#anyone who’s more expert in these things feel free to weigh in!!

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

oh my god oh my god oh my GODDDDDD i can’t BELIEVE i found these on my little rainy october thrift shop wander this morning. like, one would have been more MORE enough. but both?? at once??? i am quite simply floating and may never touch back down to earth

[oryoucouldhavemine]

TOH Headcanon Dump Post

(Mostly the De-lights because i write them the most lmao)

Hunter:

Autistic

surprisingly tall but like in a lanky "towers over everyone" way except he has terrible posture

gets overwhelmed with sound, light, people, basically everything if it was unexpected he's probably overwhelmed

Darius is his dad but Raine and Eberwolf are like, honorary parents at this time. Eda and Camila are more like the really close aunts he always visits to me, idk i dont see Eda being a parental figure that works for him (Luz however that is her daughter fr fr)

has lots of scars from Belos trying to "teach him a lesson" about bravery and such and Hunter doesnt think anything about it until hes like changing and Darius does a drama queen dramamgic gasp, hand over chest while leaning against a wall for support

HATES tight clothing, its too restricting he enjoys oversized and loose clothes. in the human world, luz introduces him to skirts and hunter is like "WHY WOULD ANYONE NOT WEAR A SKIRT THEYRE AMAZING"

he also likes purses he thinks theyve gotta be magical or something

touch-starved but has loving friends and family who are here to help him through it

discovers fire trucks and engines in the human world and despises the boiling isles for NOT HAVING THEN WHY DONT THEY HAVE THEM THEYRE SO COOL????

Luz

ADHD + genderqueer (p sure both are canon)

SHE WOULD LOVE NEO/XENO PRONOUNS theyd have sm fun with chosing ones

Loves to dress masc and fem and soemtimes combine them in asburd ways but she always surprisingly makes the outfit work

wants a guinea pig farm. no, NEEDS a guinea pig farm. She wants to name them all after her favourite book characters and sew them tiny outfits to match she would KILL a man for a guinea pig farm

considera hunter her older brother and looks up to him a lot

LOVES her gf would also kill a man for her she is the light of her life. luz tries to do grand romantic cheesy gestures like writing amity poems or getting her a massive bouquet of flowers but something ALWAYS goes wrong (amity loves all the gestures regardless)

luz's favourite colour is purple (because of amity ofc)

she HAS to sleep either sprawled out taking up every inch of the bed possible or curled up and swadled like a little baby there is no inbetween

very tactile if luz isnt hugging someone there might me something wrong

im cutting this short i could make fifty posts about luz hcs alone

Amity

autistic + sapphic

npw that shes free from her mom, she LOVES to be imperfect, she gets happy whenever she fails a test or a spell because shes ALOWED to be imperfect now

she and hunter did NOT get along at first like even post-s3 they didnt mesh well but they both care for Luz they had to get over it (and now theyre practically ever apart)

admired lillith even more now, she thinks lillith is like, THE COOLEST person in the world but feels akward telling her

has poor circulation so she gets cold really easily

whenever shes stressed or worried, shell pull at two strands of her hair next to her face and like twirl or pull on them to ground herself

Gus

unlabelled he/they

brags about having gone to the human realm to anyone who will listen

considers himself an expert on human things despite barely actually knowing anything human

loves playing pranks but is literally terrible at them but everyone humors him and acts surprised (he knows theyre acting)

once took a human SAT just to see if he could and got a higher score than Camila got on hers and she calls him Boy Genius for it

like in Flyer Derby, hes really good at a lot of sports but he plays untraditionally. hes always underestimated by the other team but then ends up scoring all the winning points

hes a silly little guy love him

Willow

her comfort person is hunter, she feels strong all the time but it weighs on her and hunter makes her feel strong even at her weakest moments

she likes to knot and crochet! she picked it up in the human world and she finds it so calming and fun except it took her a bit before she actually got the hang of it (she made like five sweaters that had three arms but in her defense!!! she knows a lot of creatures and beings with three arms!!!)

works out! not necessarily to get strong but because working out makes her feel accomplished

amity has been trying out new hairstyles and Willow loves being Amity's pracitce head. You can barely ever find willow without some sort of fancy braid or bun hairstyle nowadays

she wants a horse. shes not actually sure what a horse IS but she wants one

super sweet to every new person she meets until they mess with her friends then she is the scariest person alive

Darius

OCD + gay

he discovers what drag queens are and becomes obsessed

"a place for everything and everything in its place" hehas harsh rules about what does where and gets easily upset if his system is ruined

he DESPISES "if you hate messes so much whyd you pick the messiest magic to learn" comments because how DARE you insinuate that abomination matter (PART OF WHAT HE IS!) is ANYTHING like mud its actually very disrespectful of you to think so he says

he and alador had a falling out in their later years of school and to cover up the hurt, darius will argue and tease him but deep down he really just misses him

at the start of him trying to care for hunter, he refuses to admit that he is like a father to him. anytime eda or raine call him a dad, he'll go out of his way to try and prove hes NOT (cut to five months layer when hes legally adopted hunter and they meecilessly tesse him)

acts like eberwolf is the biggest inconvience hes ever met but would kill anyone who tries to harm them (and hed rather die than tell them that)

does things in threes, he doesnt even notice he does it at this point but he'll like rub his hands together three times, tie his hair up with three twists, eat three waffles for breakfast, and when smth isnt in threes it feels verry OFF to him

Alador

queer + autistic

very fixated on his work, he needs to be constantly creating and if he isnt creating then hes falling behind and if hes falling behind its the end of the world

doesnt know how to properly show affection, his parents had been pretty strict and neglectful so he doesnt know how to properly show his kids that he loves and cares for them

NOT a tactile person at all. don't touch him and DEFINTELY dont touch him without permission. he has very few people who are exceptions (his kids and Darius) and even then there are limits

hates the feeling of showering so hes a bigger bath person despite darius telling him thats not an effective way to get clean

he has like eighty pairs of the exact same outfit because its the only texture he can stand

darius and his falling out was due to his parents telling him darius was dragging him down and he itched him in an attempt to make his parents proud. he deeply regrets his choice everyday (they fix their shit eventually)

he DOES have a favourite kid but he refuses to tell them such

Edric

bisexual + autistic + transmasc

this man gets NO BITCHES none zero trying to find a partner is borderline IMPOSSIBLE for some unknown reason

he runs on a schedule and if something breaks the schedule no matter how small it can ruin his whole day

vrry open with his emotions. he will tell you right away if youre bothering him or did something to upset him

WHY THE HELL IS SCHOOL SO HARD he despises english because why are all answers right and wrong he loves math because there is only one right answer but its still a tricky subject for him

dinosaurs

his biggest fear is dying alone he hates being alone its the worst thing ever

WHY IS MAGIC TRICKY AS WELL WHY IS EVERYTHING SO HARD? hes getting better though and hes really good at beastkeeping

clingy emotionally and physically he needs the constant reassurance that people are there and care for him and hes close to his sister and tends to stick to her like glue

Emira

bisexual + AuDHD + transfem

when she and edric were younger and realised they were both trans they just switched names and clothes and it took ten years for their parents to notice the switch

RSD [Rejection Senstive Dysphoria] she hates that she has it because someone can say smth as simple as "sorry i cant make it my grandma died" and she'll start thinking of a million different reasons why that person actually just hates her (shes communicated this with her siblings though and they do their best to commincate clearly back with her that no they dont hate her at all)

SO MANY BITCHES people fall at her feet they swoon when she walks by but NONE of them are her type its terrible!!!!

loves her little sister but doesnt know how to show her love through any other way outside merciless teasing

she loves her brother, she does, she just wants to be her own person outside him, to be able to turn around and not see him two feet behind her

loves english and the fact you can make any wrong answer right with enough arguing and debate. math is her least favourite subject WHY THE HELL IS IT SO HARD

has years of detention stacked up but has not attended a single day (she got suspended for a week because of it and was just like YAYYY FREE VACATION!)

will sometimes just sit in her dads workshop while he works and watch in silence because she likes hanging out with people but knows alador cant focus with sound. its both of their favourite times

Raine

lesbian + nonbinary

post-s3 runs a music therapy group where they teach people how to play instruments or how listening to music can greatly help their mental health

has been in love with eda since their breakup, they never stopped loving her and would watch from the sidelines with terror as wanted signs got hung up around the BI for years

doesnt mind dressing fem or masc but prefers the more androgynous outfits

has watched hunter from the sidelines and tried to protect them from a distance but could only do so much. post-HM raine goes out of their way to make sure hunter is safe

sees luz as a sort of step daughter and then promptly panics over that realisation for a whole day

gets flustered really easily like why is everything so embarrassing what the hell

very agile, can do backflips and stuff

Eberwolf

Unlabelled + he/they

COULD JOT STAND DARIUS AT FIRST darius and eber did NOT get along in their early years of being covenheads but then eventually learned they were both rebels and got closer now theyre kind of like begruding brothers

could kill a man in their sleep and has

loves being dirty, mud is so much fun why doesnt everyone roll around in the mud more?

has also watched hunter from afar for years, hunter used to be sent out on overnight missions into the woods and stuff and eber would follow along and protect hunter so he could focus on his mission and not random forest creatures trying to kill him

Most of these are based on my dadrius series and stuff so if you enjoyed these hcs uou should go read my fics (KaztielCS118 on ao3!!! used to be Im_Basically_Shakespeare but i changed it recently)

[sciderman]

I've been having some gender-confused thoughts recently and I've been kinda hoping you could weight in on this (as i kinda see you as an expert on gender™ stuff), as sometimes i kinda think like "I wonder what it would be like to be a girl" or "I kinda wanna try if I'd like being a woman and percieved as such" but also partly i am unsure, as i got noone to try stuff with irl (like make-up and clothes and stuff like that) and my parents, mainly my dad, aren't really the most open thinking people out there, and also because part of me wonders if part of my brain is still sexualizing women because most/basicly all of those thoughts are connected to sexual stuff or something physical (even if just cuddling or making out) so i dunno what to think. Sorry for venting but i dunno who to ask tbh. (Where's a Vanessa where you need one, eh?)

i don't think there's any sort of a thing like an expert on gender™, and i don't know if i could at all really weigh in on the validity of your feelings or whether you "qualify" for the right to experiment with your gender – you really, really don't have to "qualify" or feel like you're any sort of anything! if you're curious about what it would feel like to present as femme, then - by god, try it and find out. it might feel amazing, and you'll do it again - you might not like it, and never do it again. or, it might just be a thing you feel that week, and not the next week, and then you'll feel it again in a couple of months, then not.

it doesn't hurt to just - treat it as something easy and free. it doesn't hurt to - buy something pretty and try it in front of the mirror. you're not signing a contract or applying for status as a full-time trans... you're just trying something new. just like you'll try a new entree at a new restaurant. you might never go back. or you'll love it so much you'll go there every week. until you find a new, better restaurant. it's not an all-or-nothing sort of deal - it's not any sort of commitment at all. it's just clothes, and words, and feelings. they can change at any moment, and you should let them be strange and inexplicable and unexplainable - don't take it too seriously. it's all play. treat it like play.

everything in life should feel like play. i think it hurts everyone - absolutely everyone, cis or trans, or anyone - to think that they have to be a certain way. like they have to be this much of something, and cannot be anything else. be free, be comfortable, and be as much of something as you want to be. you don't have to be more, and you don't have to be less than whatever it is you want to be. just - just be.

if you think it'll be fun to put some tights on, put some tights on. if you think it'll be fun to put some make-up on, put some make-up on - sure, it'd always be nice to have someone to guide you through that journey, but - ultimately, whether you have someone else or not, that journey is going to be initiated by you. you have to want to take that first step - and you don't have to wait for it to happen. you can do it any time, whenever you're comfortable and ready, and feel safe to do so.

i think, also, if you're sincerely thinking about gender beyond the binary and asking these sorts of questions then the issue of "sexualising women" becomes much more multilayered than you think. but i don't really - i don't know, i don't really understand where you're coming from. i think there's a very harmful argument from terfs and the like where - they demonise transwomen and accuse them of fetishising femininity and coopting it as a way to penetrate female spaces and - i don't know, maybe that's a mindset you're internalising? if so, i'd really ask you to reexamine that - if you're thinking that about yourself, are you thinking that of transwomen and other gnc people? just - something to reexamine. make sure you're not internalising a rhetoric like that. i'm pretty sure you're not that horrible bogeyman that terfs like to conjure to get people to fear transfolk. and i'm pretty sure that you taking the time to explore your identity and ask questions and getting to know yourself and your relationship with the world is a pretty harmless and wonderful thing that you shouldn't feel afraid to do.

good luck anon! and don't feel afraid to slip back into my inbox with any exciting updates, if you do decide to be so bold!

[therogerclarkfanclub]

another question: is it "parasocial" to crush on him and think about him so much and have fantasies?? i mean, i know i'll never get with him and he doesn't know me and i don't feel entitled to him by any means but idk, i worry i seem like a creep even tho i'm not making how i feel about him known directly to him lol

Hmmm... 🤔 well, if we go by its definition, then yes it is "parasocial".

Personally, I have had some interactions with him and he has responded to a few of my DM's that I have sent him, and I have met him enough times that he does remember me, which is shocking, considering the amount of people he meets.

But I feel that this issue is weighing heavily upon you and look, I am no expert therapist or psychologist or anything of the sort, but if you feel this whole thing with Roger is causing you a type of mental discomfort... maybe you should give things a break? Your well-being is far more important.

This may shock some of you, but I don't think anyone is worth that type of trouble, not even Roger, and even though I love him very very much, if it ever got to the point that this blogging business was causing me too much distress, I would probably drop this whole thing. There's been times in which I just wanna throw in the towel and move on to something else, but for one reason or another, I end up coming back to this mess of a blog.

So again, my opinion is, I think you should prioritize your mental health first.

Speaking on personal level, Roger is an amazing person and I love him a lot, but "getting with him" for me is nothing but a fantasy, I mean sure, it's nice to think about it but ultimately nothing will become of it, but in the meantime I'll be here giving him free advertisement until I feel I've had enough of this whole thing, and who knows when that will be. 🤔

(Additional resource for those who may be interested 👇)

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Hi Frank! I was wondering if you are familiar with "kayfabe" and if so what are your thoughts on the persistence of pro wrestling when everyone knows the matches are predetermined.

Hi!

First of all, I have to admit I'm not exactly sure what "kayfabe" means or what its significance is. (What do the e in the name stand for, and do people say it when referring to all pro wrestling? I only know it as a term associated with pro wrestling.)

Here's a Reddit post that might be relevant, although I am in no way an expert on the topic. (It has no sources, so it's very difficult for me to weigh in, but I think some of the discussion is interesting.)

From the very brief search I have done on Google, it does seem to be some of the more controversial stuff involved in the history of wrestling, and has some association with the "cage" used for many wrestlers during their "ring apprenticeship" (a.k.a. "trainning school"?).

Wikipedia has something on it, although again I am not an expert.

Also, for those who don't follow wrestling, just to give a bit of a picture -- there are essentially two wrestling promotions based in the US right now, WWE and New Era Pro Wrestling, with a fair number of wrestlers switching between promotions as they see fit.

Also of note: while most fans like to believe that the matches are "fair," in reality they are determined largely by the company that is making the money. The wrestlers involved have "contracts" with the company, whose main purpose is to guarantee that they'll always have a job (i.e. it has the legal power to cut their paycheck in the event of a performance that makes them look bad -- not always, but there is always some legal power). In addition, they are usually obligated to work certain dates, in order to maximize profits, and the company will have to pay the wrestlers for those dates whether they are wrestling or not. (As a side note, I know that if I were a pro wrestler, I would feel pretty good about myself if I "brought in the crowds," even if I wasn't actually wrestling anyone that day.)

Also, in real life, "kayfabe" refers to things like:

using people's real names and/or photos on their website

paying people who have real lives (parents, wives, etc.) who are involved in the promotion

referring to legitimate events like political conventions, sporting events, etc., using "wrestling" terminology

describing wrestling on TV as "the way the WWF's writers want it to be" (e.g. making it seem like the WWF is a "real sport" when it's really a "cartoon for kids," while still using real names on TV and having people involved in the real wrestling be involved in real wrestling on TV... )

claiming that the matches are "free-wrestling," i.e. not scripted or choreographed (and thus less fake than "kayfabe" would suggest)

inventing stories about the history and personalities of the characters (e.g. "Bruiser Brody, the man in black, was so infamous that everyone knew him by name" or "this is the man the WWF will send to defeat the great Hulk Hogan when he's in real life")

inventing the history of the promotion itself ("the WWF's writers had to convince our fans that we were 'the first great American family entertainment' and, to do so, we had to establish a strong 'family friendly' image, so we had to have our own history and mythology, and, most importantly, real characters... [to] make the audience relate to us and want to be part of our world")

claiming that wrestling matches are "all staged." (This, this, and this are a few very brief examples.) (Wrestling commentators will sometimes call this "putting on a show," and "kayfabe" will refer to it as "hokum" or "cheesy" -- this probably dates to the days when actual wrestling matches used to be pretty cheap, and promoters would use those as a gimmick)

(The "kayfabe" tag on the "kayfabe" subreddit makes me think that "kayfabe" is associated with the second or third points.)

This one has a brief history and a lot of links that might be of interest. ("The kayfabe tag can probably best be described as 'wrestling history's version of the 'hollywood history' tag.' It is an amalgamation of the different and often contradictory claims that have been made about the history of pro wrestling, most notably the claim that the performers are'really' acting and have'really' done things for the cameras and/or that wrestling is'really' a sport.")

As for how the matches are done, I'm not sure. "Kayfabe" might refer to, as you say, making claims about "the history and personalities of the characters" (note that those claims often turn out to have been made up); however, another definition of kayfabe could be "when a wrestler performs a move they have been told to do (but which they otherwise don't have the reflexes for) in a way that makes them look really good and allows for other wrestlers to sell the move to the crowd (the 'fake sell') as if it were their own technique," and that could conceivably be the definition of something called "kayfabe" -- the idea that the characters have personalities, etc., and that some of that personality/etc. gets projected onto the characters during a match that has been scripted in advance.

[anthonybialy]

A Republican Bad Buy

Republicans bust stereotypes by not caring about economics.  It’s nice to feel surprised.  A party once dedicated to freeing markets now makes regrettable choices within them.  The squanderer faction can only blame themselves, which at least shows a roundabout commitment to personal responsibility.

Repeating a ghastly purchase is not the only way Donald Trump’s sycophants are liberals.  But condemning markets because they make such terrible choices offers a red flag of the same type that they ignore.

An atrocious economic decision may as well have been made by Democrats.  The enemy of trade’s political manufacturing concern got the opposing product they wanted.  Republicans can’t claim to serve as an alternative as long as they can’t be trusted to measure prices.

A longtime member of their alleged rival who promises to retain every bit of country-crushing spending has pre-empted the case of differentiation.  The regrettable nominee is afraid to confront unfathomable debt like a truly fearless financial expert.  They’ve refused to avoid nominating a lecherous scumbag for a couple elections.

Weighing costs versus benefits is as obsolete an occurrence as full shelves.  It would help if they had someone who had ever done that once.  Trump thinks he embodies financial success when he’s nothing but a living ad pitch.  Republicans completed the shift from commerce to commercials.

The easiest election possible will end with the toughest result.  The only way to blow it would be to nominate the sole individual capable of being miserable enough to make Kamala Harris inspire hope by comparison.  So, Republicans did just that.  Competitors shouldn’t pursue parity.

Everyone already knows how his term would go on account of enduring just that.  Republicans can’t claim they’re dedicated to market efficiency as long as they stick with a financial satire.  Spot the difference by how they endorse unfathomable debt while standing in front of an American flag.  And you thought there wasn’t a real choice.

Doling out entitlements makes both parties poor, which is why a business and presidential genius aspires to keep doing so indefinitely.  Enough Republicans merely wanted their own bully.  The whole bit of constitutional fidelity that leads to prosperity went out with Mitt Romney.  Government running every aspect of a formerly free nation is treated as a matter of style, which makes nominating someone without any that much more appalling.

The greatest winner already lost once.  Trump hates hearing that, so make sure to mention it again.  It seems like a rather obvious thing to announce.  But so is noting that Trump isn’t a conservative any more than he is a business king.

Winning the most electoral votes is irrelevant.  Does that alleviate woe?  Both candidates will still suck it hard, so whoever stumbles into a slight majority will exacerbate whatever misery has become commonplace.  

Flaunting no principle other than winning is the only thing rich about the nomination.  A misunderstanding of every last thing comes naturally from an oaf playing a character.  Trump represents pursuing power without authority, loyalty without values, anger without righteousness, confrontation without cause, mouthiness without muscle, and preening without integrity.  He’s authentic otherwise.

Praising any dictator who flatters him reflects a principle of sorts.  As a companion, the resentment list surely displays grace.  Damning anyone who refuses to comply offers a break from drawing hearts around the names of lickspittles.

Backing everything they claim to hate is the perfect way for Trump to despise his flunkies.  Their disrespectful messiah embodies why they’re irritable in the first place.  Telling submissive worshipers what they want to hear is as worthless a consolation prize as any of his other daft promises.  Trump is officially an insider.  The only reason he wasn’t before was due to personal ineptness.

It’d be hard to conclude that business was swell if your primary example is a perennial presidential candidate who keeps announcing he’s the richest without producing two dimes to rub together.  Trump embodies the precise opposite of what dealing is actually like.  As how corporations aligning with government is the opposite of capitalism, he has as little to do with profiting as purple-haired baristas.

Suckers crave grifts.  Victimhood is their secret turn-on whether they realize it or not.  The only thing that matter to rubes is labels, which like their boss is the opposite of results.  Trump embodies the worst sort of choice as candidate just like he does the worst of entrepreneurship.  It’s hard to find someone so consistent.

An aspiring second-time executive is setting up another divorce.  Treating the presidency like marriages disrespects both.  Creating things customers want is as elusive as respecting vows.  Putting his name on generic bottled water and subpar steaks is the process of duping enough marks into thinking anything carrying the Trump name epitomizes class.  Record another unimpressive conquest.

One can’t be prosperous just by a ridiculous notion like fulfilling needs of others.  How would you know who won?  Create an election that confirms it.  Study impending dreadful results to finally learn how to avoid them.  Seeking better options is is a goal that’s as obvious as it elusive.

There’s quite a toxic mess to clean up in 2024, so let it keep bubbling.  Ever-astute voters are either giving the least deserving incumbent his sole chance of napping on the same desk for twice as long or providing the least deserving erstwhile incumbent with a chance to pout instead of doing anything useful.  The choice is vast.

Fearing change is the ultimate Boomer move, or lack thereof.  Comfort of routine means putting on The Office yet again instead of experiencing a new story with unheard jokes.  Another Trump nomination is like watching the Will Ferrell episodes.

Schemers should at least have something worthwhile planned to achieve with deviousness.  The atrocious calculation from calculating people is an emblematically terrible economic choice in honor of the debt enthusiast who couldn’t turn owning slot machines into a thriving enterprise.  Both parties are officially separated from true exchange.  As usual, the lesson is unwitting.

[adelaidemoverspackers]

Benefits Of Choosing Small Removalists Service in Adelaide

It is unsurprising that moving into a new home and organizing the relocation are frequently ranked as the third most stressful life events. In addition to estate agents and attorneys, there are removals, packing, storage, and other tasks to plan. On the other hand, Small Moves Adelaide offers a stress-free small house removal service that will make you feel less stressed. So stay stress-free while choosing our services. Our small removal Adelaide services come with lots of benefits. Some of them are:

1. Packing With Expertise

Expert services are just the shrine of our services. There is a great demand for expert services when they choose a removalist company. Nobody likes moving-related packing. It takes a lot of time and exertion; if done incorrectly, it might break or otherwise harm your possessions. You won’t experience that with our small item moving services in Adelaide. We are pretty skilled at packing and making everything fit securely and effectively. Utilizing small removal services in Adelaide will reduce the possibility of harm to your things and ensure that they are packed to use the available space fully. So if you want to move your items safely and quickly through the expert hand, then you can choose our small removalists Adelaide team.

2. Stress Reduction

You know, small moves Adelaide may be a very stressful experience. It’s a busy and stressful period, and moving residences can cause stress that weighs on your mind. Our small removalists Adelaide services can help you with that. Rest assured, we’ll handle everything, alleviating any concerns you might have. Knowing that we are handling things will offer you peace of mind, making the relocation more manageable. Providing services according to their needs makes our clients stress-free, satisfied, and happy. Our service’s top priority is to satisfy our clients.

3. Cost-Effective

Although it can seem counterintuitive, using a small removal firm might be less expensive than doing it yourself. The reality is that moving’s many expenses may quickly pile up. You could believe you are saving money, but you could spend more than you intended. However, by using our services, you may avoid worrying about renting moving trucks, paying for dollies, or purchasing packing materials like boxes or bubble wrap. You’ll wind up saving money this way! Our small removals in Adelaide are cost-effective and will cover all expenses while removing your small items at a lower price. We don’t charge higher prices as we want all people may use our services and stay content with us.

4. Time-Saving

Relocating is a time-consuming endeavor, a fact anyone who has experienced it can confirm. Hours are dedicated to preparing, packing, and transporting belongings, not to mention the challenge of moving everything to a new house. However, if you choose our services, the entire moving procedure will go much more quickly. We will do all the time-consuming things for you, giving you plenty of time for other crucial duties. So for small items removal service in Adelaide, you can choose us.

5. Safety

People may counter that inexpensive services won’t ensure the safety of your possessions, but this is false in the case of our services. As was previously said, our services use three distinct kinds of wrapping to ensure that your possessions are completely secure while being moved. You may thus argue that adopting our services will provide you with the benefits of low service charges and total item security. We hire additional personnel when the items are electrical or fragile. Because of this, many people consider our packing and unpacking services in Adelaide to be the finest.

[xtruss]

One Hundred Deep Questions To Ask Friends To Get To Know Them Better! Take Your Friendship To A Whole New Level With These Thoughtful Questions.

— By Sarah Fielding and Sophie Caldwell | Published: January 05, 2023

When you first meet someone new, you often ask them a multitude of questions: where are you from? What do you do for work? Do you have any pets? What do you do in your free time?

These are all solid starter questions to learn more about a casual acquaintance, but there's a limit to how well you can get to know someone through surface-level conversation.

Asking thoughtful questions is a wonderful way to solidify and deepen your relationships, from new friends to longtime companions.

With old friends, we may forget to continue asking them meaningful questions since we know them so well already.

“There is no such thing as knowing everything about a person, so ongoing connection building between friends helps to nurture and grow the relationship, especially through natural and unnatural life transitions,” Leanne Leonard, a licensed marriage and family therapist at Mindpath Health, tells TODAY.com.

Demonstrating curiosity about your friends's inner world shows them that you care about their thoughts and feelings.

In the long run, this open dialogue will make it easier for them to bring up tough topics or ask for advice.

"Healthy communication helps create a foundation of safety, trust, and respect for each other, which in turn fosters an environment of openness and vulnerability," Jodie Milton, relationship and intimacy coach at Practical Intimacy, tells TODAY.com.

We asked experts to weigh in on the best questions to get to know your friends better.

From lighthearted to personal, these deep questions will help you build even closer bonds with your loved ones.

Deep Questions To Ask Friends:

What’s been on your heart and mind recently?

What are your current priorities in this season of your life, and why?

How would you like people to experience you? What kind of person do want to be in the world?

If you had a whole day where you could do anything you wanted, what would you do?

What are you most proud of about yourself?

What is your greatest accomplishment?

What are you still hoping to accomplish?

What do you want people to know about you?

What do you need more of in your life?

What do you need less of in your life?

What do you feel has been your greatest “win” so far in life?

What three words describe what you’re most grateful for?

Would you rather people perceive you as being kind, smart or attractive?

How do you like to receive care?

How do you cope when things get hard?

What do you really care about?

What really frustrates you?

What keeps you up at night?

Who sticks out as being an early positive influence in your life?

Who is most important to you now?

How did you feel about where you grew up?

Did you grow up in an emotionally supportive environment?

Who are you most like in your family?

Who in your family do you struggle with?

Is there a time when you did something that seems so out of character that most people wouldn’t believe it?

What is the most trouble you’ve ever been in?

Looking back on your life, who or what makes you instantly light up?

If you could leave a “mark on the world” that preceded you, what would it be?

What would you like to accomplish in life?

What makes your life feel purposeful?

What values are most important to you?

If one wish of yours could come true, what would it be?

If you could travel anywhere, where would you go?

If you could meet anyone in the world, alive or deceased, who would it be?

What brings you joy?

Do you think other people see you the way you see yourself?

What is the best piece of advice you've ever been given?

Do you think you’ve met your soulmate?

What is your earliest memory?

Fun Questions To Ask Friends:

Describe your perfect day.

What movie or show do you keep rewatching?

What makes you choose that movie/show over and over again?

What was your favorite game as a child?

Which book or movie impacted you most growing up?

What’s your favorite childhood memory?

What is your favorite memory?

What is on your bucket list?

What are two places you want to go before you die?

What does your ideal friend weekend look like?

What is the most exciting adventure you have been on?

Where is the most awe-inspiring place you’ve ever visited?

If you weren’t in your current profession, what would you be doing?

Who would you invite to your dream dinner party?

Are you a dog person or a cat person?

Who is your celebrity crush?

What’s your biggest pet peeve?

What celebrity do you secretly think you’d be best friends with?

Who is your biggest role model?

If you could time travel to any era, which one would you choose?

Hard Questions To Ask Friends:

What is the relationship with your parents like?

What is your worst memory?

What fears do you experience?

What do you find most challenging in your life right now?

What is something that not many people know about you?

What prevents you from sharing that part of yourself?

How do you know when you can trust someone?

What event has had a large impact on your life?

If you lost a loved one, do you think you would come to me for support?

If you lost your job, would you come to me for help?

Have you ever stopped talking to a friend?

Why did you stop talking to them? (See question above.)

Has a friend ever stopped talking to you?

What led to the end of that friendship? (See question above.)

What do you think other people notice first about you?

What is your biggest regret?

How long does it take to earn your trust?

If you found money on the ground, would you keep it or look for the owner?

Do you remember your nightmares?

What’s one bad habit you wish you could quit?

Personal Questions About Your Friendship:

What about our friendship is important to you?

What do you value most in a friendship?

In what ways do you feel supported in the friendship?

In which ways do you not feel supported in our friendship?

In what ways do you feel trust within our friendship?

What is your favorite trait in me?

What’s your favorite part of our friendship?

Who’s the first person you’d call if you got good news?

Who’s the first person you’d call if you got bad news?

What do you most look forward to doing with me?

What is your least favorite trait in me?

What do you dread doing with me?

What is one piece of advice you would give to me if you knew I wouldn’t get offended?

What would you do if your partner didn't like me?

What would you do if your parents didn't like me?

Is there anything I can do to show my appreciation for your friendship that I do not already do?

Have you ever kept a secret from me?

What made it difficult to share? (See question above.)

What qualities do you look for in a partner?

What qualities do you look for in a friend?

If we could only do one thing together before we die, what would it be?

[heliads]

Hey again, Lisa!! For your 5K celebration, could I please get a personalized drabble with Grover Underwood? I think you already know a lot about me by this point, I've been annoying you long enough I think (😅), but if you need any info, feel free to tell me and I'll send it right in!! Have a beautiful day!! 🖤🖤🖤

yes pjo!! also tell me why it's IMPOSSIBLE to find gifs of grover? this is literally the only one i could find

Grover Underwood has seen quite a fair amount of beautiful things. As he’s been tasked by Lord Pan himself with recreating the wild and carrying on his spirit, Grover has traveled to the far corners of the world. He’s witnessed displays of nature and glamor that could win over anyone else. 

Needless to say, Grover thinks that he could be considered quite the expert on such things. Yet somehow, his breath has been stolen away by one sight in particular:  namely, that of the half blood currently walking towards him.

They’re in the woods together, these two renegade souls. Grover needed to reach a few of the dryads who were refusing to pull their weight in the forest near the camp. Turns out they’re sticking by themselves because Dionysus released a few too many monsters nearby for sport. Y/N has come along to make sure Grover has some backup, and that’s what leads him to this moment right here, almost tripping over himself in an attempt to savor the memory.

It’s just perfect, all of it. Golden sunlight dappling the boughs waving above their heads, shining off of the celestial bronze armor strapped to Y/N’s shoulders. They’re turning back to him now, smiling at something he doesn’t remember saying, and all Grover can think is that man, he’s really in for it now.

Y/N glances at him quizzically when Grover fails to respond to something. “Everything alright? You seem a little distracted.”

“It’s nothing,” Grover says a little quickly, “Just, uh, nervous about trying to kill these monsters before they kill us.”

Y/N waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, we’ll be fine. Mr. D just wants us to be mildly terrified, not actually murdered.”

Grover frowns. “How do you know that? I thought he kind of despised us.”

“He does,” Y/N says placidly, “but he despises the thought of having to spend time here even more. I’m fairly sure his sentence would be extended if he killed some of us off.”

“Well, I’m glad I have you,” Grover declares.

“What, for help with monsters?” Y/N asks.

Grover weighs the risk, and decides to go for it. “Not just the monsters,” he whispers.

When he dares to look back at Y/N, he realizes that they’re beaming at him. It appears that this trip through the woods may have a far better outcome than Grover ever expected.

[kiatheinsomniac]

Notes: I couldn't resist developing this modern AU a little more - there was just so much to be done and I love Thranduil's older, experienced and dominant role. I mentioned in Sweeter Than Poetry that he is a politician in this AU so I wanted to play on that idea with some darker themes hehe. Consider Sweeter Than Poetry the prologue to this AU.

Pairing: Modern-ish! Thranduil x Reader

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: themes of controlling behaviour

Covert as a Secret (AU)

You wandered around the office as you waited for Thranduil to come and meet you: he was on a work call and he liked to keep his work and private lives separate. You had been seeing him for some months now and you were still adjusting to the luxury that he drowned you with: you had your own flat now – much larger than your old student accommodation – he insisted on spoiling you with gifts that you could never afford on your own and you had come to find that it was impossible to reject anything that he offered you as he would never take no for an answer. He doted on you as a mortal and would always ask if you had eaten or drank enough that day when he called you and you honestly enjoyed having someone who looked after you as he did. 

Legolas still didn’t know about your relationship with his father and you found yourself talking to him less out of guilt. This would very likely ruin your friendship and you would feel absolutely rotten for being the cause of strain between a father and son. No, it wasn’t entirely your fault and Thranduil was equally to blame but in Legolas’ eyes you would be the friend that slept with his father and his father would be the one to have moved on from his mother with his best friend - a much heavier blame. The two of you had decided that it would be best for Thranduil to break the news to him: he would do so in his own time unless your conscience began to weigh too heavily in which case he would allow you to tell his son, but only if you informed him beforehand. 

Your fingers skimmed over a file that was out of place on the desk and left open: very unlike your lover who left his desk so meticulously organised. You were never really all that interested in Thranduil’s life as politics bored you but you wanted a distraction while you waited for him. You flipped the folder open to skim-read the first page and your face dropped. This was a plan for complete censorship of anyone who spoke out against him: mainstream media companies being bought by shell companies that he owned, pay-offs to owners of social medias to ban any content that pointed out grand flaws in his campaign, utter reduction of free speech against him while boosting his image. You turned the next page and found a few names of some opponents you had never heard of and what they had been blackmailed with drop out of the political sphere entirely. 

You didn’t need to be an expert on politics to know that this was corrupt. 

What would happen if he found out that you knew? It’s not like you would want to tell anyone: a selfish thought, you knew, but you had little interest in that sort of stuff and you enjoyed your life with Thranduil in it. Things were easier, you were happier and you didn’t want to get wrapped up in any of this shady behind-the-scenes stuff. You tried to set the folder back exactly as you found it and leaned on the desk to calm yourself for a moment. This was serious stuff and you absolutely shouldn’t know about it. 

“As much as you might deny it, I really do think that you have a knack for snooping.” You gasped at the voice right by your ear and whipped around to find your pale-haired lover looming over you. 

“I…” You didn’t know what to say, swallowing hard instead. 

“What is it that you think you’ve seen?” His hands landed on the desk on either side of you and you found it impossible to meet his eyes. You shrugged. 

“Nothing I understand, you know I’m not interested in all that political stuff.” Fingers pressed into your cheeks and forced you to look into his eyes at last. 

“I don’t keep stupid company and you pick apart and analyse texts for a degree. What is it that you think you’ve seen?” His grip eased up to allow you to speak and, for the first time since you’ve known him, you were afraid of him. 

“You’re censoring the public opinion, controlling what’s being said of you and making your image look immaculately clean. You’re blackmailing people into dropping out of competition against you.” There was a growing smirk at the corner of his lips as he tilted his head a little, gently pushing some hair away from your face. 

“And what do you infer from that, little one?” He smiled at you like a barracuda and suddenly you felt like a damned goldfish compared to him. 

“You’re hiding something serious.” He cupped your face in his hands and you couldn’t help but find his behaviour odd – it felt like he was trying to lure you into a false sense of security. 

“Clever girl.” He drawled out before leaning in to kiss you and you hesitantly brought your hands to rest on his shoulders, wrists coming to cross at the back of his neck as you gently tangled your fingers in his white hair. When he pulled away, his eyes were dark and you felt utterly vulnerable under them as his hands on your cheeks skimmed down to wrap around your throat, “And are you going to tell anyone about this?” You quickly shook your head, eyes flickering between his to try and read some of his thoughts but he had years to perfect this mask and you would see nothing that he didn’t want you to. “Really?” 

“I’m selfish when it comes to you.” You murmured, “I don’t want to lose what we have.” He seemed quite surprised by your answer and smiled, taking a step closer and backing you into the desk, body pressed against yours, “I’m already hiding us from my best friend.” 

“There are people who would give you a lot of money for what you’ve just found out.” He tested. 

“You already give me everything I need.” He groaned a little at your words and one of his hands went down to rest at your hip, very pleased. 

“You don’t want to be remembered as the hero who stopped the tyrant?” His lips skimmed over yours and you sighed, shaking your head minutely. 

“I’ve never been the heroic type… I just want a life with you and, by the looks of it, I couldn’t really stop you if I tried.” He heard a double meaning to your words that you didn’t register until they left your mouth and you melted into his body when he kissed you again: slowly, carefully, in the way that a predator would stalk prey. His hands roamed over your curves and you tugged softly at his hair again as he licked into your mouth and pulled away to press a hot kiss beneath your ear. 

“One of the many things I like about you: you don’t ask the wrong questions.” Another peck to your lips and, despite your heart racing, you craved for the dominating feeling of his hands around your throat again. Perhaps your thoughts were too blatant on your face because that smile of his quickly returned and he was looking at you with endearment. “You have that look in your eyes.” He teased. 

“What look?” You murmured, reaching up on your toes for another kiss but it was impossible to do so if he didn’t meet you halfway. 

“That needy one.” You looked away in embarrassment: sure he had utterly dominated you more times than you cared to keep count of by now but it was embarrassing when he caught you wanting to submit to him in less-sexual contexts. 

“And so what if I want you? Isn’t that one of the reasons why you invited me over?” He found the combination of your hot cheeks and pouting lips utterly adorable. 

“One of them, yes, but we’re going to collect your stuff first.” He took a step away from you and took your hand in his, encouraging you to take his arm. 

“What? I didn’t think I’d be staying the night, you said that you have to work early tomorrow.”

“I do have to work, as you’ve discovered, and you’ll be staying for a lot longer than the night.” 

“What? Thranduil, what about Legolas? I have classes, I can’t stay longer than-” A hand tangling in your hair forced you to tilt your head back and his lips crashed onto yours, making you gasp in surprise. He was soon teasing your lower lip between his teeth and his hand in your hair kept you close when he withdrew just enough to break the kiss. 

“Haven’t I done nothing but look after you since you first stumbled into my library?” You nodded your head as much as his grip would allow, utterly lost at his sudden change in behaviour and the way he had shut you up with the kiss. 

“So trust that I’ll continue to care for each of your needs and do as I say.” He whispered. 

“You’re asking me to blindly agree, Thranduil…” 

“You’ve let me blindfold you before, is this so different?” There was amusement in his voice. Your eyes flickered away from him, looking for some courage to speak up. This ellon could have you eating out of the palm of his hand if he so desired and you knew that there was something much deeper to whatever he was planning, you could feel it. 

“It is, it… tell me what you have planned.” A lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth: he was trying to distract you. 

“An evening of pleasure for you, that’s all.” 

“Then why do I need to go and get my things?” You wanted to search those bright blue eyes for answers but knew it would be fruitless, “What aren’t you telling me? Whatever I saw in that file, I won’t speak a word of-” The way he quickly withdrew your closeness and steeled his expression made you stop. You had pressed too far too soon. 

“I’ve done nothing but care for you and now you question me?”

“No, I don’t, I just…” You glanced back over to that stupid file and could feel your chest restrict anxiously. You never should have picked it up, “Something in you has changed now that I’ve seen that and I’m still not utterly sure what it is. Don’t you trust me to keep my mouth shut?” He sighed and reached out to caress your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“No, I don’t, so I’m going to be keeping you here for as long as I see fit.” The widening of your eyes must have given away your sudden fear because a dark aura now seemed to seep from him. You would have to assure him otherwise if you wanted to alleviate the situation. Your hands dropped to one of his, covering it with both of yours as you nodded your head. 

“Ok, that’s ok, I understand.” 

“You’re saying that to please me.”

“I’m saying it because it’s the most sensible option.” You replied, “Your career is important and influential and you don’t want something threatening that, I understand. I’ll stay to prove that I can be trusted and because I know you’ll treat me well.” 

“I just told you that I’m going to keep you here whether you like it or not and your reaction is to agree?” 

“What else am I to do? Fight? Run? Where will that get me? I’ve done nothing intentionally wrong so I have no reason to do either of those. I’ll stay with you.” He laced his fingers with yours and smiled down at you. 

“Why must you be so perfect for me?” He sighed, a finger crooked beneath your chin making you look up. 

“Perhaps it’s fate.” You quipped, leaning onto your toes in the hope that he’d kiss you again. 

“I thought fate was a convention of tragedy.” He hummed as he dipped his head downwards, breath softly fanning over your lips. 

“Then I’ll savour you while I can.” And you pushed yourself up just a little more, enough to be able to sweetly kiss him, his hand squeezing yours when you both pulled away. The hand holding yours coaxed you to take his arm instead and he led you to his car. 

∴.·:*¨ ¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

When you returned to Thranduil’s grand home, this time with your bag packed, he showed you to a guest room down the hall from his bedroom and you got to unpacking, deciding to leave sending off absence emails until last. By the time you got your laptop out from your bag, Thranduil took it from your grasp and held out one of his hands expectantly. 

“Your phone.” Suddenly, the weight of the device in your back pocket felt like a suit of armour and you weren’t keen to give it up in such circumstances, no matter how much you trusted him. 

“Thranduil, I’ve agreed to stay, I’ve told you that I won’t share your secrets. Is this necessary?” Your brows furrowed and it hurt you to feel that you trusted him more than he did you. 

“It is and I swear to you that I’ll return them tomorrow afternoon.” Which meant he would likely be searching through them to make sure that you hadn’t already put any sensitive information out there. You hadn’t, but you really didn’t want your lover seeing what you did with the combination of anonymity and the internet - yes, he knew all of your kinks and fantasies already but it would be embarrassing for him to find out just how much you read about them, let alone the things you had written. You bit on your lip as you reached behind you. 

“Only because I understand how important your career is…” You said as you took the flat device from your pocket, “But no going through anything personal, alright?” He took it from your hand and held it with the laptop, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your brow in reward for your compliance. 

“Don’t worry, little one, it will all be done professionally.” He assured you. “Go wait in my bedroom for me, won’t you? I’ll be there in five minutes.” A smirk played at the corners of his lips, “Try not to snoop while you’re there.” 

“I do not snoop.” You pouted. 

“If you didn’t then we never would have met and neither would you be staying here for the foreseeable future.” He replied with a little tap to your chin before leaving to go and hide your stuff Gods know where. 

∴.·:*¨ ¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

You woke in the night, reaching for your phone on the nightstand to check the time before realising that you no longer had it. You deduced that it must be somewhere between three and five AM because you felt ridiculously thirsty and that tended to happen within that strange window of time. You, instead, reached for the glass of water that Thranduil had brought you after that evening’s strenuous activities, downing whatever was left of it before settling back down, turning on your side to take in the sight of your lover. He was laid on his back, white hair fanned out around him, chest steadily rising and falling. The silken sheet covered his lower half and you knew that he was bare beneath, you both were, but the thought still practically made your mouth water, even after the amount of times you had slept together. 

You reached out to brush some hair from his shoulder, fingertips tracing his bruised collarbone, making you smile to yourself a little. You were quite surprised when his eye cracked open a little and he took in a deep breath before turning onto his side and shuffling closer to you, throwing an arm over your waist and pulling you close. 

“Is everything alright?” He murmured against the top of your head, sweeping some of your hair away from your face with his hand before his palm began to rub up and down your back, making you melt against him. 

“Yeah…” You hummed, “I just wanted a drink.” You felt his lips press to the crown of your head. 

“You fit so perfectly in my arms…” He hummed and it made you sigh in comfort against him, burying your face in his chest. 

“I like the way you make me feel when you hold me.” You whispered and he held you tighter, feeling the way you nuzzled against his pale skin. “You make me feel safe. I trust you.” 

“And I wish to trust you too but you must understand that I need to test that first.” A minute nod of your head. It stung a little, yes, but you could set your heart aside for a moment and understand his perspective with ease. “I will miss you every moment tomorrow and I promise that I will return as soon as I can.” He spoke softly against your hair and you wrapped your arms around him, adoring the simple skin-on-skin contact. “I want you to think me not cruel for keeping you here – especially not alone.” Your lips curled into a smile against his skin. 

“I like when you’re tired.” You mused, “Your voice sounds sexy and you start speaking in an older fashioned way.” His hands squeezed your waist. 

“I am inclined to say that you’re calling me old.” He mumbled and you tilted your head up to look at him. 

“Aren’t you? In my eyes, at least.” He was trying to frown but it wasn’t really working out, his smile easily seeping through the cracks. 

“Go to sleep, my sweet little mortal, you need it more than I do.” Another thing you adored about him, even if he could be somewhat overbearing with it at times: he fussed incessantly over your health due to your mortality. You once sneezed thrice in a row in front of him and he got right to finding the contact information of a private doctor, should you ever need medical treatment. He made you feel so utterly cared for in every way and perhaps that was why, like a fly drinking up the sweetness of a venus fly trap, you stayed and obeyed each of his commands and wishes. Had your life not immensely improved since you first met him? You trusted him to continue to dote over your every need, no matter how temporary it could feel from time to time when you let your mind wander to the future a bit too much. 

∴.·:*¨ ¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

When you awoke in the morning, you found yourself alone in Thranduil’s bed and turned over to find a cup of coffee and a plate of various fruits. A little card was propped up beside it and you blinked some of the sleep from your eyes as you propped yourself up on an elbow to read it: ‘I should be back at some point in the afternoon, little one, feel free to wander this wing of the house’. You sat up properly to help yourself to some of the fruit and the coffee that had already gone cold, not that you minded that. 

So, you decided to busy yourself for the day: heading back to that guest room to shower in the ensuite there before making your way to the library, grabbing the first piece of fiction that caught your eyes before curling up by the fireplace. 

The book kept you distracted for a few hours until your mind wandered to the fact that there were more files sitting on that desk yesterday evening. You understood why he couldn’t trust you with something so big but that didn’t mean that you didn’t like it. You bit on your lip as you thought about his study. Would he have locked it to keep you out? You glanced over to the direction of the library door, setting the book down and making your way down the steps, pulling your oversized cardigan around your body as you made your way back into the corridor and down to the door of his study. 

Your eyes rose to the ceiling, looking around for cameras and, despite not being able to see any, you knew better than to doubt that there weren’t any at all. Your head turned back to the door handle and you slowly reached forwards to press down on it, feeling the door push backwards. You let it fall open and peered inside at the tidy desk, few seats and bookshelves. The files were still sitting there. You took one step inside to grab the door handle again and close it. You only wanted to know that he had left it unlocked while you were here, what you had seen in those files had caused enough trouble already and you weren’t keen to create more for yourself.

When Thranduil returned, he found you in the very seat in the library where he had once laid you down and covered you in his blazer on the night that you met. 

“You went into my study today…” His voice spoke lowly in your ear as his arms draped over your shoulder. 

“Only by a step. I opened the door and closed it again right after.” You tilted your head back to look at him over your shoulder, his face incredibly close to yours and you could see how his long, white hair was swept back into a ponytail just above the nape of his neck. 

“Why?” He asked, lips brushing against your temple as he turned over the book in your hands to see what you were reading. 

“I just wanted to see whether or not you’d locked it.” He let your statement hang in the air for a moment before his hands on your shoulders ran down your arms and you turned your head to capture his lips in a kiss, hands coming up to rest against the curve of his defined jaw, making you frown a little as you pulled away. “You’re tense.” You mumbled against his lips. 

“Never chase a career in politics, darling.” He sighed as he rounded the couch to sit beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulder. 

“I wasn’t planning on it.” You replied with a faint smile, reaching up to take his hand in yours. 

“I simply wish for a quiet evening with you after dealing with that dwarf Lord all day.” He threw his head back to rest against the backrest of the sofa. “He’s still fighting to reclaim some centuries-old gold from the dragons but it’s not a matter that needs to be discussed in the Senate and, quite frankly, is a waste of everyone else’s time. Funding the Guardians should be a bigger priority with the way that these killings are getting out of hand.” You had heard all about the gruesome murders that everyone was talking about: the case had been handed up to higher-up law enforcement that dealt with crimes where magic was involved.

“We can have a quiet evening.” You spoke softly, setting the book down and throwing a leg over his lap to straddle his waist, making him tilt his head down just a little to crack his eyes open and peer at you. You coaxed him out of the silver blazer with its deep red inside until he was left in the matching silver shirt and his fitted grey trousers. You began to massage the tense muscles of his shoulders and he let out a sigh as his hands came to rest upon your thighs. You leaned in to press a kiss to his throat when your hands began to move down to his biceps. 

“I’ll return your belongings to you soon, the agent I handed them off to was supposed to have delivered them in the day but he can become quite obsessive with his work so I suspect that he won’t drop by until this evening.” You nodded your head at his words, too distracted by the feeling of his muscles.

“That’s ok.” You mumbled, adoring the huskiness of his voice as he allowed you to melt the tenseness from his body with your hands. He slowly brought his head up to look at you when you allowed your hips to minutely roll against his, feeling how his hands squeezed the plush flesh of your thighs. “We should have a bath…” You suggested, fingers massaging the back of his neck and you peppered light kisses along his jaw. 

His hands came up to cup your face, thumbs smoothing over your cheeks, feeling the warm flush of your blush beneath his hands. He tilted his head a little as he took in the sight of you, fingers skimming over your skin and wondering to himself what he would do should he be without you. He never intended to fall for you as he did, originally being content with sex and seeing you be spoilt by all the money and gifts he could shower you with but he found himself falling in love with the parts of you that were revealed in time: your loyalty, your intelligence, your affectionate gestures. 

“That sounds wonderful, darling.” He pushed such thoughts aside for now, instead smiling at the squeal you let out as he took you up in his arms, carrying you towards the bathroom. Your life was fleeting compared to his and so he would make sure that he treasured whatever time he had with you. You rested your arms on his shoulders to smile down at him as you leaned forwards to kiss him sweetly. 

P.S: I just can't resist making the reader an anti-hero, I just love that type so much <3

[silverynight]

Uzui, a flamboyant matchmaker

"Listen, I'm the expert here... I have three wives after all," Tengen grins, prompting his two fellow hashira in front of him to look back in confusion.

Well, Kyojuro looks at him in confusion, Giyuu just quirks up one of his dark brows at him.

"Also, I consider myself your friend, yes, even yours Tomioka. So I'll be giving you some advice on how to woo Kamado in a very flamboyant way, of course! He'll love it!" He continues, walking in front of them, hands on his back. He's not going to say it out loud, but he's enjoying it. "And then one of you will marry him."

"I never said anything about... liking him that way," Giyuu protests, although he doesn't deny it either and by the slight blush on his cheeks, Tengen knows he's right.

"You haven't," he agrees. "Although I must say that the fact that you only smile at him is quite telling."

Kyojuro's reaction is completely different; the flame hashira nods and sits on the ground in front of him.

"I'm willing to listen" he looks eager to hear whatever Tengen has to say, although it doesn't surprise him, he's never been subtle after all. Too bad the boy is painfully oblivious.

"I don't need advice," Giyuu says and he certainly doesn't sit, but he doesn't walk away either.

"Perfect, let's begin!" The sound hashira says, clapping his hands together to get their full attention.

***

Kocho is the one that personally leads Tanjirou and his friends to the main garden; three of the hashira he knows pretty well are talking passionately about something.

Tanjirou doesn't want to interrupt them, especially now that he notices that for some reason Tomioka is getting quite irritated.

"What are they doing? Is that an official hashira meeting?"

The insect hashira smiles at him in a way that tells Tanjirou he just asked the question she desperately wanted to answer.

Although that's not always a good sign.

"Tengen is giving them a few ideas on how to flamboyantly flirt with you," she begins, ignoring the way Inosuke and Zenitsu gasp.

"Well, actually I don't know what flirt means, is that a new fighting technique? I'LL HELP YOU DEFEAT THEM, SANTARO!"

Tanjirou decides that the best thing is to ignore Inosuke too. He also tries not to look in the hashira's direction, although it's really difficult to fight the blush on his cheeks.

"Is this some kind of... joke?"

"Of course not! They're pretty serious about it! They want to see who gets to marry you!"

"WHAT?" This time the one that yells is Zenitsu.

It's too late, everyone heard his voice. The three hashira nearby as well.

For a moment, Tanjirou wants to hide, but they have already seen him, besides, he's not the type to run away from his problems.

"My boy!" Rengoku says at the same time Tomioka offers one of those rare smiles of his and mumbles: "Tanjirou..."

Uzui has crossed his arms and is grinning approvingly in the background which only makes Tanjirou feel even more flustered.

"I'll bring some flowers for you!"

Since when Rengoku cares about flowers?

"Would you like to... go get something to eat?"

Since when Tomioka sounds so hesitant and nervous?

Tanjirou looks over their shoulders and notices that Uzui is watching with interest. Then he realizes that they're actually following his advice...

Feeling like his cheeks are burning, Tanjirou looks up at the water hashira and the flame hashira.

"I do like you," he mumbles, flustered. "I like both of you. More than a friend would like another... But I can't–don't make me choose! You probably deserve better than me anyway. So... Let's be friends, because that's the only way that I can be with you both without being selfish... I'm sorry."

It's too much for him; he's ready to flee, but Rengoku takes him in his arms and he's so warm and gentle that Tanjirou immediately feels better.

"My boy, you don't have to choose if you don't want to," he assures, confusing him. But then he releases him so Tomioka can pull him into a hug as well.

"We can make it work, the three of us." He says and before Tanjirou's blush can spread even further down, Rengoku kisses him on the cheek.

"That's right! Besides, we have so little free time for ourselves that I think the two of us can give you the attention and love you deserve better than one."

Suddenly, Tanjirou is very much aware that a few people are listening intently to what Rengoku just said.

"Two husbands! Excellent! I'm ashamed that I didn't think about it first!" Uzui approves, prying Tanjirou from Tomioka's possessive arms, ignoring the way Rengoku growls. "I'm so proud of you, Kamado! We almost match! Wait, I think you'll need a third husband."

Tanjirou tries to argue that they haven't even talked properly about their relationship and that it's way too soon to think about marriage, but Uzui pulls him up, like he weighs nothing and stares at him as if he's seriously considering... something.

"I wonder if... No, that'd be too complicated, we'd become a huge family. Sometimes my household is way too much to handle so–"

"Tengen!"

Uzui laughs and puts Tanjirou back on the ground.

"Don't need to be that grumpy, Tomioka. We all are friends here!"

Even though the water hashira is the one glaring at Uzui, is Rengoku the one that puts his arms around Tanjirou.

"I'll find you a husband in no time!" Uzui promises and Tanjirou hopes he forgets about it soon but then he looks past Kocho, who's trying so hard not to laugh and then he grins: "The others have arrived! Hey, Muichiro, come here!"

Even though Tokito gets distracted very easily, Uzui is loud enough to catch his attention. He also beams at Tanjirou as soon as he sees him.

"Would you like to be Kamado's third husband?"

Tanjirou chokes, turning completely red.

"Tokito-san he's just joki–"

"Of course!" The mist hashira says, without hesitation. "I've always known I'd be the third one. The other two will die under mysterious circumstances that no one will be able to–"

"There won't be need for that, Muichiro," Uzui cuts him off. "I meant at the same time."

"Oh," he says, looking back at Tomioka and Rengoku before staring at Tanjirou again. "That sounds better actually."

"There! Now you have three husbands, Kamado! Very flamboyant of you. At dinner I'll be answering all the questions you have about spouses and how to keep them happy."

Instead of telling him that he hasn't even married anyone yet, Tanjirou finally decides to cover his face with his hands.

It's just too much for one day.

***

Patreon

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 36

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: smut, oral (female receiving), angst (18+)

A/N: all i can say is alexA PLAY NO BODY NO CRIME. hope you enjoy it xx

NEXT CHAPTER

There had been no honeymoon or even an honeymoon period for Bucky and Y/N. It wasn’t like he could even leave the state much less the country without the danger of being accused of kidnapping his own wife and even if they could, whatever free time the two of them had between Y/N working and Bucky, now fired, collecting as much evidence which proved he was innocent, was spent in his lawyer’s office trying to build a defence. He tried his best to keep her out of it, to give her some sense of normality, some sense of being a regular newlywed couple but he knew she wasn’t stupid, he knew she would notice whenever he’d had a particular rough day and Bucky was getting worse and worse at hiding how he felt during those particular days. “Court is going to be a circus, you cannot engage no matter how much you want to” his lawyer would tell him time and time again after pointing out what the prosecutors would most likely use against him. What could he say? There was a lot they could use about him, not only just from his Winter Soldier days. 

The days quickly rush through and soon enough the court day arrived. He’d barely slept the night before, his mind going through what could happen, what they would say, what they’d do once they discovered he and Y/N were married. There was just too much on his mind which weighed down on him until early morning when he could finally catch some sleep. Just as he was in soft sleep, he felt the bed rustle and the warmth which was so familiarly hers, left the bed. Bucky groaned, turning around in bed and hoping she’d just gone to the bathroom and would return soon. However, as time went by he could only hear footsteps going side to side in a frantic motion. He grumbled, opening his eyes to check on what his wife was doing. Taking a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table, the 4AM number flashed at him. 4 AM, what is she doing at four in the morning? He rubbed the sleep of his eyes, raising his torso to sit down in bed only to see the room was empty. He grabbed his trousers from the floor, hastily putting them on before exiting the room. Y/N was leaning against the kitchen tabletop only wearing his blue henley and nursing a cup of what he guessed was some sort of peppermint tea, based on the scent. She couldn’t sleep. 

    - What’s wrong? - Bucky approached her slowly, his hands resting upon her hips once he was close enough. She looked at him through her lashes, placing the mug on the marbled surface before leaning her head against his chest, her hands flat against his biceps. - Do you want to talk about it? 

    - I have a bad feeling. - she said but it sounded more like a muffled mumble, as if she didn’t want him to hear it. - I can’t sleep. 

    - It’s gonna be okay. - he cupped her face, his thumbs grazing her jawbone on each side of her face. - You said it yourself, your father’s friend is a good lawyer. He’s not gonna let anything happen to you, I am not gonna let anything happen to you.

    - It’s not me I’m worried about. - her hand meet his on her face. 

    - You don’t need to be worried about me. You think a court room scares me, princess? I’ve been through worse. Besides, you know I didn’t do it. Other than speculation, what proof do they have?

    - I don’t know ... - she looked down once again. 

    - C’mon, princess. I want to cuddle with my wife while I still can.

    - Those jokes are not funny, Bucky. - she rolled her eyes at him. For whatever reason, he had taken to deal with all of it by merely making jokes out of it but she, she was scared. She knew the public wasn’t particular found of Bucky and a weak case would lead to the jury voting against him. 

She couldn’t sleep, no matter how much she tried, and if it wasn’t that, it was her agency constantly trying to force her into psychiatric analysis by various experts. She wanted to ask him how he felt, what he thought about all of it yet whenever he did, he would just laugh it off or kiss her. Steve and Sam weren’t much help either, mostly hiding it from her what they knew and Sharon knew as little as she knew. There was nothing she could do but worry about him. It wasn’t like her view was particularly valued by the court who either believed her to be on some sort of Stockholm Syndrome or being held over some sort of control by Bucky. 

Bucky looked at her, watching how she would furrow her brows and slightly scrunch her nose whenever she was deep into thought. He’d rather not think about it, about the court, about what they were saying about him in the media. He’d rather not think about it, it just didn’t matter. She, however, did matter to him. Simple and plain. If it came between her own safety and peace of mine and his, she’d come first. Whatever happened, what mattered was keeping her safe, ensuring. whatever happened didn’t hurt her or destroyed her career. She was good, too good for him. In all honesty, he’d started to believe she was too good for anyone in her own environment. She deserved her happy ending, the riding into sunset, ensemble waving her off ending. She did and he would give it to her, even if he wasn’t in it. 

     - Why don’t you let me take your mind off it? - he moved his hand under the henley, leaning down to kiss her half exposed shoulder. She whimpered, her hand holding onto his bicep as his kisses climbed from her shoulder blades, to her neck, to the spot just below her ear lobe in a slow manner. 

Bucky turned her around, her back against his shirtless chest as his hands wandered under the henley, feeling the warmth of his skin as his fingers lightly drew upward lines from her belly to just under her breasts. He chuckled under his breast, leaning down once more to kiss her neck as his hands cupped her naked breasts under the shirt. Her hand gripped the stone from the kitchen balcony as a hot flush started to overcome her face as body. He ran his thumb over her perked buds, watching her get goosebumps and squirm merely by his touch as if she hadn’t been touched for years.

     - You like it when I touch you, hm, princess? - he hummed against the back of her neck. She averted her eyes, looking at what was in front of her to contain the flush that only seemed to further spread. - Isn’t this sweet? You’re still shy when I touch you, princess. 

     - I’m not. - she bite her lower lip, gasping as he pinched one of  her nipples without any prior warning. Bucky laughed against her skin, moving his lips to kiss yet another spot below her ear

    - Perhaps you like it a bit too much. - he whispered against her ear. 

Instead of keeping with his motions, he merely took his hands from under her shirt, leaving her to miss his touch as he stepped away from her to grab one of the whiskey bottles which laid in a silver platter with some glasses. She pouted, eyebrows furrowed as he poured himself a drink and rose his glass to his lips, swallowing the strong amber liquid in one gulp. She watched him with an almost angry look, yet she knew that was the last thing she looked like, following a small droplet which fell down from his lips, to his chin and down his neck. She opened her mouth but he beat her to it, boyish almost arrogant smile at her dishevelled look and irregular breathing. 

    - Ask for it. - he put the glass upside down on the sink, leaning against the opposite balcony with his arms crossed.

    - What?

    - Don’t be shy. Ask for it. You know I always give you what you want, princess. Just ask for it. - he beckoned. -  Or are you too shy? 

    - I’m not shy. - she adverted his gaze. 

    - Okay then. 

Y/N watched as he left the kitchen and walked up to his bedroom. She pouted out of frustration before following him down the hall and inside the bedroom, her socks almost slipping on the hardwood floor from how fast her pace was. He was laid down in bed, torso against the bed frame and head slightly cocked to the side. She stood in front of the bed with a look which he could only describe as the most adorable angry look he’d ever seen. 

    - It’s not fair. Why do I have to ask?

    - I can’t read your mind, princess. How would I know what you want? 

    - Fine. - she sat down on top of his lap, hands on his shoulders while her chin was down almost touching her sternum. He was enjoying this way too much. She looked to the side before looking into his eyes. - Can you do it? Please?

    - Do what? - he kissed her shoulder, his fingers toying with the hem of her shirt as she struggled to let herself say it. - Come on, princess. 

    - You know what I want. - she moved her head to the side, allowing him a better access to her neck. 

    - Yes, I do. - he stopped kissing her to pick her chin, raising it up. - C’mon, tell me, just tell me. I know you’re a good girl, you’re not gonna stop being my good girl if you tell me what you want.

She looked at the ceiling biting the inside of her bottom lip. Stubborn, she was definitely being stubborn, he thought to himself. His hands held her hips tightly, his thumb grazing her hipbone through the fabric of the henley, and he started to push her back and forward against his clothed cock. She was taken by surprise, hands holding onto his shoulders not to lose balance as he continued to control her movements. She could feel his cock against the thin fabric of her underwear, the feeling itself tight in her lower abdomen. 

He watched her face as he rubbed her against him, her lips partially opened, eyes shut tight, hands holding onto his shoulders as she tried to get a hold of herself. It didn’t take long for her to hide her face in his neck, moaning against his skin as he continued to move her back and forward in his lap. 

   - It’s really easy to rile you up, princess. - he chuckled through his own breathlessness, the movements and feeling of her clothed core making him hard. Her grip tightened on his shoulders and as it did, he stopped his movement, stilling her right on top of his hard cock.

   - Buck ... - she whimpered, head still buried by his neck. She tried to move her hips, get back the momentum but he had a death-like grip on her hips, not allowing for any movements.

   - Nice try, princess. - he chuckled. - Come on, tell me what you want. 

   - Bucky! - she whined, moving her head to look at him. - Please.

   - You know I’ll do it. - he moved under her for a slow second, before stilling once again. - But you’ll have to ask me, princess.

   - Fuck ... - she mumbled, trying to go against his strength. - James, please. 

   - You can keep trying, princess. - he kissed up from her neck to her ear, whispering against it. - I’m not gonna fuck you until you as for it. 

   - Please. - she tried to move again but failed. Bucky threw her onto the other side of the bed, pinning her under him. - Bucky, please.

   - You can beg all you want, princess. I’m not going to fuck you. However ... - he hooked his finger on the sides of her underwear, slowly pushing it down her legs and throwing it to the side. - I do think I can get it out of you. 

Bucky put her legs on each of his shoulder, hands caressing her skin from her calf to her hip, a trail which his lips followed suit, kissing the inside of her thigh up to the hem of the henley she was wearing. He pulled the fabric off her, throwing it somewhere in the bedroom before continuing his trail of kisses. His lips drew a line from her hip up to her breast before climbing up to her collarbones. 

    - You even smell sweet. - he mumbled against her skin, playfully bitting her collarbone before kissing her. - I did really get myself a sweet wife, didn’t I?

    - Bucky, stop teasing. - she pleaded, hands coming up to play with the hair on his nape. 

    - Not sweet enough to chance my mind though. - he gave her a mischievous look, kissing down her body once again and stopping at her thighs. 

He once again propped her legs on top his shoulders, leaning dow to slowly kiss her inner thighs as if she were a goddess, and she was. He continued to kiss her thighs, getting closer and closer to her core until he kissed her swollen bud, still sensitive from grinding on him. Her hand gripped the sheets, face looking to the other side as she instinctively tried to close her legs but he stopped her. Her back arched as he dragged a long lick from her hole to her clit, hands holding her hips closer to his face and face digging deeper with each lick. Bucky moaned against her core, the vibrations only making her shiver more with each lick. Her extended her hand up to his hair, pulling at the roots which made him moan even more. She was more whining than moaning as he started to pay more attention to her clit in each lick until she felt herself start go over the edge. Just as that white-like feeling became closer and closer he stopped, bringing her legs back to the mattress.

Y/N looked up, her chest going up and down, hand grabbing onto the sheet and pleading eyes. Bucky smirked, licking his lips and dragging his thumb across the sides. 

    - No, Bucky please.

    - I told you so, princess. - he leaned down, his face dangerously close to hers. - You have to say it. 

    - Please fuck me. - her voice was meek, filled with desperation and plea filled eyes which he could just not deny. 

Bucky kissed her harshly, pushing his trousers off before leaning down to kiss her again. Her hand rested upon the nape of his neck as he thrusted inside of her. 

     - Fuck, princess. - he chuckled breathlessly as he started to thrust in and out of her at a slow pace. - Not a fucking stutter. You were really frustrated weren’t you, princess? So good to me.

She nodded through her pleasure, holding onto him, her feet pressing onto his ass as he continued to thrust in and out of her. Fuck, he could do this for the rest of his days and be happy. He took his time to reach a faster pace, enjoying the feeling of her tight and warm walls around his cock. He moved the hair away from her face, kissing her in a messy yet long kiss. 

    - Bucky, faster, please. - she begged between his kisses.

    - Aw, so you can talk, princess. - he teased, bringing his thrusting to a halt before starting a fast pace. 

She moved her hands from the nape of his neck to his biceps, holding onto them as she quivered, moans coming uncontrollably from her lips. Bucky continued with his pace, basking in all her moans and his name coming from her lips. Y/N whimpered, her hole pulsating as she fast approached her own release until she let out a high pitch moan, her walls contracting around his cock as her back fell completely onto the mattress. Bucky continued to pump into her and she looked up. She watched him from her dazed out state, his face contorted into pleasure, pleasure that she was giving him. His thrusts started to become sloppy and slow until he stilled into her, groaning as ropes and ropes of cum filled her. He groaned once more, leaning down onto her shoulder, his nose nuzzling against her neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist, rolling so she stood on top of him. He softened inside of her and pulled out, mumbling “shit” as he watched him cum leak out of her. If there ever was a sight, it was that. 

    - I think you achieved your goal. - she kissed his nose, quickly returning to that sweet face of hers. 

   - You’re gonna be my downfall. - he laughed, kissing her before holding her close to her. - Let me go grab a cloth to clean you up, princess.

   - No, I need to shower. Court. 

   - Fine. We will shower.

Bucky held her tightly against his chest before climbing out of bed and walking to the bathroom. The two of them laid in the tub, feeling the warm water but she was more interested in feeling him, memorising every feel and every part of him before the two of them had to be in court. She wanted to be positive, she really did, but she also knew without any proof it is up to the jury to decide. He’ll be fine, he’ll be fine. She’s not going to let anyone hurt him.

The rest of the morning seemed to go by on a blur, a quick one and soon the two of them were in Bucky’s car, parked in front of the court. She looked at that building as if it held the whole of hell within, gaze not averting from the building as if constantly staring would make it disappear. Sadly, it wouldn’t disappear. It’s here.

   - Can you check my tie? - Bucky tried to take her eyes from the building, turning slightly and messing up his tie without her seeing it. 

   - Of course. - her hands were shaking as she pulled the knot up, smoothing the fabric down. - You look so handsome. 

   - I’m not going off to war, princess. - he rose her chin. - It’s just us, princess. Just us. 

   - Sharon is here right? 

   - Sam, Steve and Sharon are here. You are not gonna be alone in the bench and I’m gonna be just in front of you. - he leaned his forehead against hers. - When all this shit is over we’ll go have cheesy chips and watch Phantom. What about that?

   - I’d like that.

   - Let’s go. - he opened his door and walked out and to her door, opening it for her too. Y/N climbed out and sighed. 

It’s gonna be fine, it’s gonna be fine, she told herself as they climbed up the stairs to the courthouse. Everyone was looking at them, they shot dagger looks at him and looked at her as if she was a mere lamb. His hand left hers as he went to meet with his legal team leaving her in the middle of all the people she knew. Some of them were from her agency, actually most of them were from her agency, some were doctors which had tried to analyse her and at the corner, Ms. Olson, Mr. Hawthorne and Mr. Powell. She sighed, putting on a smile. Just breathe, Y/N.

    - Y/N. - she turned around to see Sam, Steve, Sharon and Chuck. Sharon gave her a short hug, patting her back. - How are you?

    - Well, I’m still on my feet so I would say well. 

    - That’s my girl. - Chuck patted her shoulder. - Let’s win a trial. 

Y/N had been in courthouses before. As a child, whenever her mother wasn’t around, her father would bring her in to more child friendly cases and back then she was always astonished by rooms, always happy to sit down and watch the trials but now ... now as she walked into the room, everything was somber and dark. The mahogany wasn’t as shiny as she remembered as a child and the jury looked at Bucky as if they were ready to hang him. Sam led her to one of the front benches and the five of them sat down. Her eyes were on the back of Bucky’s head, her hand clenching the dog tags she was still wearing. It becomes harder when the person who you love is the one at the defence table. 

    - All rise. - the bailiff waited for everyone but the judge to get up. Y/N got up but her legs were shaking, she felt at any point her nerves would get the best off her. - Department One of the Superior Court is now in session. Judge William presiding. Please be seated.

    - Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Calling the case of the People of the State of New York versus James Buchanan Barnes. Are both sides ready?

    - Ready for The People, your Honour.

    - Ready for the defence, your honour. - Bucky’s lawyer responded.

The clerk swore in the jury and she hoped it was a non biased jury yet by the looks they constantly seemed to send to Bucky, she wasn’t much too hopeful. Everything works on paper but when in real life, well, things don’t seem to go as planned. She looked at her wedding band, the small thin copper material next to his mother’s engagement ring which he had given her a few days ago. He did not deserve this. He did not deserve a wife who put him through this.

    - Your honour, ladies and gentlemen. - the prosecutor turned to the jury and Y/N’s heart started beating fast. - The defendant has been charged with the stalking and harassment of Miss Y/N Y/L/N. Our evidence shows Mr. Barnes was responsible for breaking into her apartment and writing hateful words on her mirror as well as sending a hateful letter to her childhood address in London. This man is an unstable person who has been accused with a string of murders and was formerly working under HYDRA. We believe Mr. Barnes made Miss Y/L/N feel unsafe so he could get intimately close to her. 

The prosecutor sat down and Y/N rolled her eyes. Bucky was a handsome man, the last thing he needed was to harass someone to get a woman. 

    - Your Honour, ladies and gentlemen of the jury: under the law my client is presumed innocent until proven guilty. During this trial, you will hear no real evidence against my client. You will come to know the truth that James Buchanan Barnes did not do any of the things he’s being accused of. During the break in at Miss Y/L/N’s flat, my client was at his home in Brooklyn and thus could have not committed the travel from Brooklyn to Soho and back and still be stuck in traffic that morning. Moreover, my client was the one who found the letter in Miss Y/L/N’s London residence and there are several phone registers of my client calling Mr. Steven Grant Rogers about Miss Y/L/N’s safety and wellbeing. Therefore my client is not guilty.

    - The prosecution may call its first witness. -  the judge beckoned.

    - The people call Miss Y/N Y/L/N. 

 The bailiff walked up to her. Her body felt heavy as he walked her to the witness stand. All eyes were on her, yet, few of them knew what she was about to do and say. Bucky gave her a reassuring smile, mumbling “love you” to her as the clerk had her swear to only say the truth and state her first and last name. 

   - Miss Y/L/N could you explain your relationship to us? - the prosecutor asked.

   - Your honour. - she turned to the jury. - I will be evoking spousal privilege.

   - Objection, your honour. The witness is not married to the accused. 

   - Objection, your honour. - Bucky’s lawyer got up. - Miss Y/L/N has been married to Mr. Barnes for two weeks as of today and as such has every single right to evoke spousal privilege and refuse to testify against her husband.

The court erupted into chatter, everyone was mumbling and whispering at the same time, people with raised eyebrows and some with open jaws as Y/N felt the smallest she had ever felt. Bucky’s lawyer got up to hand the judge her marriage license. The judge looked at her before looking at the license. 

   - The witness is excused. - he said. 

   - Objection, your honour. Miss Y/L/N is not under enough mental capacity to consent to marriage. 

    - It’s Mrs. Barnes. - Y/N smiled sarcastically at the prosecutor. 

    - It’s a valid marriage. The witness is excused. 

The bailiff helped Y/N off the witness stand and back to the bench, where Sharon gave her an encouraging smile. She could see Mr. Hawthorne looking at her but she chose not to look his way, instead keeping his eyes on the prosecution. So far, so good. 

    - The prosecution would like to call the jury’s attention to a video. - the bailiff rolled in a television which made Y/N furrow her brows. - This video demonstrates just how unstable Mr. Barnes is. 

Y/N looked at Steve, not understanding what was going on but Steve seemed to know. A video started playing in the television and Bucky seemingly stilled as the first words “Howard” echoed in the court room. She turned her head to the side as more sounds started to come, the moment she turned her head back, the video from Washington was back, then the Bucharest, everything. 

Bucky’s brain seemed to shut off as his worse nightmares played on the rather large screen for everyone to see, for her to see. He turned around to see Y/N, his wife, with her eyes closed, her head buried in Sharon’s shoulder who was holding her defensively. His breathe quickened and he tried to get up, he had to tell her, he had to explain it to her, he had to but his lawyer stopped him. The video came to a close and the prosecutor turned to Bucky.

   - Mr. Barnes, was that you in those videos?

   - Yes.

   - So you do confirm you were responsible for killing Howard and Maria Stark as well as attempting to kill Steve Rogers, Natalia Romanova and Samuel Wilson as well as being uncontrollable. 

    - Objection, your honour. Argumentative. 

    - Is it true, Mr. Barnes? - the prosecutor continued.

    - Objection, your honour. 

    - What would make you suitable enough to even be allowed to be free and not in prison for various crimes, some still unaccounted for?

   - Objection, your honour. Relevance.

   - Order! - the judge said and everyone came to silence. - We will be going on a break. Court dispersed. 

Everyone got up and all eyes were once again on Y/N with people coming up to her but she merely tried to go after Bucky who had stormed out the court room. She managed to break through most of the swarm of people surrounding her and almost reached the door until someone grabbed her arm and pulled her back. Mr. Hawthorne. 

   - What are you doing? We are trying to help you. - he said through gritted teeth, a tight hold on her arm. - We are here to help you.

   - Don’t touch me.

   - Excuse me?

   - I said, don’t touch me. I didn’t say you could touch me. 

   - You should take a look at your contract. - he shoved a stack of papers against her chest. - Let us help you or you will be doing invisible ensemble roles for the rest of your 10 year contract. 

 His grip softened on her arm and she completely moved her arm away from him, ignoring his threats as she stormed off the court room. She looked around the hall, to where Bucky could’ve possibly gone. It was mostly other court rooms and other areas where he wouldn’t have been allowed to be so he had to be in the hall but he wasn’t. She grabbed her phone to call him yet there was no signal. Once again, she was running, this time outside to get signal but that proved unnecessary as sat on a bench just behind a stone of plants was her Bucky. She climbed down the stairs as fast as her heels allowed her, making her way to the bench.

   - Bucky. - he had his face hidden by his hands, elbows dug into his thighs. She knelled up to him, throwing the contract on the bench to cup his face. - It’s okay, yeah? You’re fine, you’re safe. 

   - No, it’s not fine. - he rubbed his face and she could see his blood shot eyes, the tears pooled at his eyes. - You were not supposed to see that, Y/N. I was not, I was ... I didn’t want you to see that. 

   - It’s irrelevant to the case. You’re not being trialled on them.  

   - But it is there. I did that, did you not see it? Did you not heard it, Y/N?

   - No. I don’t care about that, why should I care about that? I care about you, I care if you’re okay, I care if you have nightmares. I don’t care what’s on those tapes, I don’t want to see them, I just want to see if you’re okay. I love you so much, Bucky. 

  - No.

  - Yes. - she moved to sit by his side. - What did you say? It’s just us. Forget it. 

  - I didn’t do it. 

  - I know. - she cupped his face, kissing him softly. - I know, Bucky. 

  - Y/N. - Sharon came up to them. - We have to go, it’s starting again. Are you okay, Buck? Do you want me to ruin that tape?

  - It’s fine, Sharon. - he got up. - Let’s go back to the circus. 

She stood there through doctors saying she was either insane, sensible or suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. She wanted to yell out for them to consider the fact he was innocent. If she was so unstable, how come she had been able to work all this time? If she was insane, how come she had been going to events and working? She sighed, leaning against her seat as the judge spoke once more

  - The trial will resume tomorrow. Thank you ladies and gentlemen. Court dispersed.

Bucky left the table to walk up to his wife, holding her close, afraid at any point she would realise who he was, afraid the video would register of her. Y/N kissed his cheek, cuddling against his side as the two of them walked out of the court room. The two of them were ready to go back home, forget this day ever happened and just sit on the couch and watch some cheesy movie on the TV while cuddling. As the two of them prepared to walk away, Mr. Powell’s assistance made her way towards them, eyes looking side to side and shoulders risen almost up to her ears. Bucky’s hold tightened around Y/N, almost pushing her behind his back. 

  - Hi Eliza, how are you? - Y/N asked sweetly, hand on Bucky’s bicep to calm him down.

  - I’m ... good. I was ... I was wondering if I could speak with you Mr. Barnes? It’s important.

  - Uhm ... okay.

  - Just us. - she said and Bucky gave her a weird look, moving his gaze to Y/N who just shrugged. - It’s really important. 

  - Sure. I’ll be back okay. - Bucky pecked Y/N’s lips quickly, before going up with Eliza leaving Y/N with Sharon and Chuck with Steve and Sam having left to go grab some food. 

  - I’ll be going, Y/N. - Chuck said. - Got my girl waiting at home for me but you call me if you need anything, okay? 

  - Yeah. - Y/N moved to hug Chuck. - Thank you for being here.

  - See you tomorrow.

  - See you. - she waved at him, now being just her and Sharon.

  - Before I forget, you left that outside. - Sharon handed Y/N the papers she had left in the bench. - What’s that anyway? Looks like the bible.

  - It’s just my contract. Mr. Hawthorne gave it to me. 

She quickly opened it out, mostly mindlessly going through the pages until she hit the last one where her signature and Mr. Hawthorne’s signature were. It was merely black ink on paper yet her brain seemed to focus on Mr. Hawthorne’s name, on the letters quickly scribbled on paper. It was just ink yet as she looked at it again, the mirror in her flat flashed in her mind. She knew those letters, she remembered those letters. The more she looked at the signature, the clearer the memory of the mirror she had tried to repress became. It was almost as if she was back at her flat looking at her mirror, at those letters. The same handwriting of his signature.

He did it. 

taglist: @disasterbi​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysteveloki-me​​ @americasass81​​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​​ @lostinthebeans​​ @mariahthelioness29​​ @oh-nohoney​​ @peaches-roses-sins​​ @theadorasabditory​​ @sipsteacasually​​ @saiyanprincessswanie​​ @booktease21​​ @noiralei​​ @learisa​​ @everythingisoverratedbutgreat​​ @uglipotata72829​​ @naturalthrone22​​ @husherstan​​ @mandiiblanche​​ @vicmc624​​ @newyorkgoddess​​ @itsallyscorner​​ @chipilerendi​​ @emzd34 @writerwrites​​ @bluevxnus​​ @that-girl-named-alex​​ @captnrogers​​ @nsfwsebbie​​ @sarge-barnes-sir​​ @niki-is-a-thing​​ @cynic-spirit​​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​​

[necros-writing-stuff]

You were supposed to just be arm candy for the night. Quinn had strong-armed Bailey into bringing a date for the gala she was hosting. He'd staunchly refused, until she reminded him of last year's party. Maybe it was something in the air, but everyone wanted to either dance with Bailey, or sneak off with him. More importantly, everyone was constantly watching him. It was unnerving, given his history. That's where you came in.

While considering his options, he was forced to face the facts. Eden and his spouse were his only friends. Fuck Quinn, she didn't count. Couldn't trust her as far as he could throw her. Which wasn't far. Her fat tits weighed her down. He didn't trust anybody else to be that close to him the whole night, but Eden would never play along, and he'd kill Bailey before he could finish asking for his spouse to go, which was fair. Bailey had been close to both of them growing up and may or may not have nursed a crush. On both of them. At the same time. Regardless, everyone that attended these parties was some kind of scum. They were, however, very good for networking and making contacts. It's how he found Remy in the first place, after all.

Thus Bailey was left with slim pickings. He could hire one of Briar's skanks, but he couldn't trust they weren't a plant. One that would pass information back to his competition. So that was put. He could rent one of Remy's goons for the evening, but they were ill mannered and ill tempered. They'd no doubt cause a scene. He could bring one of his orphans, but again, they'd cause a scene. Not only that, it'd make him look like a massive pervert. No, bringing an orphan is something the previous caretaker would have done. He sees enough of that monster in himself daily; he didn't need any more. His last option, was to borrow Eden's kid. You were the most beautiful, well behaved little shit he'd ever encountered. Smart and resourceful, you didn't have a lot of love for anyone in town.

Getting his friends o agree was the hardest part. Eden hated the idea of his child going into that town, much less being surrounded by the people who made it awful. His spouse, well, they were skeptical he'd keep you safe. He had a lot of enemies and all of them knew it. What if someone went after their baby because you were with him? New survival equipment and cookware helped convince them. Mostly since it was basically him saying Eden could kill him with a shiny, new hatchet. Or his spouse could beat him to death with their new cast iron skillet.

You were excited to go to a party. Your uncle Bailey brought you to the store and let you pick out all kinds of clothes, just not a gown for the gala. He didn't care about your shape or size. You were wearing a long, open back dress with a slit up to your hips. It was made of black satin and had lace delicately sewn as the collar and cold shoulder sleves. It hugged your assets, the skirt flowing with each move you made. He also got you shiny silver and daimond jewelry, and black, heeled shoes with red bottoms. He even took you to get a mani-pedi. You felt so fancy!

When it was time to attend, you did your hair and make up. It was simple, and a little understated. You wanted to focal point to be on the stuff your uncle got you. He seemed happy enough that you were we wearing the outfit just as he told you to. You were thrilled to please him, after all, he was taking you out of the woods and letting you see the town! You got to meet new people! Besides, it was fun letting him dress you up. You honestly felt a little bad, like you were taking advantage of him. You weren't a child anymore, and he didn't need to spoil you like one.

On the drive to the hotel, you nervously picked at the lace on your dress. Bailey had to take a hand off the wheel and grip both of your hands in his to make you stop. It surprised you at first. Had he ever touched you before? It was usually the other way around, when you'd hug him goodbye. His hands were larger than your's. Calloused and scared, not as bad as your father's. His nails were short and well taken care of, like the rest of him. He chastised you. Your dress was expensive. You apologized profusely.

When you got to the event, all eyes were on you. Your arms wrapped around Bailey's as you let him lead you around. You didn't recognize any of the people other than Quinn. You were happy to talk with her when Bailey stopped to chat. She kept giving Bailey this funny look, like she was trying not to laugh, and wiggling her eye brows at him. If it meant anything, Bailey didn't comment on it, or explain it to you. With Quinn, was a handsome man dressed in horse riding clothes. He looked really out of place. Most people were wearing suits or gowns. Bailey didn't let you speak to him, instead sending you to savage the buffet. He didn't need to tell you twice.

While filling your plate with a variety of hordervs, you felt someone staring at you. An instinct honed while living in the woods. Looking around, you saw a darkly dressed boy watching you. He was really small, you wouldn't have guessed he was your age. His hair was kind of greasy, brushed straight down his face; covering most of it. It made his piercing green eyes stand out all the more. His face turned red and he shuffled uncomfortably when your eyes met. You offered a friendly wave and a warm smile.

Then your attention was back on the food. So many fancy bites to try. You didn't know they made quiches that small! A soft tugging on your sleeve had you turning to see the boy again, now standing in front of you.

"M- My name is Kylar." He said, not making eye contact. He was small, and his body language screamed submissiveness. It made you feel a little more at ease. You could probably kill him with your bare hands if he tried anything. You introduced yourself and offered him a baby quiche off your plate. You weren't a huge fan of meatless quiches anyway.

Kylar held the small baked good in his hands as though you had just given him your heart. You were pretty thankful when Bailey called you back over. As you walked away, you heard someone laughing. A blond boy with hair covering one eye was laughing at Kylar. Did they know eachother? Were they friends? Why was he laughing at his friend? Next to the blond, was another blond boy. The one with long hair, wearing monk's robes, scolded the boy with piercings. They looked like brothers.

When you finally made it back to Bailey, he put his arm around your waist and handed you a glass of champagne. It was bubbly and tickled your throat when you drank it. You drank a few flutes of champagne and felt really funny after the fifth one. Enough so that it was hard to walk without clinging to Bailey. Maybe it was because your face was pressed into his chest, but he smelled really good. You think that's when he decided to leave with you, but it's all hazy after that. Bailey, as it would turn out, was equally hammered. He had enough of his wits about him to rent a room for the both of you, and not drive. But not enough to keep himself from ogling you in the outfit he bought you.

He practically carried you to the room. Which was fine by you. You had a pleasant, warm feeling spreading throughout your body when you pressed against him. After unlocking the door, the pair of you stumbled into the room. It was nice and all, but Bailey had other things on his mind. One other thing, actually. You were so drunk you let him strip you of your jewelry, shoes and stockings. You didn't complain when he removed a but his boxers, not did you mention the damp tent he had going on.

You admired his physic, his scars and his tattoos. It wasn't until he was undressing you, that something in your brain clicked and told you this was wrong. You weakly tried to push Bailey away, your intoxication making hard to move or speak. You whined softly.

"What are you doing?" He ignored you entirely, tearing the gown to rip it from your gorgeous body. You squirmed under him, trying to move away, but he held you firmly in place. His hands felt really good on your hips once they were bare to him, fire igniting every where he touched.

Bailey was achingly hard. Quinn must have put something in his drink. There was no way he wanted to fuck Eden's smoking hot kid as badly as he did. It wasn't like he'd jacked off to the thought of deflowering you before. To sending you home, his seed running down your pretty thighs. Even as you weakly struggled and protested under him, he took off your bra with expert skill. When you tried to cover yourself, he gathered your hands and pinned them above your head.

"Uncle Bailey, stop." You whimpered, your begging only turning him on more. He used he free hand to force your legs apart, so he could settle between them. He thought, for a fleeting moment, about preparing you. No. He wanted to hear you screaming his name. He wanted everyone to hear it. Your undergarments were quickly pulled from your body, leaving your virginal sex exposed to him. Drunk as he was, Bailey was salivating at the sight of you; naked, tears pricking at your eyes, struggling and making the cutest sounds. He was going to fuck you till your pussy molded to the shape of his cock. His underwear went next, tossed carelessly across the room. Again, you tried to wriggle away from him.

"Uncle Bailey, please. I don't want this. I- I've never-" His lips crashed into your's before you could finish speaking. His tongue invaded your mouth, your teeth clacking together in his desperation. More focused on getting your mouth free, you were only distantly aware of Bailey lining the crying head of his cock up with your wet hole. It came to the forefront of your thoughts when he pushed against it. He was huge, bigger than you thought he would be. Not that you thought about it before. He was your uncle, why would you? You gasped as he groaned. Then, in one forceful thrust, he burried himself to the hilt in your tight, no longer virgin pussy.

"Fuck, I felt that. Were you waiting for uncle Bailey to pop your cherry, sweatheat?" He gave you no time to adjust, setting a desperate, needy pace from the get-go. You were crying fully now. The stretch of him hurt! It hurt and he was hurting you more by moving!

"Hu-u-urts!" You sobbed, encouraging Bailey to force your knees to your chest.

"Only for a little bit. It'll feel real good in a minute, treasure." Bailey nipped your lip before moving to take your nipple into his mouth. His lips sucked at the sensitive nub while his talented tongue flicked against the tip. He groaned against your soft skin when your pussy clamped down on his cock. His movement faltered for a beat or two before regaining his rhythm. He continued groping and teasing your chest until your sobbing became choked, unbidden moans. You bit your lip, trying to keep yourself quiet He felt your walls relax around him, making moving easier.

"Didn't I tell you, kitten? Fuck, you love this, don't you? Love having uncle Bailey's fat fucking cock wrecking your little pussy." You hated it. You hated him. He was right and it made the shame that much harder to bear. It didn't hurt anymore. The burning sensation from his cock felt good. It felt so good you wanted more. You felt so full, almost complete. Try as you might, he had you singing for him.

Bailey let go of your hands to force your knees to your chest, folding you in half and giving him easy access to a spot inside you that you'd never reached. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth and your eyes rolled back into your head as he abused the sweet spot inside you. A tight, clenched sort of feeling began winding inside you. You found it hard to breathe suddenly, his name on your lips like a prayer.

"Fuck, yes, that's right. Fuck, you fucking love my cock." Bailey's pace increased, barely pulling out anymore before plunging back in; working the base of his cock and letting his heavy balls slap against your ass. He was ready to cum, but he refused to finish before you. A little denial never hurt him. He enjoyed it every now and then when he was getting himself off. Oh, but your tight little heat, absolutely dripping for him felt so much better than his hand. Far better than he imagined.

"Gonna fuck you all night. Gonna wake up and fuck you again in the morning." You arched your back orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. You cried out, incoherent as he continued to abuse your cunt; using your orgasm and the rythmic clenching of your pussy to get off.

"God! Fucking, yes! Gonna send you home with my cum gushing from your tight little pussy. Keep you coming back for- fuck!" Bailey's rhythm lost it's beat. He frantically fucked himself into you, desperate for his high.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Bailey, honest to god, moaned your name as he came. Pressed to the hilt inside you, he worked himself through his orgasm, prolonging it by grinding himself into you. The feeling of his pubic hair harshly rubbing against your clit pushed your over sensitive body to another high.

He didn't give either of you a chance to rest or recover. Flipping you over, he stared rolling his hips into you again. You whimpered and begged for a break, only for him to slap your ass, leaving an angry, red hand print, and laugh at you.

"Your body belongs to me now, and you're not going anywhere till I'm done with you, kitten." You whimpered as he pushed you down into the mattress, fucking his cum out of you as he prepared to fuck more into you.

Bailey never had much of a sex drive. He didn't know if it was from the abuse he suffered growing up, or if it was natural. Frankly, he didn't want to know. What he did know, was that it left him the a hell of a lot of stamina. You were in for a long night, and when you got home, you'd have to explain to your parents where your bruises came from, why you were walking like that, and why you needed to start visiting Bailey on the weekends.

In a couple of months, you'd have to explain to them why you have a bun in the oven.

(- anon 🚩 bad uncle Bailey takin it from noncon to dubcon gets me hrrrnnngggg.)

Bailey having a crush on both Eden and Pre-PC at the same time makes me think about them double teaming him after a night out drinking.

But also bad uncle Bailey breeding his sweet little niece, keeping her nice and dripping with cum at every chance is such a lovely image. Looking his best friend in the eye and telling him they had a wonderful time, he even took her somewhere to eat out!

Current-PC trying not to blush at the horrible puns Bailey makes about the various ways he's fucked her so Eden doesn't figure out what happened.

[kneamet]

Inspired by Wandavision. Reader is trapped in a perfect world of sitcom. However, she notices that her husband Loki is in control of everyone. I also ask for a scene that Loki goes to SWORD agents and threatens them like Wanda.

Trigger Warning: obsession, yandere, forced, kidnapping

Word Count: 2768

Character: Loki/reader

Summary: you knew that your husband was a magician, but you never thought that he would decide to create a perfect false world

POV Your

It was strange. Very strange. The world has seemed unreal to you lately. Everything was so unrealistic that I wanted to gouge out my eyes.

You looked down at your hands, feeling extremely worried. This acrid feeling burned and ate away at you from the inside out, making you feel anxious. It was very scary and unusual.

"Darling, what are you doing? Thinking about genesis?" the mocking velvety baritone whose owner was currently smiling softly at you from behind asked you. A light laugh followed his sentence. Laughter, like a crowd laughing at a joke.

You shook your head. It seemed particularly heavy now. Reflection and thoughts struck your bright, unfilled dark thoughts, head.

"Loki, what is that laugh?" you asked, turning your head to look at him. Loki only raised an eyebrow at your remark and smiled at you again, shaking his head and walking down the stairs towards you.

"I don't know what you're talking about, my sweet queen? What are you getting at?" coming up to you and touching your hair with the big hand that did the magic and gently running it through it. You blinked, leaning away from her husband's touch.

You loved his touch. So soft, so tender, so in need of the necessary love, which... What is it? Why can't you remember?

"Loki, honey, can I ask you something?" you could feel his nod as you stared at the dark screen on the off-screen TV. "What happened before we came to Westview? I can't remember, " you said in confusion, turning completely into Loki, who was looking at you with a serious look, frowning.

There was a lonely silence between you and your husband. On the top floor, the children could be heard frolicking and playing among themselves. The tension that weighed down the souls of those in the main room was overwhelming.

"Is this how pregnancy affected you? You know, I'm not an expert, but after this stage in life, girls are very suspicious of their husbands, " Loki smiled charmingly again, sitting down next to you on the blue sofa that sagged under his weight, and hugging you around the neck, kissing you on the cheek. It was a ridiculous kiss, more like a reassuring kiss.

The laughter came again. It was an unusual laugh when you see someone in front of you and they laugh. No, it was a laugh on the echoes of consciousness, which in an endless rhythm only intensified when a "funny" joke was heard. It was suspiciously strange. You felt your hands start to sweat a little.

With your lips pressed tightly together and your teeth biting the inside of your cheek, you stood up, emerging from Loki's pleasant captivity. His hands, which you so loved to touch, had to be left behind, freeing yourself from a pleasant manual captivity.

You loved Loki. He was a very interesting man... No, not a man, but a God, to put it mildly. Your beloved God, who was head over heels in love with you. He was very sarcastic and handsome: that black hair of his, which was now cut short in a perfect style; green eyes, so attentive that nothing escapes them. What can I say here, he's a God.

Grabbing your coat from the hanger and going straight up the stairs and heading straight for the door, wanting to get out and get some fresh air, as well as refresh your obsessive thoughts by going deeper into the thoughts that haunted you even at night.

"Honey, are you going somewhere?" getting up from the sofa, your husband asked obsessively, smiling at you and in an instant, teleporting, being near you, putting his hand on your shoulder.

You mastered your shoulder from his hand, shaking it slightly and not even paying attention to it, opened the door, saying:

"Get some fresh air. Keep an eye on the boys," you muttered as you closed the door behind you, not even bothering to look at your husband, who was standing there with a tense face, looking at you. It's a good thing you didn't notice.

You wanted to get out of this city. Find out what's next. Maybe we can find out from people if they know anything about you, or maybe it's just that you have a terrible memory.

But no, it can't be so terrible that you don't remember anything from the day you and Loki came to this city that seemed like an ideal city. Still, there was something wrong. Something was bothering you.

Deciding not to slow down and just walk towards the end of the city, you began to look around. You didn't walk very far, maybe fifty meters from your house, and everything was fine.

"Hi, Rob!" you shouted to your fool from work, to which he only smiled painfully at you, and your feeling only grew stronger when you saw a tear trickle down his cheek.

We need to get out of this city faster and find out from the people who live nearby if they know what's going on here in Westview.

You didn't remember when this craze to find out what was going on in this town started. Maybe when you haven't seen the kids on the playground for a couple of days in a row? Or when your friend Geraldine left so suddenly that you didn't notice? Or when the children began to grow very quickly? Or maybe when I saw the tears of the residents, when they portrayed happiness?

It was difficult. You couldn't put the details together, and your mind refused to remember your past, which you couldn't just forget. There must have been something, right? Your memories couldn't have started with you coming here with your husband, could they?

You shook your head, looking up and noticing that the main city was gone, leaving only small houses and a road that led off into the distance. Just where the STOP sign is placed. Is travel prohibited for everyone, or just for you and the people of this city?

Suddenly you stopped, clutching your head. No, no, no, what if you're imagining it? What if this is all just a game of your excited mind? Maybe you just made it all up and the people at Westview are really happy?

Squinting at the small house, your eyes only widened in fear, which was reflected in your trembling hands and your herd of goosebumps that ran down your back. The woman stood motionless, as did the man, apparently he was her husband, and she was his wife. They just stared at one point, apparently not even breathing. It was scary to see and you didn't dare approach them.

Looking around and not noticing anyone behind you, only frozen people, you stepped a little further, overcoming the road, noticing a strange, whatever it was, but it looks like a wall or some kind of dome that was blue mixed with green, similar to the colors of magic... Loki?

You knew about Loki's abilities. That he's quite a powerful mage, but could he create this dome? Was he so powerful that you didn't even know it? Your hands trembled, and so did your lower nooba. Your eyes stared at that dome-wall in amazement and tortured fear.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open as you finally put together the details that had previously been a dead weight in your head.

When you touched it with your hand, you felt yourself being pulled in. It became uncomfortable. Now the question of real life was being decided, where you would learn everything about yourself and live in a world where there were no lies, or whether it would be better to stay in a world full of lies, but with your husband. Your hand has wavered in the direction of the false world. What if Loki gets angry? Did you know how evil he can be?

But no, as you said earlier, retreating now was too easy and incomprehensibly simple. To give up is to admit defeat, to remain in a world where you will always be written as a lie.

But Loki...

Shaking your head again, and finally stepping into that dome wall that seemed to shield you from the real world, you felt a pull with your foot and your whole body. So you didn't have to do anything. In any case, you will simply be thrown out of this world, soaked in lies.

As you tried to make your way through this wall with small steps, you felt how thick it was in its width and so high, although it did not bother you. Right now, all that filled my heart was a sense of freedom.

You felt like your mind was being released and memories were coming back to you from before you and Loki moved to New Jersey.

Suddenly, you felt something hit you in the back and you seemed to fly out of this wall right on the green grass with your stomach down. You groaned a little, sitting up and looking around.

There were people standing right next to you, surrounding you and looking at you in disbelief. Behind them were tents and huge body cars that flashed their headlights. Strange faces were looking at you, very worried. Your eyes went over the people very quickly before you said:

"Darcy?" you whispered, squinting against the light. She was the only person who supported you back then. Then? When?

"Y/N?"

"Help me, please save me!" you asked them, seeing how some of them began to approach you with a reliable expression on their faces, apparently wanting to help.

"I don't think you need any help, my dear queen," said a familiar soft and sweet baritone voice behind you, the sound of which your ears enjoyed. Your eyes widened and you felt fear. Inappropriate fear. Your legs are shaking. Your heart began to beat in a loud rhythm in your mind, drowning out everything except Loki's words, which were currently echoing in your head.

***

POV Loki

He did not think that his dear, dear queen would betray him. Didn't you realize that Loki did everything especially for you, wanting to dedicate every part of himself to you? Did he know that this world wasn't safe, and why did he have to create a fictional one based on your favorite TV shows, which he liked to watch with you, wrapped in a blanket on the comfortable sofa in your apartment, which he often visited earlier?

Loki loved you too much. He never wanted to hurt you, only to help you and make you feel needed and in love with someone.

He always thought you needed someone to take care of you. Yes, and take care so that you will feel like a queen. To protect, care for, and trust you, and the most important thing is to show love for you. What he missed so much.

Loki didn't like remembering the past. It was just a dark line that he crossed out when his mother died, whom he loved so much that he did not even notice the bright manipulations on her part. No, for him, she was a savior who protected him from his father's wrath.

Blinking and shifting his bleary gaze to you, his beloved queen, Loki tightened his grip on the missile that had been set upon him and his children. His favorite perfect twin boys that his beloved wife gave birth to.

They were so wonderful. Children are the flowers of life, isn't that what the Midgardians say? It seems to be. The ideal family, such as only happens in the movies, was embodied by Loki in the form of him, his beloved wife and two children.

Throwing a rocket in the direction of S.W.O.R.D., Loki lowered his head, feeling the magic that was green in color form in his hands and that was ready to kill everyone and get out of his personal life.

The contempt for people oozing out of his mouth was as ugly as it could possibly be. His gaze darted in your direction and softened slightly. The sight of you always calmed his raging mind and brought him to his senses. He took a step toward you, grabbing you in a sloppy hug, as if to show his protection.

It was nice for him to look at you. Your soft hair, in which he liked to bury his nose; your beautiful eyes, in which you could drown if you looked at them only once, and in which he was often lost. He saw you pursing your lips, frowning. Were you afraid?

Loki turned his gaze back to the agents, focusing his magic in his left hand. Magic that can cause pain.

"The rocket was a precaution. You can't blame us, Loki, " a loud male voice shouted. He didn't know him. But most likely it was the director. Loki's brow furrowed as he tightened his grip on you, doing nothing but protect you. He won't let the agents take you away. For too long, he had been alone, wandering the worlds.

"I don't think so. This is my last warning," as if a growl had escaped Loki's lips and the magic had only intensified, instilling the fear he so fiercely enjoyed. "Stay out of my house," the house he was so happy to have. A home where everyone loves him and waits for him. A house where he is respected. The house he missed. "You won't touch me, and I won't touch you," he warned, eager to get out of here and talk to his wife. They would have to have a long conversation.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple. You're holding the whole city hostage, " the unknown man shouted at Loki, to which Loki only curled his lip. Contemptuously. Didn't they understand that he just wanted to be happy? That he just wants to be alone with his beloved and his children?

"I'm not the one with the weapon," Loki warned him, feeling the arm he held around you tighten slightly, and the magic only increased its power. She seemed ready to destroy everything he could see. But right now, he had you, his beloved queen, at his side, who calmed him down with just an unobtrusive presence.

"But you're in control!" a commanding voice was heard. This time it was a woman. Out of the corner of his eye, Loki watched the expression on his beloved queen's face.

"Geraldine?" ah, what a gentle and quiet voice.

"Are you still here?" the man arched an eyebrow significantly, kissing you in the hair and looking with a withering look at the ex-girlfriend of his wife, who insinuated herself into the trust and into the affairs of his family.

"Loki... I didn't know the drones were armed. But you know that, don't you?" slowly approaching him and you, the woman said in a soothing voice, like a doctor talking to his sick patient. Loki always knew there was something wrong with her. She was too suspicious. "The city is full of civilians, but you, God, have brought an S.W.O.R.D. agent into your home," Loki frowned. The blood surged in his veins. He knew that at some point, he just wouldn't hold back. "I helped your wife give birth to your children," she looked at you, and you reflected her gaze with a look of hope. Do you want to leave him? "And on some level, you realize that I'm your ally. I want to help you, " she said in a trusting tone, and Loki slightly reduced the pressure of his magic that oozed from his thin fingers.

"How? What can you offer me?" he knew what she would say. There was no answer to that question. It was all reduced to one thing. The family Loki needed.

"What do you want?" the woman asked, standing in the background with the man who had spoken to him earlier, as if taking a manipulative pose.

"I already have everything. And no one will ever take that away again," Loki muttered, releasing a large stream of energy from his hands, forcing himself to control the minds of his subordinates and aim the scope at the director of S.W.O.R.D.

Turning around, Loki grabbed your hand, squeezing it in a painful grip and helping you turn around. He saw how you tried to resist and remove his intrusive hands and touch, to which the man himself only tightened his grip on you, pushing you into a false world.

[mysticalsashaxoxo]

TALES THROUGH TIME, CHAPTER 1: MORNING AFTER

SUMMARY: Why was Gangtae miffed the morning after?

Sunlight drifted softly through the windows brushing the lids of his eye, waking him from his slumber. Noticing the weight and warmth on his shoulder he looked down, he could smell her scent before even catching sight of her.

On the crook of his neck lies the woman who wrecked his life. Blowing the barriers he built like a bomb she claimed to be.

Before her he didn’t know that the protective walls around him was the very thing that weighs him down, and with the burden finally lifted — he felt free.

He didn’t know one could feel this light.

Her tightened hold pulled his drifting thoughts back. He felt her lightly stir but instead of waking up she just nuzzled closer to him. Feeling the softness of her naked skin under the sheets made him remember the things that occurred last night.

The slow kisses, the light touches — the soft whimpers and the rough scratches. He remembers it all. How could he forget when for him it was more than just sharing the bed. Last night seems to be the culmination of every moment they had, both the good and the bad.

The day before he wasn’t even sure if he could win her back, not when she was so adamant to make an end of what he once called ill-fate. Something he deeply regretted.

What he feels for her was something he never felt for anyone before. Smiling to himself he pulled her closer. Letting her fingertips thread through her hair.

Now that he got her where he wanted her to be, he’ll see to it that he’ll love her doubts away.

He let himself sleep until the rays became too strong to ignore. Besides, he could already feel his stomach rumble. He’s hungry — which wasn’t at all surprising given the activities they did.

They had a long night, and if he was hungry, he’s pretty sure she is too.

Thinking of getting up to prepare a meal that could replenish them before she wakes, he tried to slowly pull his arm out from under her head but he felt resistance. When he tried again he felt her nails dug on his waist. That’s when he realized that her companion was awake. When he looked down to see she had the audacity to pretend she wasn’t, opting to bury herself on his chest to avoid his inquisitive gaze.

“You’re awake aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled at her childish antics before flipping them over. Enjoying the little gasp of surprise she let out when he hovered over her.

Now she couldn’t hide from him.

Oh she was beautiful, gleaming and glowing with a hint of red tinting her cheeks. It makes him want to keep her away from anything and everything and just have her here under him. The urge was too strong, without thinking he leaned down and gave her a long lingering kiss.

“Good morning.” He breathlessly whispered after breaking the kiss.

She just hummed and gave him a smile so sweet, he had to hold himself back lest they would spend the whole day in this room and he knows they couldn’t do that — his brother would be back.

But he also couldn’t pull away so with a groan he just let himself fall down and rest on top of her. Enjoying the feel of her supple skin against his, letting his nose glide on the column of her neck.

Just for a little more while he wanted to prolong this moment.

Feeling her fingers thread from his nape to his hair he sighed.

“How are you feeling?” He mumbled on her neck, he couldn’t help but ask when he saw the peeking marks on her chest.

“I’m feeling good.” She instantly replied, voice still laced with sleep.

They never really talked about it but somehow he knew that she knew that he was no expert in this area.

Though he never run out of woman throwing themselves at him, all the years he spent caring for his brother made it almost impossible for him to indulge to his worldly needs.

There might have been someone whom he shared a kiss or more but he never once gave his all. Too afraid of any repercussions that might occur had something gone accidentally wrong, he tried his best to resist any temptation thrown at him until it became second nature to him.

Until her.

The thought made him hold on her even tighter, burying himself in their embrace.

As if she felt his unspoken inhibition she slowly moved her hands to cup his face, thumbs running circle through his cheeks.

His eyes were glazed with uncertainty, if she wasn’t feeling merciful she would have rolled her eyes at him.

Was he seriously doubting himself when she never felt so spent before? He was being utterly ridiculous.

He might have grown into a man but he is still a boy who wants to be loved.

How can she put his mind at ease? This was something new to her since she never felt the need to consider someone else before, but with him she always wanted to. She always tried to.

Thinking of something to say she smiled, her eyes were shining so bright it almost blinded him.

“Gangtae?”

“Hmmm?”

“You are the best ride I ever had.”

That would put him at ease. She thought as she relaxed, loving the feel of his hard tone chest against hers.

But then she felt him go rigid, he then pulled away briefly meeting her eyes before looking away — expression sour, if not dark.

Wait, did she say something wrong? Wasn’t he supposed to be happy with what she said?

Silence filled the air until he spoke.

“How many were there?” He then uncomfortably asked, still not meeting her gaze.

She looked at him with blinking eyes until realization dawned at her.

This behavior of his always baffled her.  He could hold himself back with almost anything — but not this, never this.

His jealousy.

It was something he couldn’t hide no matter how much he tried.

Seeing him like this always amuses her, at times she would even intentionally rile him up just to see his flare of emotions — just like what she did the last time they went to the coffee shop.

Something about him reacting like this makes her feel good, was it wrong for her to feel that way she wondered.

"Sorry, forget that I asked." He sullenly replied as he sat up by the edge of the bed, planting his feet on the floor, obviously brooding.

She shook her head at his absurdity. How was he feeling insecure when nothing and no one from her past could compare to what he just gave her?

He was the very thing she asked the moon.

His broad back marred with red marks that was probably a result of all her scratching last night was a sinful sight. He always look scrumptious from behind. She couldn't help but follow him suit. Pulling the blanket around her, she hugged him from behind.

"You're jealous aren't you?" She asked from which he just sighed. "Just be good to me? Hmm?" she added, using the words he did last night.

He knew he was being ridiculous right now, so he heaved a deep breath before looking back and pulling her to his lap. Silently cradling her close to calm his raging heart.

"Gangtae, Are you seriously worrying about that?" She asked, not even hiding her mirth much to his annoyance. "Shouldn't I be worried about you? You're too good for someone who claims to be —“

"Can you not—“

"But it's true—“

"Yah—“

"Tell me how many were there?"

"Munyeong—“

"Where do they live—“

"Stop—“

"I'll tell you my body count if you tell me yours—“

He had to kiss her to shut her up, He would never know how this woman came to know how to push all his buttons to rile him up. Lingering a bit he sighed and looked down, glaring at the obviously amused vixen in his arms.

"I think there were about 20—“

"Can you drop it already—“

"Or was it 30?"

"I said—“

"Wait, are you only asking for men? should I include the women?"

"Are you seriously—“

Seeing his flabbergasted expression she chuckled and took mercy on her sulking lover.

"They're nothing compared to you so stop sulking already." She said as she cradled his jaw with her palm. “Besides, last night is all I could remember.”

Hearing that he let out another sigh, There's nothing he could really do about the past, what he should focus on is what they have right now and what they will have in the future.

He will see to it that he'll do his best.

Until he's all she can remember.

"Wait. So you did compare huh?"

"Oh shut up and just kiss me."

END.

[gentlemancrow]

Ohh prompts! Maybe 21 and some shippy JonTim?

OK I know I agonized about this one but NO REALLY THANK YOU IT WAS GREAT <3! It was a GREAT exercise for writing in so many ways for me! Also I know the prompt "Maybe you should sit down" sort of implies getting bad news or something more than what popped into my brain, but this is what popped IMMEDIATELY into my brain so I went with it 83 Also again this is my first JonTim so be gentle with me uwu! Honestly it's my first time writing Tim in general for longer than one sentence so there's that too jfhlsajf XT Anyway enjoy!

Jon would have infinitely preferred to think of his bungled little excursion as a calculated risk that the whims of capricious probability had simply decided he had lost on that particular doomed occasion. What it truly was, however, was an infinitely predictable culmination of skipping his physio stretches for three mornings in a row, deciding a quick jaunt into the stacks to hunt for a statement to cross reference with the one he had been working on all morning did not, in fact, require the aid of his cane, and several cups of black tea on an empty stomach with their resultant caffeine jitters that had left him splayed and wobbling like a newborn fawn with one hand anchoring him in a vice grip to the handle of a file drawer. His bad leg ached in that special way it did that he knew all too well could be catastrophic if he moved it even slightly wrong, and set him back significantly on his physio progress. That oft repeated foible would also attract the ire and derision of literally every single person who knew him, never mind the physical therapists at the clinic, and he was very much not prepared to deal with that on top of everything else.

Lucky for him he wasn’t even supposed to be back at the institute in the first place, so no one would be looking for him, and he was reasonably assured that he would have plenty of time to figure out how to escape unscathed, or at least enough to hide a suspicious limp for a day or two. Unlucky for him, probability it seemed, also liked to double down.

“Alright there, boss man?”

Tim’s jovial voice echoed through the file cabinets like the worst song on the juke at the pub out of all of the hundreds of better selections just as Jon was preparing to gingerly move his spasmodic leg. He sighed and closed his eyes bitterly.

“Oh, yes, just fine, just dangling precariously from this file cabinet to try out a new stretch, it’s called the ‘mind your own business’,” he growled.

Tim chuckled, the echoes of it raising pinprick hackles of irritation on the back of Jon’s neck as he emerged from the shadows, hands on his hips and wry, crooked grin on his scarred face.

“Maybe you should sit down.”

“And pray tell where, Timothy?” Jon snapped in a low growl.

Tim made a low whistle.

“Yikes! Busting out the -othy today? You must be in a bad way.”

“You think so? Whatever gave you that brilliant idea?” Jon drawled, rolling his eyes, “Are you going to stand there gawking and making me feel even more like an invalid or are you going to deign to render me aid?”

“I think I can spare a moment, just for you,” came the predictably smug retort, “What exactly would you like me to do?”

“I just need to sit a moment and massage it out, so fetching a chair from somewhere ought to suffice.”

Tim pondered the request as he strolled to Jon’s side, chewing his lower lip pensively.

“Well, I could do that for you, but seeing as you’re not actually supposed to be here yet I am a little concerned that dragging a chair randomly down to the archives would attract… unwanted attention? You know Martin would have a conniption.”

Sighing heavily, Jon pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

“Good point.”

“How about my lap then?” Tim continued without missing a beat.

Jon choked on his own tongue as the tips of his ears burned like cinders.

“TIM! Is this really, truly, and honestly the appropriate moment to be… making a pass at me?”

Unfazed, Tim pressed a dramatic hand over his heart.

“Jon, I’m wounded! Ordinarily I’d be deeply offended you’d think my flirting skills so inelegant and crass, but I was actually being sincere this time.”

A dark brow slid skeptically, pointedly up Jon’s forehead.

“Beg pardon, but how could that possibly have ever, in any situation, been construed as sincere?”

“Well, we’ve determined a chair is too risky, the floor isn’t going to do you any favors, and I know you won’t let me carry you back to your office, so I won’t even bother to ask, so where does that leave us, hmmm? Plus, if you recall, I had much the same physio you did, I know the massages and the stretches, I can have you patched up and out of here in no time,” Tim elaborated, counting off on his fingers.

Jon hated it when anyone other than him was making the most sense in the conversation, and he gnashed his teeth and growled his begrudging acquiescence.

“…Fine.”

“Brilliant. Alright to touch?” Tim asked brightly, hands hovering a respectful few inches from Jon’s hand and shoulders.

Eyes narrowing to smoldering brown slits, the last embers of a dying fire, Jon made him wait a few moments for the wordless nod of approval.

“Okay, just taking your hand there, my other hand’s got your other arm, and easy does it…”

With surprising finesse and gentleness, Tim took Jon’s hand and eased him onto the ground with him and into his lap, taking great care to keep his seized-up leg straight and comfortable. Jon melded against his assistant, looping his arms loosely around Tim’s waist while he tipped his head against his shoulder and let his twisted-up bones and sinew go slack against the radiantly warm aegis of him. His shirt was screamingly loud and his hair was freshly pink and he always smelled crisp and free and wild, like a sea breeze on a sun-soaked twilight. Jon liked the way he smelled, and the self-assured posture of his broad shoulders and the heartening solidness of a body meant to be shirtless as often as possible holding him so secure in the humming powerlines of his care. Just to be touched was a visceral melody of nerve endings and synapses, to be touched by him was a blinding symphony of electric light and sound perfectly in tune to the aria of his core where so few dared to go.

“Not so awful right?” Tim teased, squeezing his affected knee with care.

“Get on with it, Stoker,” Jon murmured languidly into the crook of his neck.

“Ohoh, last name now. I’m on real thin ice, aren’t I?” he chortled in reply, pads of his fingers feeling out the ridge of a patella and skating down his calf.

Jon winced, opening one eye to glance guiltily up at the ever-chipper mien of Tim.

“I-“ he stuttered, his protest melting into a sigh, “No, you’re not. I’m sorry. You’re being helpful and I’m being an ass.”

“Mmm, that’s a smidge hyperbolic. You’re being snappish because you got caught being naughty, and you’re in pain, and you also got caught being in pain, which is probably the worst offense out of all of them.”

“I suppose…” Jon conceded, closing his eye and letting his body go slack again.

“Okay to roll your cuff up? Or would you prefer trouser leg down?”

“You can roll it up, I don’t mind.”

Tim promptly, neatly, folded the cuff of Jon’s trousers up only to just above the knee, baring the cratered mares of his leg. His fingers felt them out, felt the places where the worms bored holes in him that had forgotten which way to mend and pulled and tugged in a confused riot of fibrous muscle and scar tissue, and rolled through them with slow, deliberate tenderness. Jon hissed softly in pain, but Tim’s fingers knew the weft and trail of his muscles, and he squeezed and massaged and tilled them with expert care. Unhurriedly, painstakingly, Jon’s knee unlocked, and it bowed gratefully outward with the sigh of relief into a Hawaiian print collar.

“You’re allowed to hurt you know,” Tim whispered at length, fingers just stroking idly now.

“Everyone’s allowed to hurt,” Jon replied automatically, “It’s only that those of us who can bear it have the duty to do so for those who can’t.”

Tim chewed his lip in the wake of that, weighing his feelings against his words carefully.

“And what god decides who is who?”

Only silence from the clinging, boneless and wounded creature in his lap.

“I’m just saying. I was right there with you, the same thing happened to me, so maybe share a little of this one, hmm?” he tried again, nudging at Jon’s temple with the tip of his nose, letting the silvered chestnut hairs tickle.

The strings of Jon’s body wound taut again around Tim’s fingers still tracing blind patterns on his shin, and he glanced up, daring to ensnare his irises only for a moment.

“I’ll try.”

A soft, breathless laugh whisked past Tim’s lips as he shook his head fondly.

“I guess that’s the best I’m going to get out of the high and mighty head archivist,” he huffed, “But I’ll take it. Now, where can I kiss it all better for you?”

It took Jon a full cycle of pouting, scowling, and digging vengeful fingers into Tim’s back before he could conjure an answer.

“Forehead, please.”

“You got it.”

Jon ducked his head to receive Tim’s lips pressed against his creased brow, and while he knew he bore a burden too great to be carried away with velvet kisses and frank words, for a moment at least he could feel just a bit lighter.