined but he doesn’t give a fuck because this feeling is always worth it.

Y/N’s head is buried in the crook of his neck and Dean’s forehead is smashed into her shoulder as they cling to each other. Dean jumps when he feels hands on his shoulders, because the fingers are facing the wrong way for them to be hers – they’re Sam’s. He leans across Dean to kiss Y/N roughly, then yanks her head back by her hair, holding her out in front of Dean so they can watch her tits bounce while Dean fucks into her mercilessly.

“What d’ya think Dean, do we let her cum?” Y/N whines at the words and Dean can hear Sam smirking. “You’re gonna cum anyways aren’t you, you fucking slut. Gonna squeeze his cock real good for me? That’ll make you a real fuckin’ whore won’t it, going home with two guys’ loads in that pussy, huh?”

Sam’s taunts are cruel and mocking and fucking hot and Dean has never had to listen to Sam’s dirty talk while he was actually fucking something and he can’t handle it. He stills inside Y/N, gasping as he pumps his release inside her, mixes it up with Sam’s. Y/N is shaking around him and Dean thinks she must have cum too but honestly he’s so far gone he can’t even tell.

When Y/N climbs back over the seat to find her clothes, Dean stays put, still trying to catch his breath. He hears Sam open the door and walk her out, back to the bar. He shakes himself from his reverie and rushes to tuck himself back into his boxers. His jeans feel sticky, and they probably are ruined but he still doesn’t care. It was absolutely worth it.

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library​ @tintentrinkerin​ @negans-lucille-tblr​ @fandomfic-galore​ @petitgateau911​ @schaefchenherde​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @little-diable​ @laxe-chester67​ @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67​

All SPN: @cemini-winchester @akshi8278 @stoneyggirl @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j 

[shurisneakers]

harmless (iv)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, guns, mention of war, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: good evening i’ve never been to any of the places i mention in this series so dont come @ me

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He spends the weekend doing nothing. It’s supposed to be relaxing. He finds it nauseatingly boring.

“No mini mission this week?” Steve asks him from across the couch. 

They’re supposed to be catching up on Star Wars but two prequels in and Bucky could feel himself lose his sanity. Anyone could present him with a random assortment of alphabets, call it a Star Wars species and he would have no reason not to believe them.

It’s not like he doesn’t like space. It’s just that he’s had enough of it and everything and everyone who came from it for the foreseeable future.

“No. Someone else is taking care of it.”

“Didn’t you volunteer for this?”

“I pulled myself out of the case.”

“I thought you were having fun.” 

Bucky’s head slowly turns to look at him. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. “Looked like you were.”

Well, he wasn’t. He likes it here at home, glued to the TV. Popcorn beside him, sweatpants on. Refreshing, calming, slow, mundane, and Jesus Christ, so fucking boring-

His spiralling is interrupted by the dinging of the elevator to the common floor. No one was allowed up there unless it was extremely urgent. Guests were barely allowed into the Tower as it was. 

It reveals the receptionist from downstairs, Marie. She’s always a little reserved, a little shy. But Bucky had seen her chew and spit out trespassers or anyone who dared to get on her nerve. He adores her.

“Hey, Marie,” Steve says while Bucky sends her a friendly wave in greeting. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a hostage situation downtown,” she informs them. 

“Okay...” Steve drawls, waiting for a reason why this was an Avengers level threat.

“They’ve asked for Mr. Barnes by name.” She makes a mention towards him.

Bucky sits up straight. Bits of popcorn fall off his chest. 

“What?”

“They said, and I quote-” she looks down at her notepad. “‘Tell that grumpy motherfucker that I’m waiting for him and that he’s not getting out of this so easily because we have come too far.’ End quote. They’ve also told me to include a kissing emoji. And a skull.”

Steve and he look at each other.

“Well?” Steve prods. 

Bucky sighs and gets up to go get ready.

The entrance of Chuck E. Cheese is more crowded than he’d ever seen. He wasn’t even sure he’d seen people in the store before. If there were, they probably only came up till his waist. 

There are a few journalists, a few policemen standing together outside. Whispers of confusion and curiosity reigned free. 

Bucky gently pushes his way to the front. He gets a nod from a police officer who opens the door for him after a quick briefing. 

The place is darker than it usually would be. A trademark, it seemed. The blinds are drawn shut and most of the light is coming through whatever sneaks in through the crack. 

“Hey, Barnes.” Your voice is muffled by a mask that looks suspiciously like it was made out of classroom craft supplies.

There’s a person in a loose chokehold in your hand with a gun pressed against his head. Once again it looks straight out of a cartoon, purple with round disks lining its barrel. 

“What’s all this now?” He gestures around monotonously. 

“A hostage situation. Didn’t you get the memo?”

“Got that part down, genius,” he bites back. “But why?”

“Fucker kept harassing me when I was walkin’ down the street.” 

The guy’s helpless gaze met Bucky. 

“Catcalling me, stalking me.” You tighten the grip you have on him. “Call me darlin’ one more time, you son of a bitch. I dare you.”

He wasn’t impressed with his pleading eyes. He kinda felt like he deserved it. 

“Why’d you do it here?” The bright colours were starting to give him a heading. “And where are the staff?”

“It’s symbolic, Bucky,” you emphasise, “He deserves to be among other rat bastards.”

Of course.

“The staff?” he asks again. 

“Gave them thirty bucks and told them to leave. I’m not a monster.”

“Right.” He doesn’t bother refuting you. “Why’d you call me here?”

“Dunno.” You shrug. “Thought it’d be fun. You having fun yet?”

You shake the guy you’re holding. He gives a small whimper. 

Bucky doesn’t want to stop you. He had chugged enough Respect Juice in his lifetime to know that this guy probably deserved a threat or two.

Hell, he’d even help but you were more than capable of handling this on your own.

“Listen,” he sighed. “As much as I’m sure he deserves it, this is technically illegal and I’m required to stop you.”

“Sorry sarge, I thought you weren’t interested in playing this stupid game with me,” you mock, voice dropping to imitate him.

“I’m not.” It wasn’t entirely true. One Saturday with Jar Jar Binks had convinced him otherwise.

“Okay, so before you leave, do me a favour and call Hawkeye. I hear he looks mighty fine when he’s annoyed.”

His face involuntarily scrunched up. You were going to replace him with Clint? Clint?

He probably took it more as an insult than he should have.

“I’m not doing that.” Bless his foul mouthed friend, but he was a little shit who was too sarcastic for his own good. At least twice a week he’d say something stupid to Bucky and then take out his hearing aids when he tried to argue back. 

“You’re leavin’ me with no options here,” you groaned, using your thumb to flip a switch. The gun looks like it powered up, lights along the side turning red.

If he let you have this, it’d be a bad look for the Avengers.

New York man dies in Chuck E. Cheese lone hostage situation, unable to be saved by same superhero who tried to fight Thanos with a machine gun.

“Tell ya what,” he says instead, “If you kill him, there won’t even be a slight chance that you’ll see me again.”

Your grip on the gun falters.

“If I let him go...”

“I might consider coming back next week.” He’s trying to spin it, make it look like he’s the one with the upper hand here. “But you gotta let him go.”

You search his face for any signs of dishonesty.

“Let him go or you’ll never see me again.” It sounds too much like Clint’s arguments with his dog who brought a live squirrel into the house. 

“Fine,” you relent, a glint in your eye. “but say goodbye to this fuckface.”

Before Bucky can open his mouth to shout in protest, you pull the trigger. The man clenches his eyes shut, face red.

He expects blood to be splatter across his face.

Nothing happens.

A barrage of bubbles floats into the room.

“I meant it literally,” you say, pushing him off you. “Say goodbye. He’s leaving.”

The man stumbles to the ground and Bucky doesn’t make any attempt to catch him. He scrambles to his knees, picking himself up and scurrying out the door to a hoard of reporters.

The door shuts behind him with the chime of a bell.

“You’re annoying,” Bucky states, giving a small sigh.

“I’m well aware of that.” You pull off the mask, wiping the sweat off your brow.

“Where is the agent assigned to your case?” 

“Dunno. Last I saw he was crying on the driveway of my lair. I just figured he’d pick himself up later so I left him there.”

Bucky’s nose twitches. 

“You weren’t actually going to kill him, were you.” He shrugs with his shoulder towards the door. It wasn’t a question, more a statement. He knew you wouldn’t. 

“I could have.”

“But you weren’t going to,” he repeats. 

“No,” you admit. “I wasn’t. But I’m glad to see you showed up.”

“You held someone hostage as leverage.”

“No, no. I held someone hostage and then asked to see you. They were completely unrelated.”

“You’re evil.”

“You jumped to conclusions,” you point out. “Would you like a trampoline next time? Maybe a pogo stick, you clown?”

He has a very real gun in his holster. His very real metal death arm aches to use it. 

“No one else agreed to come,” he deflects. 

“We both know that’s a lie. You were going to come back anyway.” You stuff the bubble gun back into the bag. “I’m deliciously irresistible.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.” You give him a smirk and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, you win this round, sarge.”

He doesn’t say anything. He watches you remove your heist gear, revealing normal civilian clothes underneath.

You walk casually to the kitchen, intending to leave through the back door.

“But I can’t say I lost either.” You send him a wink before swiftly pushing open the door and leaving him behind.

He only watches you leave.

It doesn’t hit him until a few seconds later that he let a criminal out of his hands when there were several policemen and journalists outside.

He entertains the idea of chasing you down and handing you over. 

It takes him only a few seconds to decide that if they wanted you, they’d have to try themselves.

Next part 

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter One

Chapter One: The Other Wilson Sister - chapter two

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n grew up with Sam and Sarah Wilson in the bayou of Delacroix. During the Blip she stayed with Sarah to help run the family business. With Sam back and trying to save the day, Y/n’s perfect opportunity to confess her long-kept secret to her best friend presents itself.

Warnings: tfatws ep.1 spoilers, language, suicide mention, undertones of racism, lots of Wilson sibling arguments, tragic backstory

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: As I wrote this first chapter out I realized it’s most definitely also a Sam Wilson x platonic fic. Bucky doesn’t come in till next chapter but rest assured, it’s gonna be a wild ride...Also I didn’t know till now how difficult it is to plan out a series in its entirety when the show isn’t completed lol. Hope you enjoy! (I may or may not change the title depending on how I feel about it later today lol)

--------

Delacroix, LA 2024

--------

One of the only things I was certain of in life was that blood didn’t make a family.

I had no official tie to Wilson family, I wasn’t a daughter or some distant cousin sent to live with them. We shared no DNA and they had no reason to love me as much as they did. But throughout my life I had known no kinder people than them and I doubted that would change. As I stood on the family boat helping to unload the catch of the day, I thought of how our corner of the Louisiana bayou felt more like home than any place I’d ever been.

“Hey,” Sarah said from the dock, “Head out of the clouds and down here helping me.” “Sorry,” I shook myself out of my thoughts and hopped off the boat, “Not a bad catch if you ask me.”

Sarah sighed as she bent over a large bucket of fish, “It could’ve been better.” I came to stand in front of her and held my hands out for a bucket, “Take the wins where you can get ‘em, Sar. Lord knows we don’t get enough of them.” Sarah Wilson was the only superhero I’d ever aspire to be like. She was a widow who had raised two kids and run a business all by herself with no family for support. The past five years had been challenging with so many people gone and while I had moved in with her to help however I could, I could take no credit. She was one of the strongest women I’d ever known.

“You had that look on your face again,” she said as we worked.

“What look?”

“That look that lets me know you were thinking real hard about something,” Sarah imitated the expression in question by thinning her eyes slightly and furrowing her brows, “Like this.” I laughed heartily at her impression, “So what was it?” I gazed out at the bayou waters before turning to the boat and finally Sarah, “Family.”

She nudged me with her hip, something we’d done when we were young and an affectionate gesture we’d carried into adulthood. A half hour went by with us and the boys unloading and sorting the fish we’d caught. I was too wrapped up in the task to notice the sound of a vehicle approaching until AJ and Cass announced the arrival. 

“Blue for the snapper, orange for the whitefish.”

“Uncle Sam!”

My head shot up upon hearing his name, as did Sarah’s. I used my hand as a visor against to sun to spot the familiar rusted truck parked a few hundred feet away, with my best friend standing outside it hugging his nephews.

“That’s right, Uncle Sam,” Sarah called, “You’re back early.”

I grinned as I shucked my gloves off and made a beeline for him, slamming my body into his for a tight embrace. It had been a few weeks since I’d seen him, having spent the only weekend he was off away, and I’d naturally been worried sick about him. My best friend and un-biological brother may have been an Avenger for years, but after losing him in the Blip I didn’t think I’d ever stop worrying about him.

“Every time I come home, you act like I’ve been gone for five years,” he joked over my shoulder, resulting in me pulling away and slapping his bicep.

“Not even a little funny,” I pointed a finger in his smug face, he slung an arm around my neck as we walked over to Sarah.

“What’s goin’ on? You got Mom’s sneaky look on your face.” “How you gonna try to read me when you know I’m the one that reads you?” Sam smiled, passing by and greeting a long time customer of ours. “That look is permanently glued to his face, Sar,” I chuckled, “I learned that in grade school.” Sam shook his head at me and laughed before making his way up the dock to the Wilson family boat. “You gotta marvel at it, baby’s being held together by duct tape and prayers.” I leaned into Sarah, “Are you telling him or am I?” She took the initiative, “It just needs to float long enough for me to sell it.” “I thought we were gonna discuss if we were selling it,” Sam replied as he helped unload another bucket of fish. “We did, and then you were off fighting Doctor Space Cape or whatever while we,” Sarah gestured between us, “Were holdin’ it together for five long years. Now that the world is going back to normal, this thing’s gotta go.”

Sam looked to me with a look of displeasure, “Were you in on this?” “Don’t drag me into this,” I waved my hands as if wiping my involvement away, “This is a Wilson sibling discussion.” “Uh-uh,” Sam called me out, wagging his finger, “Don’t do that. Dad said every chance he got that you were one of his own, you’ve got a say in this too. What is it?” I scrunched my face up, dreading the argument that was knocking on our door, “It’s dead weight, Sam. The money we could get for it would be enough to keep us comfortable for a little longer without having to worry.” “We grew up on this thing. It’s not just Mom and Dad’s name on it. This thing is a part of our family.”

I sighed as Sarah stepped forward, “You know the situation we’re in. This is why I prefer not to dwell on it in front of everybody.” “Well what if we don’t need to sell it?” Sam said. “Can we talk about this in private?” I suggested, tiring of having to convince Sam that we were in the right when he hadn’t been around to witness our struggles. A long time friend of ours called out to Sam and he willingly took the distraction, opting out of having the inevitable difficult conversation. Sarah and I trudged back, totes of fish in hand and tried to get through the rest of the work day without worrying if we were approaching our last.

————

During golden hour, when the clock had struck five and we’d started packing it up for the day was the only time to get Sam to actually listen. I knew how much the boat meant to him, it meant something to us all, but he wasn’t living in the reality that Sarah and I were.

“Sam, the boat’s gotta go,” Sarah finally said, breaking the silence we were working in on the vessel. “Wait-“ “No, let me finish,” she said, “Y/n and I are doin’ everything I can to keep this business afloat and every day we’re making $5 and spending $10.” Sam looked between the two of us, “So why won’t you let me help?” 

“Sam, don’t…” I winced, knowing Sarah’s reaction would be strong.

“No, don’t start with that. We made a deal before Daddy died,” Sarah carried a few buckets to the center of the deck, “You’re out there, I do things my way here. Y/n agreed to it too when she went off to school.” “Right, but you tangled the house into this when you took those loans,” Sam finished tying off one of the ropes, turning around and giving Sarah the perfect opportunity to punch his chest, “Forgot how hard you hit.” I sighed as I passed him by to follow Sarah, “Low blow, you deserved it.” 

“Sarah, Y/n, c’mon,” he chased after us, “Look, and don’t hit me again…What if you had money to fix it up? Make it nice so you can charter it when you’re not out working the waters?” “Sam, do you think this was an easy decision for us?” I faced him, leaning against the doorway next to him, “I tried every tactic I learned in business school and got nowhere. Anything I thought up, we needed more money to do. This is our only option.” As he always did with the things he cared about, he fought. “We can take a loan and consolidate everything, it’ll take down your monthly,” he looked confused as he watched Sarah laugh, “What?” “You think I didn’t try the banks? They’re in with all that big business now.” I followed them like the little sister I’d always been as they moved their fight towards the cockpit of the boat. Sam blocked another doorway, “Yeah, but now you have me.”

“Don’t, Sam,” Sarah shook her head, “I just got good with this.”

“All right…”

“Maybe it is time for us to move on,” Sarah sighed. “Either way, just let me help,” Sam offered, “I’ll set the appointment. Look, I won’t let you guys down. We can turn this shit around. Trust me.” I peered over at Sarah, wishing I could see the calculations going on in her brain. It seemed pointless, but any shot at changing our luck was an avenue worth pursuing.

“It can’t hurt to try,” I shrugged.

Sarah finally relented, “To the rescue, huh?”

“Always,” Sam smiled, “Now, let’s get some dinner. I’m hungry.” ————

Sarah was taking AJ and Cass back home while Sam and I took his truck to go pick up food.

“So how was Tunisia?” I asked, sticking my hand out the window and letting it rise and fall with the wind.

“Hot, but the mission went well,” he answered, looking out of the corner of his eyes at me, “And that’s all you need to know.”

I snickered, “C’mon, it’s our thing. I ask you detailed questions about your confidential missions, you tell me you can’t reveal anything, I keep asking…You’ve gotta honor tradition.” “I flew, I fought, I rescued. Boom, mission explained.” “Ugh, you’re impossible, Wilson,” I waved him off, “How was the museum dedication?” The atmosphere changed as the subject of conversation changed from easy to complicated. “It was nice to see Steve’s accomplishments celebrated. Got to see Rhodes which was nice…” “You’re avoiding a red white and blue topic,” I said, trying to coax his true feelings out of their shells, “Seriously, are you really okay with this? Giving up the shield?” Sam inhaled deeply and exhaled, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t think it was ever meant to end up in my hands. I did the right thing, it belongs with Steve and the museum is the closest to Steve I can get.” I respected my friend’s choice but I knew there was so much more to his decision and I wished he would just say it. He had an enormous amount of respect for Steve Rogers and what the shield represented, but Steve Rogers never had to face the issues that Sam Wilson did. Steve Rogers could follow a government and be respected in return with no problems whatsoever. Sam Wilson couldn’t, not always. There was an elephant in the room and if neither of us wanted to talk about it, I wouldn’t push it.

“You’d have looked good in that uniform though,” I smiled as we turned into the take out place’s parking lot.

“Damn right,” Sam waggled his eyebrows and unbuckled his seatbelt. Laughter rang out in the truck sending me on waves of nostalgia. The memories that me and him had in this truck still were infamous between us. As proud as I was of the Falcon’s heroics, I was prouder to call Sam Wilson my best friend.

————

Just as he’d promised, Sam made the appointment with the banker. He and Sarah were already on their way as I made the hour long drive in the opposite direction to New Orleans. I’d told them I’d be back in the evening to discuss how it went, but I had my own appointment to keep.

Sam and I had met back when we were just a couple of first graders. I’d always struggled with making friends as a kid, but Sam never had an issue when it came to connecting with others. It was one of his strongest qualities. And so he used his gift on his desk neighbor, the loneliest kid in class, and pulled her out of herself. We were inseparable until college and adulthood forced us apart, but we’d never lost our bond. Even when he was a pararescue, he wrote to me as often as his work allowed him.

All the Wilsons had taken a liking to me after Sam brought me home one day after school to watch cartoons. Darlene had told me I was welcome to come over any time I wanted, an offer Sam and I accepted till I became a permanent fixture in their house. Paul and his wife had frequently tried to get the rest of my family over for a crawfish boil or a barbecue. They’d send me every few weeks with a verbal invitation to my parents and the next day I’d always come back with a polite decline and excuse as to why we couldn’t make it. Mom was busy with spring cleaning, Melanie had a recital, Dad was feeling under the weather…

The only one that had ever been true was about my dad not feeling well. He was never well. But as a child, how do you explain that your father is a ghost around his own home who drinks himself to sleep and wakes up each night screaming from nightmares? There was no polite way to phrase circumstances that dark. Sometimes I felt like my dad had never returned from the military and though there hadn’t been a war at the time of his service, he still came back with his share of trauma. Mom did everything she could to try and help him. She found support groups for veterans, she took him to the best psychiatrists, she created a safe space for him within our home to retreat to. There was no amount of help that could kill my father’s demons and that was proven the night he’d said we were out of milk and he was going to the store. A few hours later, with my sister and I fast asleep upstairs, my worried mother answered the door and was informed by the police that my father had crashed his car and was dead. After speaking to Mom about what his mood had been like before he’d left and if he suffered from any mental illnesses, it was ruled as an undoubtable suicide.

My mother didn’t get much time to mourn after the funeral, she had two children to provide for. She took three jobs just to earn enough to move us from our house in New Orleans to a dingy apartment in Delacroix by the bayou. When the Wilsons heard that Mom needed to scrape enough money in the budget to hire a baby-sitter for me and Melanie, they put a stop to her efforts immediately. The insisted that Mel and I would be happier spending the time my mom was working with them and their kids rather than a stranger. That was how the Wilsons and the Y/l/ns had ended up so tightly knit. While Sarah and Melanie had bonded as the older sisters and were often off doing their own thing, Sam and I caused havoc of our own in classic younger sibling fashion. By the time we were in high school, both parents called the other’s children their own.

When Paul and Darlene passed away, it was incredibly hard on all of us and it was equal when Mom had a fall and the doctors suggested she move into a facility. Sam, Sarah and I had worked hard to get her into one of the best nursing homes in the city and she hadn’t stopped raving about how much she loved it. Pulling into the parking lot was like muscle memory now, I never missed a weekend visit with her. This one was special because Melanie, her husband and brood of children had come too. I grabbed my visitor’s sticker at the front desk and made my way down the familiar hallways. The sound of laughter and cooing echoed out of my mom’s room, bringing a smile to my face.

I knocked on the door and heads turned, my nieces and nephews being the quickest. “Aunt Y/n!” I embraced Sophia and Max tightly, “The twin tornados! I missed you guys,” separating from them was difficult as they clung to me but I made it to Stephan, giving him a kiss on the cheek and doing the same to Mel, “You look hot, mama.” “I certainly don’t feel it,” she remarked as she cradled their newest addition, baby Alexandra, close to her chest, “I spend more hours of the day covered in glitter glue and spit up than you could imagine.” “You wear it all well,” I patted her shoulder before coming to my mother’s bedside and hugging her, “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” she kissed both of my cheeks and looked to the door, “Sarah and Sam couldn’t come?” “No, but they send their love. They had an appointment at the bank,” I set down my purse and pulled up a chair, “We’re trying to get approved for a small business loan.”

Glen took Alexandra from Mel so she could tend to the twins, “I wish we could help out, Y/n. I’ve looked at the budget over and-“ It warmed my heart that my brother-in-law cared so much about a problem that wasn’t his to bear. “Glen,” I held up a hand, “You guys are stretched thin enough. This isn’t me asking for charity, it’s our problem and Sam’s confidant we’ll find a fix.” “How does he have enough time to be a member of the Air Force, an Avenger and save the family business?” Mel asked.

“Well, the Avengers are kind of off doing their own thing right now from what I understand and he’s home for a little while from the Air Force,” I explained, “So his main job at the moment is to get us our funding and annoy the snot out of me while doing it.” After earning some giggles from Sophia and Max at the expression, Glen announced that they were going to go and grab lunch for everybody. My mom took my hand once it was just the two of us and I settled into my seat, “How are you, sweetheart?”

“Hanging in there,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair, “Tired, stressed, I smell like fish most of the time…We need this loan or else we’re going to have to sell the boat. You should’ve seen Sam’s face when Sarah told him…”

“I’m sorry, I know how much that boat means to you kids. I could’ve offered you the moon and stars and it still wouldn’t have been enough to get you off it.” I smiled at the memories of summer nights spent laying on the deck stargazing, dance parties on the stern and early mornings spent with Mr. Wilson teaching us how to fish. A childhood with so much sadness had also contained so many joys. To part with a tangible one killed me more than I’d let on to Sam.

Sensing that the topic was making me emotional, my mother was kind enough to change it. “How are things otherwise? Have you been getting out there?” I dropped my head back dramatically and groaned, “Mom…” “I’m just saying,” she dropped my hand and held up hers in surrender, “You should get out there, meet someone. There’s no shame in trying those online dating services. What’s the one…the…Tinder?” “Oh my gosh, Mom,” I buried my face in my hands and moved my fingers so she could only see my eyes, “Please stop talking.” “You know who I ran into the other day? Jack’s mom, from high school. She lives just down the next hallway, she says that he’s still single. You could get in touch with him.” “Y’know, for a woman who advocated for her daughters to lead such independent lives, you’re sure quick to try and marry us off,” I chuckled, “The second Mel started dating Glen you were practically booking the church.” “And I’m very proud of both my girls for being such strong young women,” she smiled proudly, “But finding love doesn’t mean losing your independence so long as you’re with the right man. I love that you’ve been helping out Sarah these last few years but honey…I see how lonely you are. In those big y/e/c eyes you think I still can’t read after all these years.” The y/e/c eyes in question started to fill with sadness at hearing my pain verbalized. It was true, I was lonely. More so than I would ever let on to anybody. I was a shy enough kid who only withdrew further after Dad passed away, that kind of introversion wasn’t one that you outgrew. But I’d given up the idea of finding someone to spend my life with a long time ago for a bevy of reasons.

“Sometimes it’s better to be alone, Mama,” I nodded as if to force myself to agree with my statement, “No chances of getting hurt…or hurting somebody.” “You couldn’t hurt somebody even if you tried,” my mom argued sweetly, “You couldn’t even kill spiders when you were a kid.” “And now there’s a Spiderman out there so I’m glad I didn’t,” I shot back with a laugh.

“I’m serious, honey,” she took my hand once again, “Don’t let your heart’s wounds keep you from finding someone who could help soothe them.” 

I was convinced my mother was both a poet and a therapist at some point in her life, she gave advice in the most beautifully phrased way. And while I’d loved to have taken her words to heart, tell Mel to fix me up with one of Glen’s friends and put an end to my loneliness, I feared that I was just too broken to give love to someone.

————

I arrived back home late, shedding my boots and bag at the doors. I’d expected to hear a triumphant chorus of Sam shouting ‘WHO DA MAN?’ as he typically would when heroically proving me and Sarah wrong, but there was only silence. When I walked into the kitchen and saw their glum faces, it wasn’t hard to guess the outcome of the meeting. “You’re kidding me…” “Said that things had tightened up,” Sam said, leaning against one side of the island and taking a swig of his beer, “Had the balls to ask me for a picture afterwards.” I groaned and grabbed the beer bottle Sarah had extended to me, “Okay, we’re out of options. It’s time to move forward-“ “Don’t say it…” Sam tiredly warned.

“Someone has to, Sam. We can’t keep searching for solutions when the right one is sitting out on our dock,” I gestured to the window that looked out on the road we took each day to work.

Sarah set her beer down and held her hands up in surrender, “I’m not having this argument again tonight, I’m going to bed. If you’re gonna kill each other, do it quietly.” She left as me and Sam silently stared each other down, waiting for the other to speak. I was too frustrated to play the game, “What’s this really about?” “It’s about the damn boat and that you and Sarah are throwing in the towel too-“ “What,” I elongated the single syllable word, “Is this really about?” Sam set his drink down and rubbed his hands over his head before looking back up at me helplessly, “You guys were on your own for five years and you’ve done an amazing job. But now nothing’s working and I just…I just want to help because I couldn’t for so long.” It all clicked as to why Sam was being so insistent on trying to eliminate the whole matter. He was used to saving the day and finally meeting one that he couldn’t save was a wall he thought he could still find a way to run through. He’d been like that ever since we were kids, always trying to help the people he loved even when it was impossible. He had the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever met.

“I love you,” I set down my bottle and crossed the island to come next to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, “But this may be one problem that the Falcon can’t swoop in and fix. The Avengers work hard, but a business graduate helping to run a struggling seafood business works harder,” I succeeded in getting him to crack a smile, “Believe me, I’ve run all the numbers and consulted with anyone who would listen. The boat’s gotta go.”

“Yeah, well, humor me and give me a little while longer.”

“Fine, a couple more days,” I grabbed my beer once again and clinked it against his, “But it’s not my fault if Sarah smacks you again.” Sam laughed, slung an arm around my neck and kissed my temple. “You coming up soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll be up in a few minutes,” I answered, watching as he finished his drink before leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs. Once I’d heard his bedroom door open and close, I exited out to the back porch. I took in the late night sounds of the bayou, the crickets chirping and the wind rustling trees had always soothed me. I wished they could touch what I was feeling right now, but the noise didn’t do a thing to drown out my worry. For the business I feared we may lose, for Sam as he ran himself ragged trying to help and for myself and what him and Sarah would think of me once I confessed the secret I’d kept from them for so long.

I held out my hand and watched as the blue energy flowed from my fingertips. Would Sam ever forgive me for not telling him I had powers? They had manifested when I was young, my parents said. I couldn’t remember a day where my body hadn’t produced a magical energy that when harnessed incorrectly could be destructive. It had been a sad day for my mother’s garden when I’d discovered that bit…According to her, she’d wanted to take me to a school for people like me run by a man named Charles Xavier but my father had said no immediately. He’d been so insistent on keeping my powers a secret that my mother said she’d only seen that type of fear in his eyes when he had a war flashback. So I was instructed to never show my powers to anyone under any circumstances and I’d done just that. I’d thought about revealing them in 2012 after the Battle of New York, but my dad’s fear rang in my ears. Three years later when Sam became an Avenger was when I began to feel guilty that I was keeping a secret from him. I’d wanted to join him and find somewhere where I didn’t feel so out of place, but I’d decided against it again. Now with their team so broken and Sam off with the Air Force, I’d finally gathered the courage to confide in him and Sarah. I should have done it six months ago, but I’d chickened out too many times. Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow was the day. But would they still see me the same way once I showed them? ————

The next morning, after dressing and running over what I wanted to say three times, I hesitantly headed downstairs to face the music. With there being nobody in the kitchen, I followed the sounds of the television to find Sarah and Sam staring at the screen intently. I stood to the side of the room and watched a suited man give a speech out front of a government building. “We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.”

My jaw slackened as a man marched out in front of the gathered press, dressed in a variation of Steve Rogers’ patriotic uniform and carrying the iconic shield. The shield that had only weeks ago sat upstairs in Sam’s bedroom in a case. I dragged my gaze away from the screen to look at my best friend, hunched over in his seat with his eyes shut in sorrow. Sarah looked just as distraught, her eyes trained on her brother as well. We waited in silence until the breaking news broadcast switch back to regularly scheduled programming before Sarah switched the box off.

“I thought you said it was going to stay in the museum,” I finally spoke, my voice choked with emotion.

“It was supposed to,” Sam ground out, his grip on his own hands tightening. Without any warning, he rose from his seat and left the room. My instinct was to follow him and try to comfort him, but there was nothing I could say to ease the deep pain he was feeling. I wasn’t even sure I could form words that weren’t doused in raw shock. The two things I was sure of were that a) the government had fucked up royally and b) now was definitely not the time to tell Sam about my powers.

————

It was a few days later and Sam still hadn’t spoken much to Sarah and I about the situation. It was unnatural for Sam to suffer in silence especially around us, but we both gave him the space he needed. 

I was taking laundry to AJ and Cass’ room and had to pass by Sam’s, surprised to see him packing a bag. “Thought you were sticking around.” “Something big came up,” he replied as he set a stack of t-shirts in his duffle bag, “I need to go check it out.” I leaned against his doorway, “Air Force big or Avengers big?” “The second one.” “And you’re going by yourself?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

Sam looked over his shoulder at me finally, “Don’t have anybody to else to call. Besides, I can handle myself.” I hummed in response before setting down the stack of laundry, an idea forming in my head that could solve both of our problems. I folded my hands together and dug my feet into the carpet, “What if you didn’t have to go by yourself?” He looked confused, “What are you talking about?” My folded hands began to make circles in the air as I struggled for the right words, “What if I came with you?” “What, like take your family to work day something?” Sam scoffed, “That’d be fun.” “I’m serious.” “Are you crazy? Of course you can’t come.” “Hear me out,” I looked to his bag and the pair of jeans he had next to fold, “Actually watch.” He folded his arms and waited for my demonstration. I took a deep breath and extended my hand, forcing my energy outwards to levitate the jeans. “Whoa!” Sam exclaimed as he watched me maneuver the clothing inside his duffle, “W-w-what…What was that?” I shrugged and pulled my hand back to my side, “The reason why you should take me.”

“How long have you been able to do that?” “Since I was a kid,” I moved out of the doorway and closed the door, the last thing I needed was AJ and Cass knowing their aunt could move things with her mind, “My parents told me never to tell anybody. I’ve thought about telling you for years since you’re used to this kind of thing but I was scared…Then you were gone and when you came back, life was moving non-stop and I lost my courage. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Sam stood with his jaw hung for a few seconds before shaking his head back into reality, “Why are you apologizing? You never had to tell me, but I’m glad you did,” he pointed a finger towards me, “But you’re still not going.” “What are you talking about? I’d be an asset to whatever it is you’re fighting! And I love you but c’mon bird boy, you may be able to fly but I can do it without any tech.” “Oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” Sam gestured between the two of us, “You think insulting me is the way to get me to let you come?” “Come on,” I moved to sit on his bed, “Tell me what the problem is and I’ll prove that I can help.” “Alright, alright,” Sam took a stance in front of me, “You wanted to hear the tea on my missions, I’ll spill it. There’s an online group called the Flag Smashers, their MO is to get the world back to the way it was during the last five years. My military contact, Torres, went undercover in Switzerland when they robbed a bank. Knocked him unconscious when he tried to fight back.” I balanced my elbows on my knees and tapped a finger against my lip, “So kind of a Robin Hood deal, right? Stealing things from the rich and giving it to the poor. In this case, the poor being those who never disappeared.” “Exactly, except the guy that knocked Torres out was strong. Too strong. I’m thinking they could be a part of-“ “The big three.” Sam’s neck snapped back, “How do you know about the big three?” I shrugged nonchalantly, “The little you do tell me about your avenging always ties back to either androids, aliens or wizards. Though I think you’re being a little dramatic with the term ‘wizard.’”

“Are you seriously gonna correct the guy who’s actually there doing the fighting?” “Are you seriously gonna deny yourself valuable help against either an alien or an android?”

Sam sighed, I was successfully backing him into a corner. “Can you even fight?”

Extending one hand, I levitated Sam and gently slammed his back into the ceiling before reversing course and lowering him onto the carpet. He moaned as he rolled over to face me, “Could’ve given me a concussion.” “Maybe that would knock some sense into your head,” I stood and gave him my hand to pull him up, “Sam, I know that I don’t have any experience but I am more than capable of defending myself. I want to actually do something with these powers instead of sitting on my ass. I’d rather do it with you than on my own. Please?” I watched the cogs in his mind turn through his eyes, I knew he was only fighting this hard because he wanted to keep me safe. But he was in way over his head if he thought it wasn’t worth taking me with. He accepted my hand and stood to his full height, “Pack a bag, we’re leaving for the air base in an hour.” I smiled and threw my arms around him, “Thank you, you won’t regret this.” “I’d better not,” he warned, his arms stayed straightened in displeasure of my enthusiasm, “If you take some stupid risk and put yourself in jeopardy, I’m putting your ass on a plane home.” Quick footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway until the door opened to reveal Sarah, “What was all that noise? It sounded like you were throwing each other into walls.” “Busy,” I quickly dismissed her, using my energy to shut the door in Sarah’s face from a distance.

“Um,” her muffled voice rang through, “What the hell was that?!”

--------

Taglist: (open)

[goddess-of-green]

More Tobi please !!! It’s so good 😫🙌 I love ur writing so much 😊

I'm running out of Tobi gifs you guys (Part 2 here!)

Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, submissive reader

"Yay! It must be Tobi's lucky day!" Tobi exclaimed as he threw down his cards—his winning cards.

You paled.

This generally wouldn't be such a problem.

Sure, Tobi was suspiciously good at Poker when he needed to be, but you never minded when he beat you by a landslide and proceeded to gloat until one of the other Akatsuki members had to shut him up.

Although, since you didn't really want to wager money on the game -your savings had been dwindling recently and you jumped at any opportunity to save some extra Ryo- you and Tobi decided to instead, make a bet.

If you won, Tobi would be at your beck and call for 24 hours; if Tobi won, you would be at his beck and call for 24 hours.

You knew such a bet could go either horribly wrong or horribly right.

However, you hadn't really let the implications of being at Tobi's beck and call hit you until you saw that winning hand.

Tobi was completely unpredictable and a known troublemaker.

He was always 'innocently' finding ways to insult people or taunt them. You were fairly sure he had some weird sadistic hobby to see how far he could bend people before they reacted violently.

You and Tobi had meshed so well in the organization because you were extremely patient and always reacted positively to Tobi's teasing and jabs.

After a while, Tobi seemed to realize that his taunting and teasing wouldn't make you upset, so he claimed you as his "best friend" and took to following you around in his freetime, you being the only one who could handle his overbearing and deliberately annoying nature.

Tobi loved to cause trouble and make fun of people. Despite his 'innocent' nature, you knew his humor was a little twisted at best.

What the hell did I get myself into?

Tobi was giggling like madman at your expression, a hand raised to where his mouth would be to ineffectively muffle his snickers.

"Y/N-Chan's time starts now! She has to be Tobi's maid for a whole day!" Tobi cheered, throwing his arms up into the air.

You blinked.

Maid?

Fuck.

"M-Maid?" You asked, already knowing that no matter what he responded with you were screwed.

Tobi giggled a bit more, "Yep! Tobi's even got Y/N-Chan a cute little outfit to wear while she does everything Tobi desires~" Tobi explained, his amusement coming off him in waves.

Maid? 'Cute little Outfit'? Tobi's desires!? God, help me.

You sighed, "Very well, Tobi."

"Actually, Y/N-Chan...there's something else Tobi would like you to call him~"

::

Here you are, dressed in a maid outfit.

A frilly black and white choker secured around your neck and your hair down, your top doing nothing to hide your cleavage, and your skirt giving you about two inches of leeway.

If you so much as bent over, your panties would be revealed to anyone in the vicinity. To top it all off, you had a white waist apron with little frills on the ends.

It covered even less than your skirt.

Kami, where did I go wrong? What did I do to deserve this?

Your internal lamenting is brought to halt as you hear Tobi cooing at you.

"Y/N-Chan~ you look so nice, all dressed up for Tobi like this~" He put his gloved hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him as he continued to inspect your form.

You swallowed, "Thank you, Tobi~Sama." You said softly, as he had requested you call him.

You blushed in embarrassment as you said it, unintentionally making yourself look even cuter as you looked up at him through your lashes, hoping he wouldn't make fun of you.

Tobi was unusually silent as he stared at your inadvertently coy expression. His hands still on your hips, and his expression unreadable through his mask.

After a moment, he started giggling.

"Y/N-Chan is such a good little maid for Tobi~ Tobi has a feeling he's going to enjoy this very much~" Tobi purred as he brought his arms up to wrap around your waist and buried his masked face into your neck; his body snuggling into yours in the process.

You gulped as his warm body encased yours.

Is it just me or is it a little hot in here?

You would have tugged on your collar if you had one.

Tobi pulled away from the embrace with excitement as he grabbed your hand.

"Alright Y/N-Chan, you're going to make some for lunch for your master, and then we're going to play a game~" Tobi said brightly, a teasing tone slipping through his usual beaming attitude.

Something about the way Tobi said "game" raised some flags, but you complied nonetheless.

You certainly didn't want to give Tobi a reason to punish you, as he had warned.

You shuttered at the implications.

He didn't mention or signal any sort of sexual things happening, but you could never be too careful. This entire situation was more than a little suspicious.

He's already made it clear he's got a pervy side, if the outfit was anything to go by.

You sighed lowly as Tobi's hand slipped from yours and he wandered off to wait in the living area of the base while you prepared him something to eat.

"It's too bad Tobi has his mask, or he would love to have Y/N~Chan feed him~" Tobi sighed wistfully as he walked off.

Clearly talking to himself, but you were sure he meant for you to hear.

You blushed at the thought, shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts as you continued on your way to the Akatsuki base's kitchen.

After you finally washed your hands and got to actually making something for Tobi, you ran into a little roadblock.

You had no idea what kind of food Tobi liked, or even if he had any allergies. He rarely ever ate around you, and when he did you tried not to stare at him too much and respect his privacy.

(Even though you were definitely curious as to what lied underneath his infamous orange mask.)

Even if you had paid attention, you doubt you would have caught much anyway.

Tobi is very sneaky when it comes to keeping his face hidden, and his food is off the plate and in his mouth faster than anyone can even tell what he was eating.

"He's so annoying all the time, yeah! The least he could do is let me catch a glimpse of his damn mug for once, un!"

You smirked as you recalled Deidara's ranting.

Remembering your situation, your smirk slipped away as you considered your options.

You could take a stab in the dark and make something that Tobi may or may not like, or you could go back out and ask Tobi what he wanted.

Neither were very good options.

If you took a wild guess then you would risk Tobi either not liking what you made or having an allergic reaction to it.

The last thing you wanted was to make Tobi sick or unhappy, but going back out to ask posed its own risks.

If you went out into the living room to ask Tobi what he wanted to eat then there was a good chance one of the other members would see you.

Then, they would ask questions.

You knew that Tobi wouldn't hesitate to embarrass you and go into great detail about how you were his cute little maid who would do anything to "satisfy" him.

Your face heated up in embarrassment just thinking about it.

You sighed, biting your lip as you ran through the pros and cons in your head.

You wilted after a moment, your morality winning the internal battle.

Discarding your dignity, and swallowing the last of your pride, you turned around to exit the kitchen and go find Tobi.

::

"But D-Deidara-Senpai! Tobi's not lying! He swears!" Tobi exclaimed, waving his hands around wildly as if that helped his case.

"Tch. Sure Tobi, un. You really expect me to believe that you got Y/N to be your maid?" Deidara scoffed.

It was then that you peaked from the hallway. Calling Tobi's name and desperately hoping that he was alone.

"Ah! Y/N-Chan! Impeccable Timing~!" Tobi said happily, Deidara snapping his head over towards you to see if Tobi really wasn't lying.

Uh oh.

Your face flamed as you tried to retreat back into the hallway, Tobi one step ahead of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into the living area for Deidara to see.

Deidara's eyes widened as he looked over your form, clad in a skimpy maid outfit complete with the lacy little headdress on top.

Deidara slowly but surely flushed, before turning to Tobi.

"I want in." Deidara said earnestly.

Your face flamed and you literally wanted to die in a hole of pitiful embarrassment.

Completely appalled, Tobi gasped quite dramatically at Deidara's words and pulled you close, as if protecting you. "Deidara-Senpai! You can't! Y/N-Chan is Tobi's maid! And Tobi doesn't think you would appreciate her like Tobi does!" Tobi said indignantly as he snuggled into your chest.

Good lord, you felt like your face was permanently pink today. From all this excitement you had nearly forgotten what you came out to ask-

"What?! Tobi! You can't keep her all to yourself like this! You're being selfish!" Deidara yelled.

"Nuh-uh senpai! Tobi won Y/N-Chan's free will fair and square! And why would Tobi share? This way she's all mine~" Tobi exclaimed, trailing off into a creepy giggle at the end.

It's like they're two kids fighting over a new toy... You sighed.

You blushed when you realized that you were the toy.

Before Deidara could fire back or you could finally ask what the hell Tobi wanted to eat, something awful happened.

Hidan walked in.

It took him five seconds to skim his eyes over your form, Tobi's face pressed into your chest and Deidara blushing... and burst into laughter.

"Pfft Hahahaha, what the hell kind of kinky shit is going on in here?" Hidan howled, bent over and holding his stomach from laughter.

Tobi hurriedly let go of you and turned around, putting his arms in front of you as if to hide you. "Nothing Hidan-Senpai! Y-You don't have all the information!" Tobi exclaimed, his slightly shaky voice not convincing anyone.

"Tch. Tobi got Y/N to be his maid, and he's keeping this opportunity all to himself!" Deidara scoffed, crossing his arms indignantly.

Interest piqued, Hidan walked over to you, promptly pushing Tobi out of the way and grabbing your jaw.

"His maid, huh? And just how'd he manage that...?" Hidan said, his voice quieter and more husky since he was so close to your face.

You tried to repress the shiver that threatened to crawl down your spine...Hidan had always creeped you out.

Before you could stutter out a response, you felt a stinging on your ass.

Oh my-

He pinched my ass!

You squeaked involuntarily and pushed Hidan off you, Deidara starting to fume as he realized what happened.

"Hey man! Don't touch her like that, un!" He exclaimed, though he probably wanted to do the same thing.

"Hidan!" Tobi gasped, rushing over to pick you up bridal style and cradle you in his arms.

"No one is allowed to touch Y/N-Chan like that! She is Tobi's!" He exclaimed, and you would have been happy for his defense if he didn't keep referring to you as 'his'.

Deidara and Hidan were now straight up fighting, Tobi's yelling falling on deaf ears.

The lewd things Deidara and Hidan were saying about you as they fought had you desperately hiding your burning face in Tobi's chest.

Tobi pet your hair in a soothing manner before running off, with you still in his arms.

"It's too dangerous out here with all the other members! Y/N-Chan will just have to serve Tobi in his room! Alone~"

Lunch completely forgotten, you worried for what was to come as Tobi carried you off, Deidara and Hidan still wrestling on the floor.

It was then that Kisame and Itachi walked in, just in time to hear Tobi's exclamation as they saw you being carried off by Tobi while Deidara and Hidan were rolling around the floor and pulling at each other's hair.

[yesimwriting]

Searing Starlight (chapter one)

SERIES SUMMARY: the most powerful inferni alive, raised to see herself as a god-in-the-making, the bastard of the barrel and his team, and a shadow summoner with a common goal. What could go wrong? The giant mass of darkness known as the shadow fold and y/n’s sense of humor. 

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Y/n is sent to hustle the Crow Club. Technically it’s not cheating, but Kaz Brekker isn’t the type to let people off on technicalities alone. Especially when the one that committed the offense could help him earn 1 million kruge. 

a/n just a little something based on the show bc IM OBSESSED :)) --I’m planning on making this a series so if you want to be tagged let me know :)

The candles flicker as Kenya's palm makes contact with my face. I used to cry after he hit me; I used to run to Anya’s room for comfort and my energy would became so irritated I snuffed out all the candles in the church. Now, I just stand there. You get punished worse for showing fear. Gods fear nothing, and that’s what he wants from us--to turn into Gods so that the heavens will owe him. 

“You risk us again and again!” 

The yelling is worse than the stinging of the slap. I make a point of keeping my palms flat; the candles of the room flicker as if feeling my restraint. “Watch yourself or the tidemaker you’re so fond of will feel my wrath instead of you. At least when I bruise his face it doesn’t cost me a night of revenue.” 

I want to point out that the men I trick in the pleasure district don’t care about bruises, but the reminder of Jace has me frozen in place. Jace is good. He doesn’t deserve this treatment. “It won’t happen again, Father Kenya.” 

He nods once, unsatisfied but growing bored. “Disappear from my sight before my flesh wins and I forget to show you mercy.” Kenya turns sharply, watching Anya’s stoic expression. “Anya--we’re in need of funding, take these coins and triple it by morning.” 

Anya’s lips part; I shake my head once, a subtle plea for her silence. “Father Kenya, y/n’s the most talented card player we have--if she comes with us we can bring five times what you’re going to give us.” 

The promise Anya makes is that of a fool, but I know I’m capable of it. People are easy to read when they’re drunk, they’re easy to trick and lie to. And drunk people exude the clearest energy, something about their bluffing is as tangible as fog to me. 

Kenya squeezes the drawstring bag between his violent fingers. He loathes me more than the others. He expects more from me. He’d lock me in the cellar if he could afford to. But he can’t--he knows what I’m capable of. 

“Go somewhere in the Barrel--somewhere that doesn’t ask questions if the money is good.” Kenya looks at me, the bruises on my arms and cheeks. “Clean yourself up beforehand.” 

I nod once, stomach rolling at the thought of going out and knotting at the thought of staying here. I keep my steps even as I approach Anya, grateful for the excuse to disappear behind the chapel’s doors. 

----

This club is louder than most, boisterous men drinking constantly, slurring their words and leaning over bars. I only smile when someone’s looking, tugging on the dress Anya picked for me subconsciously. 

“Relax, y/n,” Anya hums, “Men don’t understand they’re being hustled when someone pretty is the one swindling them, and you look hot.” 

A particularly drunk man walks by slowly, eyes reflecting no shame as he blatantly rakes his gaze down my form. I shift uneasily. “That might be the problem.” 

She tilts her head back, gaze focusing on the crow marking etched into the back wall of the club. A very strange and consistent crow theme in here. “Maybe you should keep the dress on until you run into Jace.” 

The mention of Jace in that context leaves my face warm. “Wha--what?” Great. I’m sputtering. “Shut up!” 

She laughs easily, “I’m only teasing--he’d probably ta--” 

“Anya!” 

Again, her laugh is loud and bright. “Kidding!” Before I can scorch her, she nods her head towards a gambling table. “An open seat--go, you know Kenya’ll have our heads if we don’t multiply this,” she tosses me the drawstring bag, I catch it awkwardly, “By five.” 

There are a lot of things I’ve ruined--but I never mess up when it comes to gambling. We’re all entitled to our talents and mine are destruction and trickery. “I’ll have six times this amount before midnight.” 

A little cocky, but it’s well deserved. I stroll up to the table easily, comforted by the fact that Anya’s only a few feet away. 

“You’re playing this round?” 

I smile politely, used to this kind of hesitance. “I think I’d like to try it.” The mock-hesitance in my voice burns coming up, but the dumber I seem the faster I make up my money. The rest of the participants snicker. Expected. I’m going to enjoy taking their money. “I can pay if that’s the issue.”

The sound of me fishing through the small bag of golden coins silences the men at a table. The man closest to me, the one with smooth brown skin and a smile I imagine has convinced many people to play into sins for him, leans forward slightly. I let him peek at the coins, the more they want my money the more they’ll believe my lies. 

“How much to enter?” 

A tall man snorts. I fight back the urge to glare. 

“Three of those coins should do.” The boy next to me is decent enough to answer. I’ll steal from him least. “I’m Jesper.” 

I’ve been to enough clubs to know when a man is attempting to find company for the night. I hope the playful niceness I see in him is real. “Kamil.” My sister’s name is salt water on my tongue. 

The first game is easy enough to throw. The second, I have to work at a little more--their smugness is killing me. I pretend to be ready to step away from the table.

“Where are you going?” 

I shrug at the stranger. “I shouldn’t lose any more money, my father won’t be happy with me as it is.” 

The stranger leans forward, glancing at his chips. “We don’t want a girl like you in trouble at home--why don’t we up the stakes? You win this next hand, and you’ll win double what I did.” He pauses, eyeing my drawstring bag, “Of course--you’ll have to be willing to risk a matching sum.” 

Awful odds. “Deep odds,” Jesper mumbles, “Consider cutting your losses.”

Jesper is a better person than the other men here. I almost feel bad he’s going to be losing any money. “One more game won’t kill me,” I smile as politely as I can manage, “Besides--my luck could be about to change and I’d never know.” 

I hand the coins over to the dealer. I watch as the money is shuffled onto the center of the table, suppressing the grin of someone about to release her killshot. Ten minutes later, I’ve doubled what I’ve lost. The man who upped the bet is gaping, Jesper’s expression has shifted entirely, and everyone’s staring at me like I’ve shifted into another person entirely. 

“Wow--luck really does change quickly here.” I’ve hooked them. They’ll want to play again, to prove that my victory was a fluke. “Do you guys want to play again? It only seems fair I give you a chance to win back everything you just lost since you did the same for me.” 

Everyone’s quick to agree, but I’m quicker to win the second round. Some men look murderous, some look ready to play again, their egos incapable of handling defeat at my hands. 

“You came in with a surprising amount of coins,” Jesper muses, reaching over to pick up a piece of gold that rolled towards him, “I hate to accuse you of counterfeiting, but one has to wonder.” 

Typical. “I swear my money’s real.” 

“Real money can take a bullet…” Is he going to shoot it...in doors? Jesper tosses the coin easily, letting it flip in the air before taking out a pistol and shooting it dead center in a movement so casually fluid and deadly I’m taken back. 

The coin clatters onto the table, the bullet embedded into the precious metal. I eye it cautiously, beyond relieved that Kenya at least doesn’t lie. “T-told you.” 

His eyebrows narrow as he reholsters his pistol. “About that, I guess you did.” 

Jesper’s skepticism is a red flag. I need to get out of here before my winnings are taken from me and Kenya kills me or Jace for my failure. “I didn’t take you for such a sore loser.” 

Before Jesper can respond, something black raps against the table once. “What did I tell you about loud noises at the table?” 

Jesper’s gaze leaves mine immediately. “Sorry boss, just checking a swindler.” 

He--he knows. I blink twice, forcing surprise to color my features. “Swindler?” I look between him and the man he called his boss. “N--no, it was just--luck. I played a hand, I lost some money, I played again and I won some money. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?” 

“You only started winning after the stakes were raised--I’ve seen that tactic before and it’s not appreciated here.” 

I swallow once, a pinch of dread making its way through my stomach. He had shot that coin with no hesitation--I didn’t even see him click off the safety. How dangerous is the man at my table? How dangerous is his boss? Everyone seemed to straighten at the sight of the stranger with the cane. 

“There was no tactic--it was a game.” 

The man I don’t know tears his gaze away from Jesper. “Someone like you shouldn’t even be here.” 

He has a point--my demeanor doesn’t exactly scream someone who frequents establishments at the Barrel during the night. “I’m only here to keep my friend out of trouble.” A fair enough response. “And I played a game and someone can’t handle a loss.”

“You should have seen her bluff, I’ve met professional thieves that lie less fluently than her.” 

At Jesper’s words, the stranger’s grip around his cane tightens. I imagine that beneath his gloves, the color of marred souls, his knuckles are white. “Who do you work for? Who sent a girl to invade my business?” 

Who do I work for? No one that has any business with him. “What?” How self absorbed can one man be? 

“If playing the fool didn’t get you through a card game--don’t think it will get you through this.” 

What? Before I can question him, Anya grabs my shoulder, pulling me so that there’s a safer distance between me and the man. 

“You’re an idiot,” her whisper is pointed, directed solely at me. “Of course you’d find trouble with Dirtyhands.” Did I hear that correctly? Dirtyhands--as in the Dirtyhands? I stare at her, eyes wide. How had I been so stupid? I should have recognized him from his gloves alone. Anya turns her head towards them. “We don’t want any trouble--forgive my friend, she’s not a spy she’s just an oblivious idiot.” 

“Rude.” 

She throws me a glare. “But she did win.” The money isn’t worth the trouble we’ll find trying to keep it but Kenya’s words follow us wherever we go. “We’ll take what we earned and never come back.” 

“I don’t concede often.” 

I reach for Anya’s arm, brushing her forearm in hopes of telling her things will be okay. Kaz Brekker may be feared, but we’re gods in the making. “Neither do we.”

He seems to want to play at an odd, power-filled standstill, but Anya and I are more desperate than him. Anya leans forward, ready to take the money from the table, but the unidentified man who upped the stakes earlier is quick to grab her forearm. 

“I don’t take losses, little girl.”

Anya. I can only imagine the horror she feels when a strange man touches her. Screw precaution. “Is that money worth burning for?” 

“Y/n.” Anya’s warning comes out low; Jesper raises an eyebrow. I guess being Kamil was short lived. 

“Excuse me?” 

The man will not intimidate me. Fear is a crutch men use to keep women in check. “You heard my question.” I hold up my hand, releasing enough energy to develop a flame in my palm. “And if your answer is ‘no’, I suggest you release my friend before your body is nothing more than a pile of ash your own mother wouldn’t even be able to identify.” 

The stranger blinks, touches the gun on his hip, and then releases Anya’s arm. 

“You can’t come into my club, hustle money away from my men, and walk away unscathed because you’re a grisha.” 

Words cannot express how badly I do not want to speak to Kaz Brekker at any point in my life. His grip on his cane is a silent warning--a threat. But what is a man’s threat to a girl that’s meant to be a god? “You can kill me but I’ll use my dying breath to burn this entire building.” I’ve publicly backed him into a corner--I’m insane. 

Dirtyhands opens his mouth to reply, anyone within earshot holding on for his next words. Anya yanks me back as the sound of something explosive interrupts the room. A bullet flies past directly where I was standing and strikes the wall behind me. Anya just saved my life. Someone just shot at me. 

“Y/n, do you think it’s--” 

“No.” It can’t be. There’s no way a soldier found me again. “It can’t be--we were--we’ve been careful--and Kenya said they wouldn’t look for me--that he purchased me fully.” 

A man is moving through the crowd. A blue kefta. No. No. 

Not here. Not now.

And why are they shooting at me? “Anya,” I breathe out as cautiously as possible, “Run and no matter what don’t turn around.” 

“I’m not leaving you.” 

Anya. Always the older sister. “They don’t want you--they want me.” 

“You’re not a real Sun Summoner--it’s suicide for you.” 

I don’t have the heart to tell Anya I don’t particularly care about my life. It’s never truly been mine anyway. “I’ll make it out.” 

“You’re an inferni, not a miracle worker.” 

My lips pull into an odd sort of grimace. The gentle kind one hopes is mistaken for a smile. “I thought we were meant to be gods.” 

“A god can’t do what they want from you.” She mumbles. “So you’re capable of producing more fire than most--it’s not the same as creating light. It doesn’t matter how many drugs they pump into you it’s--” 

I shake my head once, “Anya--go.” 

“They want you to play Sun Summoner.” Dirtyhand’s tone is too smooth to trust. I know when someone’s trying to sell dreams that don’t exist. “The way they’ll have you do it will cost you, but the way I’ll have you do it will be practically painless.”

Is he always this confusing? “What?” 

The question is an irritation, that’s apparent in the cold tint that takes over his practically blank expression. “I need a Sun Summoner for a business deal--and lucky for you I’m out of time.” 

“You don’t want to work with me.” 

“No,” his voice is dismissive, he didn’t understand I meant that as a warning, “But I need to have some form of mass light before sunrise.” 

“The man I’m indentured to will never go for it.” Proposing such an idea would leave me with a broken rib again. 

Dirtyhands nods once, a vague acknowledgement. “That’s not your problem.” I keep my jaw set, scanning at the crowd for a flash of that blue kefta. “After all, it wasn’t his problem when he hurt you.” 

I had been careful to hide the bruises. The reminders of my humanity. My weaknesses, my failures, written onto my skin in purple and blue ink. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I didn’t until I got that reaction.” I’ve never so quickly felt the need to loathe someone. “It was easy enough to assume--young girl, desperate for money, a grisha powerful enough to be hunted down.” 

Is that supposed to be some sort of consolation? “My freedom would never come so easily.” 

“It wouldn’t be freedom--you’d owe me more than you already do for the kruge scam.” 

I swallow before I can make the mistake of telling him I’d consider any escape from Kenya freedom. “Close enough.” 

The grisha’s closer now, the light blue kefta so easy to spot amongst a sea of darkness. “You’re running out of time.” 

“Can you get my friend out?” 

“Y/n.” She can be mad for the rest of her life if she wants. 

He nods his head once. “She’ll be out the back before anyone knows she was even here.” 

“And she can take the money I won.” Maybe the income will be enough to spare her from Kenya’s wrath. “That’s a dealbreaker.” 

Kaz Brekker hesitates. It’s such a normal pause I almost think it’s a trap. “If she takes it there will be no way out for you--you will do what I ask even if it endangers your life.” 

“Y/n, it’s not worth it.” 

I don’t look at Anya. “You have my word.” 

“Y/n, I’m not taking anything and I’m not leaving you.” 

I finally turn. “Don’t be a self-sacrificing idiot--it’s not in your nature and frankly it doesn’t suit you.” Acts of goodness towards me have always left me feeling raw. Too raw. Like I’m bleeding out. “Sorry, I just…” Anya’s eyes are soft. She knows. She always knows. “I’ll get through whatever it is he’s planning and I’ll come back.” I swallow once, nerve draining from my body slowly. “Take the money--Kenya will be angry enough as is.” 

Anya drops her gaze as she collects from the table. It takes me a moment longer than it should to recognize this is shameful for her. I consider telling her that she’s doing the right thing, but that would burn her heart more. 

“You’re my sister,” Anya’s voice is lower than it’s ever been, “I should have stopped him.” 

Her guilt hurts more than the bruises. “You were as hurt as me--you have nothing to feel guilty about.” 

This is already more emotion than we’re used to expressing when alone let alone around others. Anya stretches out an arm, squeezes my shoulder once, and then takes a step back. “I’ll see you again.” 

“Yes,” I nod once.

“Jesper, take the girl out the back.” Turning forward blankly, Kaz begins to speak to me, “Hide behind the bar--my wraith will find you and take you somewhere else.” 

“Y--you have a wraith?” And I thought Kenya was weird. He lets out a sigh. “Sorry. Not the time.” 

“Desperation leads to bad decisions.” 

Dramatic. “I agree.” 

His gaze falls on me, taking in my narrow-eyed glare. There’s a moment in which I think the left corner of his mouth twitches upwards, but then he turns his head again. A trick of the light. “Go before you’re found and I’m out the money I let your friend take.” 

Yes. I’m not exactly safe right now, but Kaz Brekker needs me for something. That means I will not be leaving this building. By force or willingly. 

Silently, I turn, melting into those in the crowd that are either oblivious or don’t care enough to react to the cat and mouse game I’m currently in. When I reach the bar, I’m quick to duck behind it, pressing my back against shelves of alcohol. 

[san-fics]

The secret I know

Ladynoir, Adrianette, Ladrien, Marichat

Part 1

“I love Chat Noir.”

She didn’t even mean to say it out loud. It was just a natural conclusion of the stream of thoughts and feelings, that haunted Marinette in the last weeks. Maybe months.

She didn’t know when and how exactly it happened. Probably it was inevitable. When that strong and kind person stays close to you as long as Chat did. When his warm and protective nature is so obvious. When his brave and fearless habits are so irresistible. When he declares his love to you and calls you the lady of his dreams...

“I knew there was something different in the way you were with Adrien last time.” Alya nodded with an understanding smile. “Like really. From the moment I’ve got to know your identity, I was expecting one of my ships to sail any moment!”

“I mean. It feels so natural. I can’t even remember the moment when it wasn’t there.” Marinette sighed. “With him I feel safe, even fighting for my life. He knows all my weaknesses and is still there for me. And he loves me.” She looked at her friend with eyes full of tears. “And I didn’t believe he could love me without knowing who I am, but his mask didn’t stop me either.”

“Hey-hey.” Alya patted her on the shoulder. “This is good news, girl. You both deserve it, you know?”

“We can’t be together though.” Marinette was looking through the window with unseeing gaze now. “I can’t even tell him, because of how dangerous it would be...”

“Why would it be dangerous?” Alya turned Marinette’s head to face her again. “He loves you and it only helps him to fight for you better. Why do you think it should be different for you?”

“That’s exactly the point, Alya.” Marinette sighed again. “He fights for me. I fight for the city.” She shook her head. “The moment I let my feelings take a hold of me during a fight, I’ll forget about people. I’ll only think about his safety. And Shadow Moth will win.”

“I don’t think it’s all so one-sided.” Alya offered. “He is a part of the city. Of the people.” She hugged her friend tight. “Just give yourself some time to process it. You just realized your feelings, right? I’m sure it can’t be a bad thing. It’ll only make you stronger, once you’re ready to fully accept them.”

“I don’t know, Alya. I don’t feel like lying to myself about my feelings, but Chat... He doesn’t know about the bad things that may happen... And then there’s Adrien. I feel more like a friend to him right now, but I’d prefer to be completely over him before even thinking of starting something with the most important person in my life...”

“As much as I love our Sunshine-boy and all, let’s be real: Chat is much better fit for you. Adrien is too nice, too soft to handle you.”

“I don’t know. I still think Adrien is perfect. But now I can see Chat is perfect too...” Marinette’s eyes lit up with adoration. “His sense of humor, his courage, he is able to give me a hope in the darkest moments. He never stops believing. In me. And in us too... I think, at some point I just believed in it as well...”

“You guys are so sweet.” Alya rolled dreamy eyes. “I mean, like Adrinette is nice and all, but Ladynoir... it’s deep, it’s hot, it’s powerful. I can feel the energy of your bond so vivid, like you two are just meant to be.”

Marinette sighed for a hundred time that day.

“Let’s go back to school.” She called. “The lunch is nearly over.”

*

Adrien was upset.

Instead of being transformed and getting ready for the fight within the first sounds of the akuma alarm, he was following his classmate in his civilian form.

Marinette, smart and caring, the class president, of all people, should have known to stay far from the danger, instead of getting closer to where an akumatised villain was tearing the walls apart.

Maybe Alya convinced her to get some footage for the Ladyblog? But where was the crazy journalist herself then? And no, Marinette was first to trying and convince her friend to abandoned the dangerous path...

Adrien’s train of thought was suddenly cut off when he turned the corner after following Marinette and instead saw Ladybug (LADYBUG!!) zipping up the building at the end of the ally.

Adrien stopped.

For the first few moments his brain refused functioning.

He stared blandly at the end of the alley, from which his fighting partner had just zipped to the roof.

Exact sciences have always been close to Adrien. And yet, the task his brain was trying to solve at the moment did not give in to him.

Task conditions: One cute classmate, let’s call her M, enters the alley with a dead end, and one superhero, let’s call her L, leaves the ally after a few seconds after that.

Question: what is the likelihood of character M and character L to be the same character?

Note: cute? Since when did he think Marinette was cute?

Answer:

The loud sound of crashing walls brought Adrien from his thoughts, or rather, the absence of them.

“Akuma!” He exclaimed, in attempt to wake himself up from what ever state the last few minutes brought him. “Plagg, claws out!”

*

“Chat!” Her yoyo were already rubbed around his body, and Ladybug pulled her partner fast from the akuma’s attack. “What is wrong with you today?!” She cried at him, when she caught him and put at his feet.

But there were no usual anger in her voice. All Chat Noir could hear was concern and care. Was she always soft and deep like this? Or does he feel it only now that he knows it’s the sweet Marinette who wears the mask?

“I uh...” Chat Noir felt his cheeks warming. “I was distracted... Sorry, LB.” He swallowed, preparing to hear the lecture about being concentrated while on duty.

But it didn’t follow.

Instead, Ladybug’s face softened even more. She placed her palm on his shoulder in support and nodded.

“It’s ok, Chat.” She gave him a short encouraging smile. “We all have our moments. Just stay behind me until you’re able to collect yourself.”

And Ladybug zipped away toward the akuma, leaving Chat Noir even more confused and blushed under his mask.

[Part 2]

[more MLB fanfic]

[todomochi-uwu]

Of Unspoken Troubles & Loving You (3/3)

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader

Warnings: Angst

Author’s Notes: Done.

"Don't worry, Toshi. We'll be okay."

Previous parts: First Second Second&Half

Tension filled the entire gymnasium, you could feel it, the players could feel it, the rest of teams could feel it, everyone was gathering around the court, watching as each of the teams gave out their best to try and beat the other.

Anxiety ran through your veins, your shoulders were tense and the need to vomit was becoming more prominent each second it passed, you knew damn well you might have caused all this stupid rivalry, and while an outsider might see it as an over-exaggeration, the thought of someone getting hurt was throwing you over the edge. You could see the face of each and every single one of the boys, you could see the desperation, the nerves, the tiredness; and you couldn't help but pity them, there was nothing left to say, there was no way to convince them, it just simply would be stupid to do it.

The ball flew by leaving each court, points were given and groans let out, sweat covered their entire faces and their breathing so heavy it could be heard across the room; it was already the third set and none of the teams had asked for a time out, no one was giving up. It wasn´t until the mandatory rest at the half of the set that you could finally approach the boys.

"Hey boys, please take it easy. I don't want anyone getting hurt, okay? Please remember this is only a practice match, nothing to lose here." You try and calm them up, passing out water bottles, just as you were making sure everyone was okay, the rigidness of a chest crossed your way.

You looked up and couldn´t help but get flustered at the sight, Ushijima's breathing was heavy and sweat drops ran down his face, he sported the same stoic face as always but the look in his eyes was trying to tell you something, he longed for something and you knew what it was, wondering if you should give in and just comfort him, but once again the words 'Manager, not captain' filled your thoughts, and suddenly the urge washed away. "You are giving your best Ushijima san, but remember not to overwork it, Washijou wouldn´t like for you to pull a muscle." Patting his shoulder, you made your way to the rest of the team.

You were helping Tendou bandage his fingers, which were now red and bloated from all the blocking he had done, every time you would pass the bandages around them he would let out a small hiss, "You know, he didn't mean to be an asshole, he´s sorry for what he did." Tendou mumbled, making you frown "I see, so that´s why you are here apologizing for him." Tendou tried again, "Y/N…" "No, Tendou. I'm more than tired." You got up, finishing the last touches and going next to make sure Goshiki was okay.

-

The rest of the match was even worse, Kenma could barely breath and the look that covered Kuroo's face was one of pure frustration, the board wasn´t looking good for his team, 24-19, and while they had managed to win a set, he didn't think they could get away with the victory.

And while they tried their very best, in the end, it wasn't enough.

Everything was over, and while everyone seemed satisfied enough that the match was over, Kuroo couldn't help as if he had to prove himself to you. Feeling ashamed that even at this moments, Ushijima had managed to surpass him.

"Good job, guys!" You came running with towels and a box full of energy drinks, making sure everyone had one, even Nekoma. After reassuring all of them were okay, you spotted a very tired man sitting by the benches, head low, covered by a white towel and gasping for air still. Kuroo.

You approached him slowly, not wanting to startle him, "Hi." Your voice was small, not knowing how he would react.

He raised his head, the look in his eyes said everything, "Hey."

Few minutes passed by, no one knew what to say next.

"I knew that maybe we didn't stand a chance, but this is a new kind of humiliation." He giggled humourlessly.

"Kuroo…" You tried, before he continued, "I'm not mad at you, it would be stupid to be. I just can't believe that asshole has absolutely everything right in front of his fucking nose and yet he doesn't seem to care." He shook his head, desperation filling his veins, clouding his vision. "Fuck this." He got up and the process he kicked the bench next to him, making his way down the gym.

"Kuroo?" You followed him, worried for what he might do.

His pace didn't stop or faltered, his eyes screamed in fury and his body language indicated only one thing if Ushijima wasn't going to realize by himself how lucky he was, maybe he would have to give him a clue.

Meanwhile, you kept trying to stop him, reason with his logic and the thoughts that fogged his mind, but nothing worked, he was determined to do something.

"Ushijima!" The raw voice filled the hallway, making the miracle boy turn around. His features hardened at the sight of you behind Kuroo; he didn't say anything but didn't back down. "You are a fucking jerk, are you aware of that?"

Nothing you could say or do would change the current situation.

"You. You fucking idiot." His finger pointed directly, coming closer every second. "You have absolutely everything I have been killing myself for, you are monster in volleyball, we get it, but you also got her?" This time the attention was directed at you, making you uncomfortable, "And yet you dare ignore her and treat her like a piece of shit. Who the fuck do you think you are?" He couldn't hold back anymore, pushing his hands against Ushijima's chest, he kept going, not worrying about the consequences, "You don't deserve it, you don't deserve the love she's giving you." The final straw, "And for that, I'll make sure you don't get any more of it."

Snap.

Everything seemed so blurry, one moment to another Ushijima was on top of the middle blocker, punches flying everywhere, curses and threats were thrown and terror swallowed your heart.

Tendou and Reon trying to hold back Ushijima while Bokuto and Lev tried to do the same for Kuroo, it had finally blown up and you couldn't help but feel responsible.

Coaches surrounded the boys, dragging them apart and lecturing them in what just had happened; feeling completely useless you made your way outside, trying to clear your thoughts.

Was all of this necessary? Ushijima might be oblivious and blunt, but you loved him; he was also having a hard time and you knew it, yet decided to go on.

And what about Kuroo? Why did you have to get him involved in your mess? He was doing more than okay, yet you were selfish enough and dragged him.

If it was love, whatever you seemed to be in, why was it so difficult to feel happy? It surely shouldn't be like this, you should be able to communicate all your worries to Wakatoshi, it should not be this difficult, and to this, you worried. Was Ushijima the real problem here, or was there something more to it?

-

Making your way down to the nursery's office, know full well Ushijima and Kuroo would be there, not being quite ready to face them, not knowing what to say or how to act, you just knew you had to see them.

Sitting down on a bench next to the door was Kuroo, he was holding an ice pack to his right cheek and small bandages covered his lips along with some cream covering the small bruises in his nose. The sight of his face alone made your heart feel even heavier. "Hey, cry baby." He mumbled.

"Hey." You sat down, trying to find the right words. "You look like shit." God, why are you like this?

"Yeah? You should see what I did to him." He said lazily, "He doesn't punch as hard as I think he would, do you think he was holding back?" He smirked, before wincing out in pain.

"I am sorry."

He gave you frown, "Why?"

"I dragged you into all this mess, and now you are hurt. It was my mess to deal with and I involved you in it, for that I am sorry."

"You didn't do anything, I decided to be here and while I didn't expect it to turn out this way, I'm glad." He gave you a reassuring smile, cracking a little bit when the pain kicked in once again.

"You are a moron."

He giggled, "Yeah I might be, but I also know about who feels like an even bigger idiot." He sighed, "We had a little bit of a talk, and turns out he is aware of the problem; he owns it completely and is willing to try to make things better, but…"

He hesitated.

"I'm not sure about what you want."

You sighed, shaking your head "To be quite honest I don't know. I mean, I still love him, he's not a bad person and I'm sure he still loves me, but…"

"But…"

"But I'm not sure if it's the best thing to jump into it right away, maybe we should go back a few steps, you know?"

"I completely understand, and I know he will too. Just talk to him, he loves you enough to give you time and space, or to let you go if that's what you want."

Nodding, "I don't want him out of my life."

"And that won't happen but for now tell him how you feel, it'll be okay."

…

"Hey, Kuroo?"

"Yeah?"

"When we first met, you talked about going through the same situation, care enough to explain?"

"Fuck, I did talk about that huh? Well, let's just say I was taken for granted, treated like shit and I went through this spiral of lies and obsessive thoughts that emotionally destroyed me, that made me doubt myself, my friends and every single thing I believed in." He rubbed his hands, looking out the ground, "When I got out of it I felt so empty and dead on the inside I genuinely considered never dating again; it might sound like an overreaction, but I was so numb to the entire world I didn't think love was worth anything. And then, someone came in and made me realise that maybe, just maybe it wasn't my fault, it was my abuser's fault, that I wasn't at fault for giving my all to someone who just drained me, they helped me and now here we are." He looked into your eyes, "Sometimes I wonder if the trauma would have healed faster if they had appeared while I was still in that hell, instead of after. That´s why I felt the urge to help you, and while Ushijima is nowhere an asshole as my ex was, you were hurting and I hated seeing it."

"Kuroo…" Tears filled your eyes, threatening to fall.

"Oh common, please don't cry, I'm on the other side now and everything's okay."

"Do I know them?"

"Huh let's see, they are just as weird as you, but a little bit less annoying I guess." You groaned in annoyance, "I'm kidding, but yes you do know them."

"Aren't you going to tell me?" Before you could continue complaining the nursery's office door opened, and here he was, the giant, buffed, airheaded man you called your boyfriend.

Standing up you met his gaze, there was no coldness in it, no hate, no malice, just pure longing and regret, and your hurt couldn't help but clench. Taking his hand in between yours, you caressed it, making him shiver.

"Don't worry, Toshi. We'll be okay."

…

"So you want to break up?" He furrowed his eyebrows, his hands felt clammy and his breathier became a bit quicker.

"Not quite like that, I think we jump into a relationship way too quickly, we barely even knew each other and even if we have been in this for some months now, we are not working out as we should."

"I will try harder, I swear," He mumbled.

"And I know you will, I trust you to do it, but how about we make our priorities the things we love right now? Like you win those nationals and I focus on getting into university?"

"I didn't know having me impeded your education."

"It's not, but I want to know what's like to look out only for me, to know I'm not chasing anyone, just for a little while."

He nodded, didn't say a word for a few minutes, "I am sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel as if you were chasing me. I missed my chance and I understand it. Know that I still love you and will keep on doing it, and I respect your decision of letting things between us end." He vowed and turned around, not sure how to processed what just happened.

"Ushijima." "Yes?" Locking your arms around his waist, looking straight into his eyes and caressing the side of his face, "I am not letting you go, I can't. This is just for me to be able to heal, but I still love you Wakatoshi, please don't forget that."

His arms surrounded your waist, leaning his head against the crook of your neck and nodding, his body shaking slightly "Okay."

Tags: @samanthaa-leanne @missalienqueen @anime-weeb-bnha @minnieminnie00-got7 @ama-suhen @iiwah @saeranoppa @4ambagelbites @sunaswife @puma-d-a @lionhearteddame @ix-elastix @dudejuststop @pruemania @salty4tsukki @wonderblogger @animexholic @kenmascateyes @aralynxo @decaffeinatedcheesecakemiracle @tsibba01 @softkookyy @nnessworls @xxitsaeonxx @hallothankmas @sinex @shinhiromi @killuaking @icedberrytea @foreverdebbie​ @nati-08​ @amoursa​ @lilolpotato​big @bigtitmisfit​ @itzgabz22​ @holographicwriter​ @aonenthusiast​ @flmshneverbreaks​ @yeolliedokai​ @cyber3lf​ @lyrxbz​ @nikkiandherrandomshits​ @josieveli​ @ryk-iok​ @lueurdeespoir​ @vee-77​ @keiwaii @katxsukishima​ @sweetpeas-serpentprincess​ @russiankgbspecialagenta​ @decaffeinatedcheesecakemiracle​ @ilhy2003​ @psionic-s​ @feifood​ @katsukispointyhair​ @amoursa​ @crystal-lilac​ @uwu4ushijima @crescenttooru @cuddlesslut​

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Where There’s a Whill, There’s a Windu

Context: original post, chrono

(Summary of the AU: Disaster lineage got tossed back in time. Anakin stayed 21-ish, but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka got deaged, took new names for time-travel reasons (Ylliben and Sokanth, or Ben and Soka) and have been officially adopted by Anakin.)

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

“You’re attached.”

“You’re just now noticing?”

Master Windu eyes him for a few long moments, and then joins him on the ground. Anakin can’t help but smirk. There’s something gratifying about having respect from the man, in this life.

“The other members of the council are concerned.”

“And you aren’t?”

“I am, but for other reasons,” Windu says.

Anakin doesn’t meet his eyes, doesn’t even respond for a long minute. He just looks out over the Room of a Thousand Fountains, spread out below them like hundreds of jungles pieced together in a jigsaw of flora. It’s been his favorite room in the Temple since he was a child, and it’s always overwhelming.

“Most of them have accepted that you adopted them because of Mandalorian customs, and that you stayed where you were due to the will of the Force,” Windu continues. “But they are… uncomfortable with how blatantly your attachments show.”

“Mandalorians are loud and refuse shame. It rubbed off.”

“You said you would kill for these children.”

“I’m their father. That’s kind of expected.”

Windu’s expression is tired. A little tired of stress, but mostly tired of Anakin’s shit. “You know what I’m trying to get at.”

“Do I?”

“Skywalker.”

“No, I’m serious. I need you to spell this out. I’ve had a million slightly-contradicting lectures on this topic, and I’ve been told pretty clearly that I misinterpreted a solid half of them. If you want a constructive conversation, you can’t be vague. I’m thirty-three years old and a father of two, Master Windu, so yes, I’m attached. What you mean by that word is going to change where this conversation goes.”

It’s gratifying to see the Master actually think it over.

“Ylliben’s tattoos have been causing the most recent stir,” Windu finally says. “They nearly all relate to family, whether new or old, and the symbolism is concerning to those who are already upset about the Mandalorian upbringing. They worry that he’ll remain too tied to people he grew up with, and unable to maintain neutrality in future diplomatic ventures, or at risk of a fall if one of the people he’s seen fit to memorialize is injured or killed. The assume a similar state of mind may be applicable to your daughter and yourself, especially given the off-color jokes about how possessive your children are about each other.”

“They’re worried about emotional immaturity,” Anakin summarizes. He offers a wan, unimpressed grin. “They do realize he’s fourteen, right? Nobody’s emotionally stable at fourteen. The hormones are out of whack.”

“I’m aware,” Windu grinds out. “And I’m aware that your histories, of war and all such things, make your ties much stronger, but you can see why the Council worries, especially those who are wary of the memories your children carry but won’t explain. I’m the only one you’ve told, Skywalker.”

“Plo and Depa know.”

“Plo and Depa aren’t on the council.”

“Yet.”

“Skywalker.”

He relents. “It’s not about Mandalore, Master Windu. It’s about Tatooine.”

Windu lets that sit for a few moments, and then sighs. “I don’t know enough about Tatooine to parse that.”

“Shmi and I are former slaves,” Anakin says, as bluntly as he can. “I was freed at nine, she at eleven, and for all that we are free, we’re not freeborn. We were born slaves, and raised slaves, and we were freed too late to forget that life. The way we think is always going to be affected by the way we grew up. That applies to all sentients, more or less, but it’s… the slave mentality is completely at odds with Jedi teachings, because Jedi teachings can only be taught in a safe environment.”

Windu nods slowly, and says, “That does make sense, but it’s… forgive me, but that’s why we don’t normally take children older than four.”

“From the perspective of teaching cultural values, that makes sense,” Anakin allows. “Teaching a Jedi child that’s cared for with communal resources that they do not need material things to be happy is fine; trying to convince a slave child of the same, someone who grew up being told they do not deserve material things, and that their owner can take anything at any time, including family? I lived that life, trying to adjust to ascetic Jedi values that coincided poorly with slave rules. I know exactly how poorly that transition can go when the person caring for the child doesn’t know how to handle the points of conflict.”

“Do you regret joining the Jedi?” Windu asks.

Anakin shakes his head. “My Jedi master, bless him, cared, and tried very hard, but he wasn’t ready to handle a kid like me and in hindsight, I know that. He needed grief counseling, and I needed therapy, and neither of us was getting it. I don’t… I don’t believe anyone in the Temple would have known how to handle a kid like me.”

“But you don’t regret it.”

“I was meant to be a Jedi,” Anakin says, as firmly as he can without getting unnecessarily bitchy about it. “My struggles with the Code aside, I was meant to be here. But the Temple doesn’t have any resources for children who come older, and I think… I think you do need that.”

“You just outlined why a child can’t follow the Code if they come from a different enough background,” Windu says.

Anakin shakes his head. “No, that’s not—I think a kid like me can learn to be a Jedi, if a little unconventional, if they’re taught correctly. The desperation to cling to anyone and anything you have can be unlearned. It takes time and effort, but it’s possible. Soka and Ben are good at balancing Tatooine care with Jedi control. If you talk to Ben, you get an entire philosophical breakdown about it, but I’m more concerned with the child psychology, because that’s what could have broken me.”

Windu frowns. “You’re building up to something.”

“I think the Jedi need programs for children found older who can’t become full Jedi,” Anakin asserts. “Even those who cannot reconcile what they absorbed growing up with the Code and Jedi tradition… they, we, need guidance. The Council tried to reject me for being too old, and now that I’m grown I understand why, but… Master Windu, what do you think would have happened to me if I hadn’t had my Master to fight for me, and had been turned away?”

“We’d have looked into placing you back with your mother and, upon finding out that she was still enslaved, secured her freedom,” Master Windu says. “Qui-Gon Jinn had taken responsibility for you, and thus you were a ward of the Temple until such a time as you were safe again. It would have been cruel to keep you from your mother if we were not to raise you a Jedi, and crueler still to allow you to return to slavery.”

“And you think I’d have been safe with her?” Anakin asks. He needs Master Windu to understand this. “You think that would have ended well?”

“You don’t?”

“Ventress,” Anakin says. “Maul. Aurra Sing, even.”

Windu considers that. He looks across the grand, green room of the garden, and finally speaks. “You think you’d have been found and corrupted by a Sith.”

“I’d already helped Naboo win a battle. I was a powerful child with no support system in this respect, eager to please,” Anakin says. “Ventress and Maul both got twisted into Sith Apprentices. Aurra Sing was just a bounty hunter, but… even if the Jedi had never found me, and the Sith remained unaware, do you think I’d have ended up better than Sing? Or would the pressures of slavery have led to my Fall anyway, eventually slaughtering my owner, the Hutts, the entire system of Tatooine’s hells?”

Windu rubs a hand over his forehead. “I understand what you’re getting at.”

“It’s not just me,” Anakin says, as carefully as he can. “Even without the Sith, there are plenty of Force-Sensitive children in terrible situations that are liable to Fall just because of how power is wielded by those at the bottom. Refusing to take on students who are already at risk… the Jedi are meant to monitor Force users to prevent Sith and other dark-aligned people from harming the galaxy. It’s one of our primary duties. If the Jedi are allowing darksiders to rise just because of an age limit…”

“I get it,” Windu says, just a little aggressive. “I understand. Give me a minute.”

Anakin tries to wait. He’s older now, he can do that. He can be patient.

He tries to convince himself that it’s true.

“You have a point,” Master Windu finally allows. “And with the knowledge that the Sith are out there, still, it’s a more salient point than most would think. The EduCorps already has a subdivision for teaching meditative techniques to low-level force users who need to learn shielding but aren’t sensitive enough to be Jedi, or are just too old, but I see your point about encouraging a program for powerful Force-Sensitives that aren’t discovered early enough to integrate into the community in full.”

“And a more comprehensive Search pattern for the Outer Rim?” Anakin suggests. He shrugs at the look he gets. “What? You’ve seen my midicount. I was on Tatooine for almost a decade, and the only reason anyone found me was that Qui-Gon had to crash a ship in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure the Force led him to me, given all the coincidences, but that’s still a solid nine years that nobody did, despite how I apparently ‘shine like the sun’ or whatever.”

“Humble.”

“The last time I took a midichlorian test on a portable counter, it literally broke the device. That’s not arrogance, that’s just absurd.”

Windu looks exhausted by the comment. Anakin can’t bring himself to feel too bad about it.

“What about Jedha?” Anakin suggests instead. “Jedi find the kids, but if they’re too old to be Jedi, we could coordinate with one of the temples at Jedha to see about having them raised in the traditions of the Whills? They’re a little less orthodox, aren’t they?”

“In some respects,” Master Windu says. “More constrained in others, but… it’s a possibility. Most of the overlooked children, yourself included, are from parts of the Outer Rim that aren’t part of the Republic, Skywalker.”

Anakin shrugs. “And many of them would have been happy to be found and collected by a Jedi, even if they couldn’t become Jedi. Not the Dathomiri, since they’ve got their own thing going on, but… from what I know about Ventress, she actually did have a Jedi Master before the situation on Rattatak became… what’s the word… untenable? He died and she was left alone, and she’d been a slave already and it just… did not end well for her. But that was a planet overrun by pirates and warlords, and would have been approved as a planet the Jedi could help without it being a weird colonialism thing… if the Senate weren’t made up of cheapskates, at least.”

“Skywalker.”

“My name isn’t actually a reprimand, you know.”

“You’re not supposed to just say that,” Windu groans, running a hand over his face. “The Senate’s choice in funding is not optimal, but insulting them in that way, even in private—”

“They’re assholes,” Anakin says, and doesn’t let his humor show. “Except my late wife, but she’s not part of the Senate in this time, so I feel no shame in accusing the entire shitshow of being cheapskates.”

Windu looks about ready to push him off the ledge.

“You’re never allowed to go on diplomatic missions, are you?” Windu mutters.

“Unless it’s to Mandalore,” Anakin clarifies. “Also, never send me to Tatooine. Ever. Please. I kriffing hate that planet.”

“I’m going to assume you have plans to kill a Hutt if we ever send you to—”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Windu sighs. “I’ll discuss this with the Council, see how they feel about reaching out to Jedha for your suggestion regarding the Whills.”

“And you’ll tell them not to worry about my kids?”

“Skywalker, they are never going to stop worrying about your family,” Windu tells him.

“That’s fair.”

[lavenderjacobs]

fluff alphabet - Sapnap

➳ wc; 2,1K (she’s a long one lol)  ➳ pronouns; gender neutral<3 ➳ song reccomendation; heart eyes - coin

A=Attractive (What do they find most attractive in a partner?)

nick’s an ass guy and you can’t convince me otherwise. he’s also just loves your thighs and your stomach. he loves how soft your skin is, and how good you smell. whenever he’s sad he just rests his head on your stomach while you tangle you fingers in his hair. 

B=Best memory (Their favourite memory of you)

he cherishes your first kiss so much. he just has such a soft spot for that memory. the moment he finally found out you felt the same about him, the moment he finally found out what your lips against his felt like. it’s just something he had looked forward to for forever, and to him, it was perfect. 

C=Cuddles  (What type of cuddles do they like?)

sapnap is a WHORE for cuddles. if it where up to him, you two would just lay in bed all day, tangled in each other’s arms. after a long day, he just wants to hold his favourite person and fall asleep with them, so he just wraps his arms around your waist while he uses your chest as a pillow. but if he’s in a chatty mood, he’ll just talk your ears off, ranting about something he finds interesting, while you’re all snuggled up in the crook between his neck and shoulder. 

D=Dirty mind (Do they have a dirty mind?)

I mean, come on. it’s sapnap. we all know he does. he gets *excited* very easily, which can sometimes get in the way when you two are just trying to cuddle. he just has such a soft spot for your body and has to have his way with you once certain ideas have entered his mind. 

E=Effort (How much effort do they put in the relationship?)

nick would definitely try his best. honestly you don't care if his plans actually turn out the way he intented them to, it's the thought that counts. and nick knows that. but theres just something about you that makes him want to spoil you and treat you like a princess. so prepare yourself for fancy dates, him making you your favorite food, all that type of stuff.

F=First date (What was your first date together)

arcade date arcade date arcade date. sap is super competitive and I feel like he would thrive in an arcade. he would play it off like he was just trying to proof how good he was at the arcade games. but he'd just love to see how hard you would be trying to beat him. obviously he'd let you win a lot, and when he collected enough tickets, he would get you the biggest prize he could find.

G=Gentle (How gentle are they with you?)

it....depends???? lmao. nick CAN be super gentle with you, he’s pretty protective of you and would never want you to get hurt, so he’s definitely very careful not to do anything to hurt you. but sometimes his instinct just kinda takes over and well, he can get pretty rough. 

H=Hands (Do they have nice hands?)

hmmm nick has like,,very manly hands,, if you know what i mean. i dont know, they're just so rough but yet so pretty??? and they're like really big compared to yours so when he holds ur hand, yours looks so tiny in his. and omg he won't shut up about it. "LOOK AT YOUR HANDS THEY'RE SO SMALL🥺"

I=Impression (What was their first impression?)

he just thought you were so ~cool~. like he immediately knew he wanted to be your friend. he was just so in awe of how funny, chill and charismatic you were. and it literally took two days for him to develop a crush on you. his friends would notice this right away and tease him about it so much omg.

J=Jealousy (Do they get jealous often? If so what do they do?)

YUP. nick gets jealous so easy yup yup yup. jealousy, protectiveness, possessiveness, you name it. you two would often get in fights about this, but most of the time you would just think it’s cute how riled up he gets. he doesn’t get mad at you (because you’re his precious little baby and can do no wrong in his eyes :D) but god help the souls of whoever tries to flirt with you, because they’ve got a hell of a storm coming.

K=Kisses (What type of kisses do they like/give?)

god nick’s such a passionate kisser. or at least he can be lol. he loves the way your face fits into his hands, and how soft your lips are. so he definitely is a fan of just some wholesome passionate kisses. but damn this man gets sloppy when he wants to. his lips constantly trails off to your jaw, neck and collar bones.

L=Love  (Do they show their love?)

i feel like his love language would be like a mix between words of affection and physical touch??? he’s definitely very verbal with his love for you. he doesn’t shy away from saying i love you or letting you know how much he appreciates you in any other way.

M=Memory: (Their favourite memory in general?)

there are certain moments where nick just sits back, watches, and realizes how amazing his life is. and how grateful he is to have you. for example, you were playing minecraft on his pc, and your house kept getting blown up by creepers, he found it adorable how mad you got every time. he just watched you play, while sitting on his bed. after a while, you looked over at him, and caught him staring. “what?” you asked after letting out a soft chuckle. he felt like he was gonna explode from how much he loved you. 

N=Nickname  (What nicknames do they call you?)  

i’m getting very strong “baby” and “doll” vibes from nick. he loves baby-ing you and smothering you with other loving nicknames. just any petnames that show how much he loves you he’s all for. he would also love calling you “pretty” or “beautiful” for obvious reasons. 

O=Over  (What happened the one time you ‘broke up’?)

nick HATES fighting with you, but once you two get into an argument he can get pretty carried away. he’s definitely the type to let his emotions get the upper hand on him. raising his voice a lot, stuff like that. but the second you leave to get some space he just breaks down. sliding down the wall and resting his face in his hands, just letting all the emotions out. he never meant to hurt you. when you came back to him, ready to be enclosed in his arms again, he had a hard time letting you back in. he just felt like he didn’t deserve you after he treated you like this. it took some convincing, but once you broke down his walls again, it was like he gave you all the love in his body. just smothering you with “i’m sorry”s and kisses. 

P=Parents (What would they be like as a parent?)

dilfnap dilfnap dilfnap  omg he’d be such a good dad. like just very caring and loving, but also strict and stern when he needs to be. he’d constantly be telling stories to the kids about the absurd adventures him and his friends would get into, and omg the dad jokes he’d make. idk maybe it’s my daddy issues but dad sapnap lives in my mind rent free. 

Q=Quirk (Something special about them)

he loves holding your hand. especially in public. if you’re in a crowded space, he just holds onto you very tightly as not to lose you. or if you two are just going on a walk together, his hands would just feel so warm and soft around yours. and omg he loves it when his hands are in his pockets, and you put your hands in there with him, and intertwine your fingers with his. hmmm he gets so soft when you do that.

R=Romantic (How romantic are they?)

i- uh- I MEAN HE WOULD TRY he really would, and again, that’s all that matters. I feel like he would be the type to try to prepare a whole surprise dinner, he would cook all the food himself, he would set the table all cute, with candles and shit, but just completely ruin the surprise by accidentally giving it all away by saying something or just behaving very obviously suspicious. 

S=Sad (What are they like when they’re sad?)

he just gets really quiet. he would never want to bother you or be a pain in the ass by complaining to you. but obviously you notice when something is wrong with ur bby boy. a sentence like “are you okay?” or “what’s wrong?” would immediately send him over the edge, burying his face in your chest, trying his best to supress his sobs. but he eventually calms down, and once he does, he’s able to just rant to you about whatever is bothering him.

T=Together (What are they like when you’re together?)

i feel like it would really depend on his mood, like he could be either SUPER chill, just wanting to savour the time you two had together. or he could be really hyper, constantly talking, wanting to do all kinds of activities with you. he’d be the literal definition of :D

U=Understanding (How understanding and empathetic are they?)

very. i just get such empathetic vibes from him. he’s such a good listener and he’ll just listen to you talk whenever you have something to be upset about. he never invalidates your feelings and omg he’d give the best advice. 

V=Value (What do they value most about the relationship?)

he loves that he can 100% be his self around you. there’s no part of his personality that he feels like he has to hide, or tone down, whenever he’s with you. you also aspire him to be his best self, he just wants to be the best boyfriend in the world. all his friends have noticed this too, you bring out the best in him.

W=Wedding (Would they want marriage? If so what would they like?)

eh. if you’re a person who really values marriage, he’d 100% do it for you. but it’s not like he HAS to. he gets a bit scared by the idea of this whole big event, where everything is about you two, he would way rather celebrate the love you two have in the comfort of your own home, just the two of you. the one thing he would love about a wedding, would be seeing you all dolled up, walking down the aisle, omg he’d be the proudest man ever to be able to call you his.

X=X-Ray (How well can they read you?)

the SECOND you start to feel sad or depressed in any way, nick notices immediately. he knows you better than anybody else, and he knows exactly what to do to cheer you up. it’s like his superpower. if you’re feeling anxious he’ll just wrap his arms around you really tightly, holding on to you until you calm down. and when you’re sad, and in need for something to cheer you up, he’ll take you outside for a walk in the park, or he’ll just sit in bed with you, watching your favourite show. 

Y=Yuck (What they would never want in a partner)

he hates when you flirt with his friend, even when you’re very obviously joking. his jealous ass can’t deal with that lmao. he also gets super pissed when his friends make flirtatious jokes towards you, they know how much it gets on his nerves and that’s really the only reason they do it. but omg he gets so pissed when it happens. 

Zzz (How do they sleep around you?)

nick would be the cutest sleeper ever omg. he doesn’t like to admit it, but he loves being little spoon. he loves resting his head on your chest, while you play with his hair, patiently waiting for him to fall asleep. 

[umbran6]

Hogwarts Houses for the Heroes of Olympus, Apollo, and Meg.

I’ve seen a lot of people do this, so I thought I should do this and explain as to why I wanted them there. Spoilers are abound through Heroes of Olympus and Trials of Apollo as I explain my reasoning. 

Percy Jackson: Hufflepuff. Look, I know a lot of people place him in Gryffindor. That’s a reasonable outcome one can reach, considering his feats could be considered immensely brave. However, Percy has often participated in his quests out of a sense of loyalty towards those he loves, whether it’s his mom (The Lightning Thief), Camp Half-Blood (The Sea of Monsters), Annabeth (Both The Titan’s Curse and Battle of The Labyrinth), and in The Last Olympian, all of them. What really pins him in place is when he willingly fallis to Tartarus alongside Annabeth by the ending of The Mark of Athena, which is a remarkable yet insane feat of both love and loyalty. He also has a work ethic, which is revealed during The Tower of Nero. Rather than just go straight to New Rome and live a happy life, he went to a hellish military school just so he could graduate from there with a high school diploma. If that’s not a work ethic, I don’t know what is. Loyalty and work ethic are key Hufflepuff traits, and Percy has shown all of them. 

Annabeth Chase: Slytherin. Annabeth has often shown a lot of intelligence, but also a lot of resourcefulness and cunning during her time in the series. She literally tricked both Arachne and Nyx in what were impossible situations, and her goals are extremely ambitious, with her wanting to become an architect so she could build something that could last a thousand years. She also has a lot of Ravenclaw traits, to the point she repeated Odysseus and listened to the Sirens so she could learn what she desired the most. However, that was only once, and most often she used the knowledge she was given in resourceful and cunning ways, such as during the Last Olympian where she used the statues from Daedalus as a way to defend Manhattan. Needless to say, in my opinion she is a Slytherin first and Ravenclaw second. 

Jason Grace: It’s quite tricky, considering we don’t get to see any key defining traits, but I have decided to put him in Gryffindor. Jason’s shown plenty of bravery, fighting Giants and Titans during his quest, but he also has honor and chivalry, which he shows during Blood of Olympus, and later on, The Burning Maze. Specifically, in the scene where he makes a deal with Kymopoleia, promising to make shrines not only to her, but to all of the hundreds of minor gods of Greek Mythology. As we later see during The Burning Maze, Jason was completely willing to honor such a deal, working on the shrines even while he was living the closest thing to a normal life one could achieve as a demigod. And of course, we can’t ignore the fact that he was brave to fight Caligula just so his friends could escape. 

Piper Mclean: Slytherin. This is because during most of the time we’ve seen her, Piper fights dirty. She doesn’t stab a monster in the dagger, but charmspeaks the monster and stabs him in the back while he’s distracted. When claiming the position as Cabin Counselor in the Aphrodite Cabin during The Lost Hero from Drew, Piper uses the rules against her to get the position, rather than straight-up fighting her at the very beginning. Furthermore, rather than fight Khione upfront during the House of Hades, she bides her time and stalls the goddess until she can find a way to win. Though she has some traits that could go along with the other Houses, Slytherin tends to stand out the best. The only way she isn’t Slytherin in terms of traits is that she lacks ambition — we never see her have a higher goal beyond the quest, or any plans for what she’s going to do after everything’s done. Overall, she’s Slytherin through her actions, not her words, ironically. 

Frank Zhang: Gryffindor. This is because Frank performs a lot of actions that are by any standard, brave, and often selfless and self-sacrificial. Specifically, a lot of the sacrifices he performs throughout the series. In Son of Neptune, he was willing to be the distraction against the Laestrygonians so that Percy and Hazel could start their escape plan. He was literally willing to burn his own life force (his stick) so that Thanatos could break free despite the very large risk it posed to him. He even stood in the way of a Giant, pushing him all the way to the Canadian border. And as we learn in The Tyrant’s Tomb, he was willing to repeat his sacrifice if it meant Caligula and Commodus were killed.  Frank is a Gryffindor through and through, though he does have some minor Ravenclaw traits such as his use of tactics against his opponents, way of making plans, or recalling ancient Roman history. 

Hazel Levesque: Once again, this was another difficult one. Mainly because Hazel is split right down to the middle between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. On one hand, she was so loyal to her mother that despite the fact that the lady got them into this mess, Hazel willingly sacrificed Elysium so her mom wasn’t punished. On the other hand, she was also willing to sacrifice herself so Alcyoneus couldn’t rise again despite the fact that it would lead to her and her mom’s death. Finally, I decided she deserved to go to Gryffindor, because of the fact that she willingly went towards the quest to rescue Thanatos in The Son of Neptune despite the fact that it was very likely that the god of Death would take her back to the Underworld. That takes immense amounts of bravery, not only because it’s the right thing to do, but she’s also putting herself at immense risk of being dragged down to the Underworld. 

There are some Slytherin traits, such as when she made a plan to trick Sciron during the House of Hades, or the plan to trap Nike. However, Hazel’s a lot more defined by her bravery and empathy, which are more Gryffindor traits. If she had more ambition, a big goal after the quest it could be understood, but overall her Gryffindor traits are more prominent. For example, let’s compare how she got to Praetor and Octavian got to Praetor, and later on, Pontifex Maximus. Octavian often used a lot of word-twisting and dirty tactics to get his position, and only got there because Reyna left her post so she could help Jason. In comparison, the legion willingly raised her on a shield and collectively voted her into the position due to her bravery during the fight against Tarquin in The Tyrant’s Tomb. 

Leo Valdez: There have been arguments over where he should go. All of them want him in one house or the other, but the most convincing ones were either having him in Slytherin, or in Ravenclaw. And I can definitely agree with both — Leo has shown immense amounts of intelligence and cunning throughout the series.  He’s also intelligent in the sense that he created the Argo II, multiple weapons, the Holographic Scrolls, and even Buford. 

However, after looking through his actions, I found that he leans more towards Slytherin. Although his façade of cheerfulness and humor was used to disguise trauma, he also used said humor to make himself appealing towards bullies so they didn’t beat him up. He often used his cunning to morph himself to social situations such as his façade as a jokester to look less threatening in comparison to others. 

During the times we see him fight, he’s also the one to not only play it smart, but also using tactics and dirty tricks, rather than focusing on swordplay or his own fire powers. The only time we see him go ham with his pyrokinesis is when he’s fighting Khione during The Lost Hero. Furthermore, in The Mark of Athena, rather than straight-up fight the nymphs and Narcissus to get the celestial bronze he needed to make repairs, he uses himself as a distraction and has Hazel manipulate the bronze in a place where she can’t be seen, which is a plan that needs a lot of manipulation of the opposing parties.

What finally acted as the nail in the coffin for me was his plan to defeat Gaea during Blood of Olympus. It involved a lot of manipulation of both enemies and allies, and in the ended it succeeded so brilliantly that everybody got what they wanted, with none of them being aware of the plan until Frank and Hazel explained it, and they were the very few people in the know regarding Leo’s sacrifice. Developing such a plan takes immense amounts of cunning and ambition, which are both Slytherin traits. Although he may be chaotic, mischievous, and annoying, Leo is the guy you don’t realize is a Slytherin until it’s too late.

Nico di Angelo: The thing about a guy who was pretty much a loner throughout most of his time in the series is that it’s hard to tell what values he has. Ergo, we should look at his actions rather than his own words. Nico, although mainly dominated by his naïveté during his younger years, has shown himself to be extremely brave. For example, there was him openly defying his father by saving Percy from his imprisonment, and later actively convincing Hades to stop his vow of neutrality and fight alongside the Olympians in The Last Olympian. Finally, there’s his excursion to Tartarus and later his willingness to transport the Athena Parthenos during Blood of Olympus. Nico willingly went there to see if the Doors of Death were over there, and later transported the Athena Parthenos to Camp Half-Blood even if it meant he would fade into the shadows forever. All feats are insanely brave, and therefore I argue that he should go to Gryffindor. 

Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano: Hufflepuff. Most of Reyna’s actions aren’t inspired by bravery, honor, or chivalry, though from a certain point of view they are brave. Reyna often performs most of her actions out of loyalty for those she cares about, almost in a Percy-ish kind of way. Her interrogation and cold nature towards Percy in Son of Neptune? Suspicion that he would be a threat to Camp Jupiter. She metaphorically fought against Octavian’s power advances because she knew his own ambitions wouldn’t help New Rome. Willingness to cooperate with the Greeks before the Eidolons screwed up everything? She believed that it was best for New Rome. Willingness to brave the Mare Nostrum all by herself? Both her loyalty to Jason and that she believed that waging war against Camp Half-Blood was not the best for the legion. Her loyalty and ethic just make her a shoe-in for Hufflepuff. 

Apollo/Lester Papadopoulos: Oh boy, he’s kind of at an in-between when it comes what house he should be in. If we were talking about him pre-Lesterfication, I would honestly say Hufflepuff, but he takes a good chunk of those traits and turned them into a darker way. He defeated Python because the snake monster had chased his mother off of Delphi. He alongside Artemis murdered Niobe’s kids because the goddess insulted Leto by saying she was better than her. When Asclepius is murdered by Zeus, he retaliates by murdering the Cyclopes who made the weapons. And finally, he punishes those who broke their vows He shows loyalty, but in a lot of darker ways that we don’t expect. He’s got Hufflepuff morals, but they’re in a darker, more warped way than we expect. 

If we’re looking at him post-Lesterfication, I would still say Hufflepuff, but now he does it in a brighter way and is also more Gryffindor. He was more willing to sacrifice himself if it meant saving those he cared about, such as when he willingly tried to kill himself during The Burning Maze if it meant Caligula would stop holding his friends hostage. He was also willing to commit more honorable gestures such as bringing Jason’s body to New Rome during The Tyrant’s Tomb. He was even willing to own up to his mistakes right in front of a god who had every right to hate him if it meant Meg and Reyna could be spared. He’s still a Hufflepuff, but he’s a more idealistic and less warped version of the values he had before he became Lester. 

Meg: In a way, she’s pretty much like Apollo. She’s a Hufflepuff, but in all the wrong ways at first. We see this in The Dark Prophecy when its clear that during that time, she was more loyal to Nero of all people rather than her fellow campers, to the point of accepting Nero’s gaslighting if it meant she could see the positive view of him. However, she’s also loyal to Apollo and her father, which we see in The Burning Maze because the main reason she guns for Caligula is because she often compares him to The Beast aspect of Nero, the person who killed her dad. She in the end is also willing to accept and finish her father’s legacy, planting the seeds that eventually become the Meliai. Tower of Nero is when she gains the will to stand up to Nero after support from Apollo and her friends, and is later on seen taking care of the other children Nero abused. In the end, she’s a Hufflepuff despite the fact that she may not look like it. 

Now, before you guys getting up in arms about there being no Ravenclaws, in my opinion the house is a lot more knowledge-focused, whether its discovering more knowledge, but also using it in a more academic and experimental way. Considering we don’t see this attitude or its corresponding values too much during the stories that we see since they’re more save-the-world mission focused. While Slytherin does have an intelligence-centric value such as cunning, its more focused on using such intelligence to manipulate and trick others, while Ravenclaw uses such intelligence in the discovery for knowledge.