#buzzfeed masterlist

[supernatural-bias]

───── ❝ my original ideas turned self indulgent ❞ ─────

reader insert tmnt au—twenty twelve series: link

(in progress: donatello & reader)

indiana jones—ghoul boys au: link

(in progress: shane madej and ryan bergara x reader)

★ > ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ < ★

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader take the “rizz quiz”

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this was requested and i actually hadn’t heard of this before, but i did some research (especially jd and carlacia’s video) and voila. slightly suggestive ending, but enjoy <3

“I’m y/n y/ln.” Y/n grinned.

“And I’m Drew Starkey, and we’re here with BuzzFeed to see how much ‘rizz’ we have.” Drew said, cringing slightly and looking over at y/n with a giggle.

“How much ‘rizz’ would you say you have, Starkey?” Y/n asked with a smirk, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked up at Drew.

“Oh jeez, I don’t know… medium? I have medium rizz? Is that how you say it? What do you think?” Drew chuckled nervously, peering down at y/n.

“I don’t know… I think you’re pretty charming.” Y/n giggled.

Stage 1: Rizz 101

“Give us your best pickup line.” Drew read, turning to y/n with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Ooh ok…” Y/n chewed her bottom lip in thought.

“It’s been a while.” Drew clarified to the camera, causing y/n to shoot him a playful glare.

“Oh, I’ve got one: do you have a map? Because I just got lost in your eyes.” Y/n batted her eyes at the camera. A smile spread across Drew’s face, his cheeks flushing a bright red.

“Ok, ok.” Drew chuckled, rubbing his hand along his jaw as he thought. “Oh I’ve got something to say… damn I must’ve forgotten it, the words left me…”

Y/n tried her best to hold back her laughs as Drew shook his head, in “frustration”.

“... I think it’s ‘cause you made me absolutely speechless.” Drew said, pulling the line home with a smirk. Y/n fanned herself off, letting out a low breath, causing Drew to laugh, hitting her gently with his hip.

“Drop a thirst comment under your crush’s post.” Y/n read.

“I just like to put the like… sweating emoji.” Drew said. “Sometimes the words just… don’t come when you see somebody looking like this.”

Drew grabbed y/n’s hand, taking a step back to show her off. With a bashful giggle, y/n spun around, dramatically striking a pose. Drew’s eyes scanned over her, biting his lip as he took in her beautiful features under the bright, studio lights. The curve of her hips, the smoothness of her skin, the glint of her eyes brought a smile to his face.

“Ok, rizz master, let’s get back to the game… what was the question?” Y/n said with a giggle.

“Thirst comment. You usually have some pretty good ones.” Drew teased.

“Ah yes… sometimes I go with just a simple ‘hot’ or like ‘oh my god’,” y/n explained. “Or sometimes I kinda like to write a paragraph really just explaining the… thought process.”

“Truly a professional and very talented thirst commenter.” Drew laughed, his hand resting on the small of y/n’s back.

Stage 2: Performance

“Charm this skeleton.” Y/n said, gesturing to the skeleton standing opposite them.

“Ladies first.” Drew grinned. Y/n approached the skeleton, running a hand down the skeleton’s arm with an embarrassed giggle.

“Hey… I just wanted to come over and say that you are absolutely glowing.” Y/n said bashfully, grabbing the skeleton’s hand. Drew moved to cover his mouth with his hand, a nervous grin on his lips.

“Like I just felt so drawn to you; your hair, your skin, your makeup, your eyes… I mean truly, you’re just stunning.” Y/n bit her lip, glancing over the skeleton.

“I was wondering if you wanted to maybe get a drink or something? Maybe we could… get to know each other a bit better.” Y/n batted her eyelashes before dropping its hand and turning to the camera with a laugh. Y/n walked back over to Drew, shaking her head in embarrassment. Drew removed the hand from his mouth, his jaw tense.

“Drew Starkey, are you jealous of a plastic skeleton?” Y/n teased, squeezing his bicep playfully. Drew shook his head with a bashful and guilty smile on his face.

“Hey, don’t judge until it’s your turn to watch.” Drew rolled his eyes, keeping his eyes on y/n as he sauntered backwards towards the skeleton. With an exaggerated stumble, he ran into the skeleton.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry—” Drew started, resting his hand on the skeleton’s spine as he straightened himself out, giving the skeleton the classic up-down. Y/n giggled, trying her best not to interrupt.

“Um, wow, I wasn’t expecting to bump into such a… stunning young skeleton tonight.” Drew chuckled, keeping himself locked into the scene.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess it’s just… fate we stumbled into each other… maybe we could see what the cards hold, hmm?” Drew smirked, doing his best to stifle a laugh, causing y/n to giggle and then the both of them to devolve into laughter.

“This is so stupid.” Drew said under his breath, his cheeks flushed as he returned to his spot next to y/n. Y/n didn’t say anything, just grinned up at him before proceeding to the next challenge.

“Now this is one I can totally get behind: what’s your go-to dance move?” Y/n raised her eyebrows, starting to move her shoulders a bit, Drew joining her as the two of them swayed side to side.

“We get any music?” Drew asked playfully before moving to rest his hands on y/n’s waist. The two of them shook their hips side to side, y/n dancing with her arms up as the two of them danced in silence. Drew took one of y/n’s hands, spinning her around, the two of them dancing hand in hand. Y/n took a step back, Drew continuing to shimmy his shoulders with a cheesy smile on his face.

“And you’ve of course gotta do the old fashioned…” y/n said, casting an imaginary fishing line at Drew. Drew “caught” it, jumping forward as y/n reeled him in until finally capturing her in a hug, the two of them laughing.

Stage 3: Unspoken Rizz

“Give us your best walk,” Y/n read with a quirk of her eyebrows. “Alright, take it away Mr Loewe.”

Drew shook his head, his cheeks blushing as he got into position. With a quick, deep breath, Drew started his best “model walk”, winking teasingly for the camera before walking back towards y/n. She could feel her stomach flutter as he found his place next to her, his hand resting on her back.

“Let’s see it, baby.” Drew grinned, taking a step back. Biting her lip, y/n walked forward, her hands smoothing down her sides as her heels clicked against the floor. She stopped in front of the camera, swaying her hips side to side, which earned a low whistle from Drew as she turned back towards him. Y/n felt her cheeks warm as she elbowed him lightly before stopping to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Ok, who smells the best.” Drew read, casting a quick look down at y/n. Lifting her head up, y/n took a quick smell of Drew’s neck before turning back to the camera.

“Drew smells like…” Y/n chewed her lip, “it’s like vanilla, smoky, cashmere— I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s definitely good.”

With a quick grin, Drew leaned down, his nose brushing gently against the sensitive spot behind y/n’s ear that caused her eyes to flutter slightly. Sensing her flustered expression, Drew leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against her neck before pulling away with a smirk.

“Yeah she smells good.” Drew giggled, y/n rolling her eyes.

“The people need details, Starkey.” Y/n teased, hitting her hip against Drew lightly.

“I– You just smell like you,” Drew said. “Like a nice, autumn afternoon, sat inside with a candle, just sort of lounging and laughing. That’s what you smell like. A nice, autumn afternoon.”

“Can you tell he’s an English major?” Y/n grinned.

“Alright, alright,” Drew blushed, “next challenge: stare into the camera for 10 seconds.”

Y/n stepped forward, straightening her posture before staring into the camera with her best sultry gaze. Tossing her hair back, y/n bit her lip before stepping back towards Drew.

“Let’s see those icy blues, baby.” Y/n said as Drew stepped forwards for his turn. Soothing a quick hand through his hair, Drew’s gaze landed on the camera. Y/n looked past him at the monitor, feeling herself get lost in Drew’s eyes before he moved back to stand next to her. As the challenges had gone on, she had unexpectedly found herself getting more and more flustered by Drew’s flirty attitude, a heat growing more and more unbearable in her cheeks.

“That’s it! How do you think you did?” Drew read, his hand snaking around y/n’s waist and pulling her flush to his side.

“I’m not sure about my performance, but I certainly feel pretty ‘rizzed up’.” Y/n bit her lip, staring up at Drew, his eyes already on her.

“Is that so?” Drew quirked an eyebrow, his tone teasing as his fingers traced the small of y/n’s back as she nodded. Reluctantly, y/n tore her gaze from Drew’s, focusing back on the camera despite the way her head spun.

“Well, thank you for having us and allowing us to demonstrate our rizz abilities.” Y/n said, waving to the camera. Drew joined her, his smile wide, until the cameras cut.

“We don’t have any interviews after this, right?” Drew whispered, his tongue darting out to slide across his bottom lip in a way that made y/n’s stomach flutter.

“Yup.” Y/n grinned up at him, her eyes lingering on the curve of Drew’s lips.

“Good. Let’s go.” Drew pressed a kiss to the top of y/n’s head before grabbing her by the hand, the two of them darting out of the studio and hoping to quickly find a spot where they could really put their “rizz” to use.

[thinking-emoji]

DnP Interview Masterlist

This is a work in progress! If you have any other links, send them to me!

Jan 2025

Shut Up I'm Talking Podcast (video) 26/1/2025 | mirror | add-on

Dec 2024

RNZ (audio) 10/12/2024 | mirror

Radio Adelaide (audio) 10/12/2024 | mirror | mirror

Junkee (article) 6/12/2024

Junkee (video) 6/12/2024

Today Show (video) 5/12/2024 | mirror | mirror

Nov 2024

Buzzfeed (article) 22/11/2024 | mirror | mirror

People (article) 1/11/2024 | mirror

Oct 2024

People (article) 6/10/2024

YourEx (article) 5/10/2024 | mirror | mirror

Master up to 2023 (courtesy of @stillarchivingdnp)

YWGTTN promo master (courtesy of @dailydnp)

May 2024

Dan: Times Radio (video) 11/5/2024

2023

Dan: Anthony Padilla (video) 17/1/2023

Dan: DNA Magazine (article) 9/1/2023

2022

Dan: Santa Barbara Independent (article) 30/11/2022

Dan: Gay Times (article) 11/11/2022

Dan: heatworld (video) 1/11/2022

Dan: Hits Radio (video) 21/10/2022

Dan: The Star (article) 5/10/2022

Dan: Buzz (article) 12/9/2022

Dan: Manc Union (article) 18/8/2022

Dan: Square Mile (article) 29/7/2022

Dan: metro.co.uk (article) 9/6/2022

2021

Dan: How To Academy (video) 1/7/2021

Dan: 1883 (article) 30/6/2021

Dan: RNZ Nine to Noon (audio) 30/6/2021

Dan: GQ (article) 30/5/2021

Dan: Waterstones (video) 24/5/2021

Dan: Amazon (article) 12/5/2021

2020

Dan: Guardian (article) 26/12/2020 | mirror

Dan: Pink News (article) 4/12/2020

Dan: Attitude (article) 7/10/2020 | mirror | mirror | preview

Dan: ITV Britain Get Talking (audio) 7/10/2020 | mirror

Phil: Evening Standard (article) 3/2/2020

2019

Dan: BBC (video) 5/9/2019 | mirror

2018

HMV (article) 10/12/2018

Toy News (article) 5/3/2018

2017

Edinburgh TV Festival (video) 24/8/2017

2016

Penguin Platform (video) 10/11/2016

Stand Up to Cancer (video) 15/10/2016

Variety (article) 4/10/2016

The Big Wakeup Call (audio) 21/4/2016

2015

Star Sessions (video) 20/11/2025

Huffington Post (video) 19/11/2025

WOCA Radio (audio) 17/11/2015

Sunday Times (article) 8/11/2015

SugarScape, Pt. 2 (video) 11/10/2015

SugarScape (video) 9/10/2015

2014

Rock Forever Magazine (video) 19/4/2014

2013

The Independent (article) 1/6/2013

The 4:01 Show (video) 17/3/2013

Dan: Elision (article) 13/1/2013

2012

Dan: Huffington Post (article) 26/11/2012

[sturniqlo]

RAPPER!CHRIS x SINGER!READER

*.✧ get to know rapper!chris and singer!reader ✧.*

both sfw and nsfw

rapper!chris who listened to singer!readers entire discography after he met her

singer!reader who played hard to get to see just how much rapper!chris wanted her. and also because she knew about his history with girls. plus, she has a bit of trouble committing to anyone (but they both hooked up once before they started dating)

rapper!chris and singer!reader who are each others plus one to any and every event

rapper!chris who gets a chain with singer!readers name or initials on it

rapper!chris who eventually gets a tattoo of singer!readers' kiss mark. it's a total surprise for her once she had gotten back from a quick trip to nyc

rapper!chris and singer!reader who aren't afraid to show each other off. always posting each other on thier social media, pointing each other out at their shows, and mentioning each other during interviews and songs

rapper!chris who loves to go rough but will often times take it slow and soft to feel her and take his time with her

rapper!chris and singer!reader who love to do interviews/videos together just for fun. like BuzzFeed CELEB, ELLE, WIRED, and GQ. even when they're not promoting anything

rapper!chris who will publicly call out anyone who makes a rude comment about singer!reader or mentions her in a song that rubs him the wrong way

singer!reader who loves going to visit rapper!chris in the studio whenever he is recording. always brings him food, snacks, drinks, or anything he asks for

rapper!chris and singer!reader who love to make silly little songs together that don't make sense at all and never release them, however one time chris accidentally posted one of the songs and it accidentally made the charts for how silly it was. (it was about the lunch they had, had that day)

rapper!chris who is in awe of everything singer!reader has ever accomplished. he teared up when she won her very first grammy, was over the moon when her song went platinum in a week, went to every. single. show of her tour no matter what state or country it was in, he was there

rapper!chris who goes to every. single. show of singer!readers' tour no matter what state or country it's in, he's always there supporting her

singer!reader who always senses when rapper!chris is taking candid pictures of her

rapper!chris who puts singer!readers' moans into one of his songs and ends up putting it in his album with her consent of course

rapper!chris and singer!reader who are both so utterly in love with each other and everybody else loves them that they broke twitter the day they announced their engagement

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮★

an: not claiming this as my own idea! i know there as been several writers who have done this au before! anyways, i'm so excited to write for these two i love em already ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

masterlist | join my taglist

[lorarri]

★ . . . 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 , 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

summary , charles goes on buzzfeed to read thirst tweets about him? no more like about his amazing girlfriend and their sex life

pairing , charles leclerc x fem! gf! reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | f1 masterlist | next part

BUZZFEED → CHARLES LECLERC READS THIRST TWEETS

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | camprock! au x luke castellan series

when may castellan, the manager of the poisoned mercury, the hottest, new band on the scene, grows tired of the boys' antics, she sends them to camp half-blood to get their heads on straight.

luke castellan, heartthrob and lead singer, begins to see the punishment as a blessing in disguise when girls fawn over him at camp. that is until he met you, a fellow disappointment to her parent, who couldn't care less about him and his fame.

luke is anything but a quitter so he's determined to make you fall for him before he gets back on the road after summer. you're not having it.

or

an au loosely based on disney's camp rock where there are no gods and teenage dirtbag! luke castellan spends his summer falling in love with the girl who loves to argue with him. one-sided enemies to lovers.

meet the band! | silly posts about poisoned mercury au! | poisoned mercury playlists | smau masterlist | find hcs and asks under 'poisoned mercury chats' on my page

i. lifestyles of the rich and famous (introduction)

ii. bad reputation

iii. everybody talks

iv. end up here

v. damned if i do ya (damned if i don't)

vi. check yes, juliet

vii. just friends

r u mine? (smut blurb, mdni!)

viii. pink skies

delicate (friend group shenanigans: the boys and clarisse find out about luke and five star!)

ix. now you got me

meddle about (smut blurb, mdni)

x. long way home

post chb

close as strangers

asks

jealous! luke

cleaning luke's wounds

luke gets in trouble for the scratches you left

midnight swim

poisoned mercury plays never have i ever at buzzfeed

may and five star

fans want five star, not luke!

more to come!

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (ix)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky, obnoxious reader, groups of people that believe in the paranormal

A/N: im sorry i disappeared i am employed now and also i am depressed. anyway pls lemme know what u guys think i love reading comments and screaming and everything you have to say MWAH. next one is a big one boys

Previous part || Series masterlist

Bucky wakes up to a weary, bone-deep sense of dread.

Not the kind of dread that means a sniper is lurking outside his window. No, this is a very specific kind of dread that sets in suddenly, altogether at once.

He knows exactly what it means. 

You are about to ruin his day.

His eyes flicker open, adjusting to the light filtering through his windows. 

The floor is quiet. Too quiet, almost. 

Alpine is curled on the windowsill, tail flicking idly. But he finds her staring at him already with mild judgment, as if she knows exactly what’s about to happen.

Bucky rubs a hand down his face, exhaling. He doesn’t know why he feels like this, because you’d taken to simply texting him the location these days, and then banging on his door. 

It was routine. He’d come to expect it. Like it, even, the way someone likes mundane sounds such as the buzz of the microwave heating up their lunch everyday. 

Except there’s a sudden, loud slam against his window.

Alpine launches off the windowsill, scrambling away with a hiss. 

Bucky is out of bed before his brain catches up. Years of instinct launch him into motion as he grips the knife under his pillow, pivots toward the sound– 

And sees you.

Hovering. Three stories up.

Waving.

Bucky full-body recoils and it takes everything in him not to launch his fucking knife at the window. 

He glares at you, barely awake, trying to process the absolute absurdity of this moment.

You tap your wrist like a watch, mouthing, "Video shoot."

Bucky turns around and launches a pillow at the window, furiously mouthing back, “I hope you fall.”

You grin.

His furiousness turns to raging annoyance at best. Which, in turn, makes him angry again. 

Just as he’s about to throw something heavier, FRIDAY dims the window until you fade from view. He doesn’t know who FRIDAY is protecting. 

Bucky collapses back onto his mattress.

He contemplates ignoring you again, but experience has taught him that only makes things worse.

Five minutes later, he’s stomping down the stairs. 

Bucky yanks open the car door and slides into the passenger seat.

Wordlessly, he shoves a coffee in your direction.

You blink at it. “How do you know my coffee order?”

Bucky grunts. “Do you want it or not?”

You take it, narrowing your eyes as you watch him chug it like it’s water. “Coffee doesn’t even work on you. Why do you drink it?”

He pauses mid-sip.

You tilt your head. "Do you even like the taste?"

Bucky slowly stares at the coffee like it personally wronged him, because no, he’s coming to realise that didn’t really like it. 

“…No,” he allows slowly. 

“Then why are you drinking it?”

His grip tightens around the cup. He doesn’t have a good answer, so he doesn’t look at you.

“Bought it,” he grumbles. ‘M gonna drink it.” 

“Sunken cost fallacy, right there,” you hum. “You bought it, so now you have to suffer through it. That’s a weird thing you do, y'know.”

Bucky exhales sharply, already done with this conversation. “It’s just coffee.”

“It’s just coffee,” you agree, watching him out of the corner of your eye. “And you just can’t let yourself pick something else. You a glutton for punishment?”

He scowls, taking another sip of the stupid beverage he didnt expect to be having a crisis over in the evening. 

"Whole world of warm drinks out there, Barnes. You ever tried chai? A matcha? You could be a matcha guy."

"No."

"You could be drinking hot chocolate. I think you'd like that. Marshmallows and everything.”

Bucky grips his cup harder.

"Hell, even warm lemonade would be a better choice."

Bucky scrunches his nose at the thought of warm lemonade and chugs his coffee out of spite.

You shake your head. “Whatever. Drink your hot bean water then.”

Silence stretches. The car hums down the highway. The weight of whatever he’s been avoiding lingers in the air between you.

Only five minutes later does it occur to him to ask.

“Where are we going?”

You shoot him a wide smile. “To make you some friends.”

Bucky closes his eyes. “I have friends.”

“You have Sam. And Steve.”

“Sam and Steve are enough.”

“Sam and Steve are legally obligated to be your friends.”

Bucky side-eyes you. “That’s not how friendship works.”

“You’d be surprised.”

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. "Is this another haunted house? ‘Cause if it is, I'm staying in the car."

"No haunted house."

"Then what?"

You drum your fingers on the wheel. "We're going to check out the fastest-growing paranormal club in the city."

Bucky exhales through his nose, mentally preparing himself. 

"What’s the scam?" he deadpans.

"No scam." You pause. "Well, maybe a little scam. But I’m choosing to believe in the inherent goodness of humanity."

Bucky glances at you. “What kind of scam?”

“Maybe you’ll find yourself today, y’know? Maybe you’ll even be a treasured member of this club.” 

Bucky leans all the way back in his seat, shutting his eyes before he has an aneurysm. 

The location is exactly as sketchy as Bucky expected.

Which, to be clear, is very. 

A run-down community center at the edge of the city, sandwiched between a failing laundromat and a storage facility that definitely has bodies in it. 

The parking lot has three cars, two of which are missing doors. The third is a white van with no plates.

Bucky stares at it. “I’m staying in the car.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You can get your organs harvested. I’m not in the mood for that today.”

“We are not getting our organs harvested.” 

“We are about to walk into a situation that requires a white van with no plates.”

You tap the steering wheel. “You’re focusing on the wrong details.”

“Oh? What fuckin’ details should I be focusing on?”

You refuse to make eye contact. “I will not be taking questions at this time.”

A sign by the door says:

WELCOME, SEEKERS OF THE TRUTH.

Bucky points at it. “What the fuck is that?”

“They’re just seekers, Buck.” You unbuckle. “They’re seeking. Let them seek.”

“That’s not what that means.”

“They have over five hundred members in their Facebook group.”

Bucky rubs a hand down his face. “The Boogeyman fan club has eight thousand, so what?”

“Okay, but to be fair-- Boogeyman’s hot.”

Bucky stares at you.

You stare back, unblinking.

“Do you want me to respond to that?”

“Only if you agree.”

Bucky inhales slowly, counting to ten.

Still, he gets out of the car. Because he always does.

The guy at the door looks exactly like someone who would be enthusiastic about this kind of thing. Whatever it was. 

Late twenties, cargo pants, black t-shirt, and… a cape. He stands in the doorway like he’s personally responsible for deciding who gets to know the truth.

Bucky is already exhausted.

You, however, are delighted.

“Hi!” you chirp, walking up to him. “We’re The Gra-”

Instead, the guy squints. “Hold on. I know you. You’re from TV.”

“Uh, yeah, he is-” you glance at Bucky, who glares at you for throwing him under the bus, but it’s not like you had been set up for interviews just yet or had any major public saves like the Battle of Earth. You operated on a scale similar to Spiderman until now. The Avengers were really just your first big corporate job. 

“No, I recognise you,” he looks pointedly at Bucky, before narrowing his eyes. “You got no reason to be out here-”

A few years ago Bucky’s shoulders would have tensed immediately, already bracing for the inevitable Winter Soldier comment.  

“Hey now,” you force a smile onto your face. 

“--showing your face in public,” the guy continues, gearing up. 

“Okay,” Bucky says, because he’s dealt with enough of public vitriol to really have it faze him anymore.

You prepare to take a step in front of him, body stiff. “Now let’s not get-”

“After breaking her heart like that? Shame on you.”

Bucky blinks. You also blink, steps halting.

“I’m sorry, whose heart?” he asks, looking between you and the guy.

The guy snaps his fingers.  "You're the one on that show. Love Island, aren’t ya?”

Bucky’s entire soul exits his body.

He blinks. Once. Twice. 

He processes the words and does not fucking understand them.

The guy nods, like he’s just cracked a case. “Yeah. My girlfriend fucking hates you, bro.”

Bucky opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.

You, on the other hand, look like this is the greatest single living moment of your life. “Oh my god, Barnes.”

Bucky looks to the sky for help. None arrives.

“What the fuck is a Love Island?”

The guy crosses his arms. “Deny it all you want, man. But we all saw what you did to Lulu.”

“I was literally a prisoner of war for seventy years.”  

“And yet,” you say, eyes twinkling with evil delight, “you still had time to emotionally devastate a woman named Lulu on national television.”

Bucky turns to you, betrayed. “Who the fuck is Lulu?”

The guy shakes his head in disappointment. “Shame on you, man.”

You clap the guy on the shoulder. “You’re so right- what’s your name? Troy? You’re so right, Troy. Bucky here thinks just because he has a pretty face and a rockin’ bod, he can break hearts without consequences.”

“What the fuck is a Love Island?” Bucky asks in despair. 

“Ashamed of what gave you your fame?” You click your roof to the top of your mouth. “People would do anything for the opportunity to be shirtless on a beach for three months-”

“Someone tell me what the fuck a Love Island is.” Bucky drags a palm across his face.

“It’s not you? Oh.” Troy deflates, glancing at you instead. “Are you the one from Love Island then?”

“I wish.” You pull your lips into a straight line. “Some people just aren’t grateful for the chance they’re given.”

“Oh wait. I recognise you, you're from that ghost show.” He brightens up again, wagging his finger at you. “My niece loves you.”

You nudge Bucky in excitement at the news, as if you hadn’t induced fifteen years worth of self-hatred into him twenty seconds ago. “Tell your niece she's got great taste.”

He nods briefly. “So, what are you doing here?” 

“We heard this is the fastest-growing paranormal group in the city. Just wanted to check it out.”

The guy perks up immediately. “Oh yeah! The Ghost’s energy is real strong tonight. Dennis said he’s been slamming Monster Energy all day, so the vibes are there, man.”

Bucky’s expression does not change. “Who is Dennis?”

“Our medium.”

You nod sagely. “Of course.”

“He’s got a newsletter. You wanna subscribe?”

“Gee, I sure do,” Bucky says dryly.

You elbow him. “We wanted to join the club first.”

“Alright,” he chirps. “I’m sure Dennis won't mind. Meeting starts in ten minutes. You can grab your cloaks by the door and head on in.”

Bucky stops. “Cloaks?”

“Yeah, it's imperative to the Ghost that we dress the same.”

“Absolutely fucking-” 

“Don't worry about him, he's only upset that he didn't get to bring his own cloak,” you interject immediately. “It came free with his coffin and some sunscreen.”

Bucky steps on your foot. You give him a small kick.

“Alright, well, you can have ours. It’s usually five bucks each but I’ll let it slide if you sign something for my niece,” Troy says. “If you're filming, please keep the flash off.”

“You got it, boss,” you salute.

The guy shrugs. “Meeting starts in ten. You can drink from the chalice and head on in.”

Bucky immediately locks onto that second part. “The what?”

The guy pulls out a black goblet filled with dark red liquid.

Bucky immediately takes a step back.

The guy holds it out. “It’s the Ghost’s essence. Dennis prepares it before every meeting.”

Bucky and you stare at it.

You lean in, sniffing inconspicuously. “What ingredients are in the Ghost’s… essence?” 

The guy shrugs. “Dunno. Dennis just goes into a room, talks to the Ghost for a bit, and comes back with this. It’s different every time.”

Bucky’s stare is flat. “Oh yeah. That’s normal.”

“Here, try.”

Bucky does not move. “I’m allergic.”

“To what?”

“Yes.”

The guy frowns. “You haven’t even tasted it-”

“I’m allergic,” Bucky repeats. “Real bad. Death and everything.”

You nod solemnly. “I already had some.”

The guy blinks. “You did?”

“Yep, just couldn't help myself. Found some around here and I felt the Ghost really call to me.” You beam rather convincingly. 

“I think it’s calling to you again, you should try some more,” Bucky tells you.

“Nope. Had plenty. Gotta save some for the others,” you say loudly, kicking his foot again. “It was great, though. Ghost tastes great- I mean, got great taste.”

“Well in that case, here’s your cloak and you can head on in,” he smiles at you before turning to Bucky. “You’ll have to pay, though.”

Bucky’s face scrunches. “I’m in the fuckin’ show too.”

“So you are from Lo-”

“I was not on Love Island,” he declares definitely.

“Right,” he drags, like he doesn’t quite believe him. “Five bucks.”

Bucky stares at him. Troy smiles right back.

Bucky grumbles, relenting as he reaches out into his pocket to shell out five dollars.

Bucky had taken the mandatory black cloak with all the enthusiasm of someone being handed a parking ticket.

You, on the other hand, are already swirling yours around your shoulders like you’re about to perform a monologue.

“Personally, I’m not too fond of the silhouette, but it’s fine for a last-minute fit, I guess.” You adjust the hood, pulling it low over your eyes before striking a pose. “Do you think I look cute?”

Bucky blinks. He wasn’t expecting the question. His brain short-circuits almost immediately. 

You tilt your head, waiting.

He cannot figure out what to say, so he simply lets out a grunt. It’s extremely embarrassing. 

"I'll take that as a yes."  

Bucky makes a face. 

Instead, he moves to something else entirely. Flips his cloak over his shoulders, tying it into a perfect, military-precise knot in two seconds flat. 

You raise an eyebrow. “Well, that was fast.”

“It’s a knot. Not rocket science.”

You step in closer, reaching out to tug lightly at the strings of his cloak. “Did you go full Boy Scout at some point? Or was that just, like, a super useful skill in your assassin era?”

Bucky does not move. “Are you done?”

You grin. “Nope. I like being all up in your space. You’re even hotter up close.” 

He immediately steps back.

“Coward.”

“Don’t want you ruining my knot.” Bucky tugs it tighter, then glares down at your very haphazardly tied cloak. “Jesus. That’s a disaster.”

"I was going for a more casual look."

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Give it.”

“Oh, so now you want to touch me?”

Bucky freezes for half a second, until you laugh and then it turns into a half-hearted glare. 

Then, without reacting, he reaches out and untangles your mess of a knot with infuriating ease.

You watch him carefully as he ties it. He’s surprisingly gentle, fingers working quickly.

“You’re being very careful.”

“You’ll find a way to strangle yourself otherwise.”

“Is this your version of caring?”

Bucky ignores you.

“Oh, it is.”

“Just- shut up. Five minutes. I’ll pay you.”

Bucky steps back, hands off. The knot is perfect. He gives it a quick tug to test it, then nods.

You stare at him.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” You grin, pulling the hood over your head. “I just think it’s adorable that you want me to live.”

Bucky mutters something unintelligible under his breath and gestures toward the meeting hall. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

The room is set up like a middle school talent show.

Rows of metal chairs, some folding, some clearly stolen from a diner, all arranged in a rows in front of a small, elevated stage. The stage itself is haphazardly draped with black fabric, trying to give the illusion of magic but mostly looking like a supermarket Halloween clearance aisle.

There is, for some fucking reason, a fog machine in the corner, already hissing out an unnecessary amount of smoke. The whole room smells faintly of lavender essential oils and burnt plastic.

"I gotta say, I expected more," you hum, adjusting your cloak as you scan the room.

“Like what?”

You shrug. “I dunno. Maybe some candles? You’d think they’d at least have, like, a bowl of blood or something.”

Bucky side-eyes you. “Not everything has to fuckin’ theatrical all the time. Just ‘cause you’re floating around 23 hours of the day, scaring the shit out of everyone.” 

You grin. “Oh, so you do think my theatrics are effective.”

Bucky realizes his mistake immediately. “That is not what I said.”

"No, no, I heard it," you smirk, nudging his shoulder as you lean in slightly. "You're saying that my supernatural entrance at your window was extremely well-executed."

Bucky glares at you. “I am saying nothing.”

"You're saying I have a flair for the dramatic. That my execution is flawless. That you-"

Bucky reaches over and yanks your hood over your face.

"Mmph-" You flail immediately, dragging it back. "Rude."

Bucky hides a smile to himself but doesn’t say anything.

You narrow your eyes. “You know, you should consider a little showmanship yourself.”

"No."

"I mean, look at you," you gesture vaguely at him, ignoring him. "You've got the sexy ex-assassin, current caveman aesthetic locked down. I’m imagining a trench coat. Maybe a few monologues in the rain. You’d be unstoppable.”

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. “What do I have to do to get you to shut up?”

“Put your tulips on my tulips-”

He gets up and moves one seat over, away from you and the heat blossoming on his face. 

You follow right behind him with a grin, satisfied.

Mercifully, something your attention is drawn to the people entering the room before you notice his face flushing. 

The crowd is a mix of true believers and people who are clearly just here for the novelty of it. Some attendees look fully committed, hoods drawn, faces solemn. Others are whispering and pulling out their phones, probably posting about this on some platform.

You, however, are too busy fiddling with your cloak.

"This fabric is trash," you mutter, pulling at it. "What is this, polyester? It’s so staticky."

"That’s the real issue here," Bucky mutters.

"It is when I keep getting shocked," you say, rubbing your wrist where the fabric clings.

Bucky watches you for half a second too long when you tug at it with annoyance, brows pulled together.

Maybe he should’ve been honest earlier when you asked how he thought you looked. 

Instead, he clears his throat and looks away.

More people take seats. 

The atmosphere changes suddenly when a man in his late thirties walks up to the podium. 

He wears a deep purple cloak, slightly different from the ones given at the door. His hair is combed neatly back, his expression calm and composed.

He raises a hand. The murmurs in the room die down almost immediately.

You lean toward Bucky slightly. "Okay, so we have our medium."

Bucky doesn’t respond, but his jaw shifts slightly.

The man smiles. "Welcome, seekers of truth."

A few people nod reverently.

Bucky leans toward you. "You owe me five bucks."

"What?"

"I bet you earlier that he was going to say ‘seekers of truth’ within the first two minutes."

You peer at him. "I don't remember making that bet."

“We absolutely did.”

“You’re just trying to get back the five bucks you spent on the cloak.”

On stage, Dennis continues.

"Tonight is special," he says smoothly. "The Ghost’s energy is stronger than ever."

A few people murmur in agreement.

Bucky leans in again. "If I start screaming, do you think they'll kick me out?"

"Fuck around and find out, babygirl."

Instead of responding, he reaches over and yanks the knot he had tied securely for you loose. 

You glare at it. Then at him.

"If you wanted to take my clothes off, you could have just asked," you whisper. “At least buy me dinner first.” 

 "I hate you."

"You don't."

"I’ve never hated anyone more."

"You don't," you say, tapping his knee lightly. "You like my company, even if it causes you physical pain. That’s why it sucks even worse for you."

Bucky makes a sound that is a little too like a growl. 

The speaker, oblivious, raises his hands again.

Then, with a slow, practiced movement, he turns back toward the stage.

The room settles. The tension shifts.

Bucky doesn’t like it.

Not because it’s weird, exactly- he’s been in weirder places. But because he knows a performance when he sees one.

Dennis moves deliberately. Every step, every gesture, designed for impact.

And then, in a voice as smooth as a radio host’s, he speaks.

"The Ghost moves among us tonight," he says, pacing slowly across the stage. "I felt it earlier. A shift in the air. A whisper."

Bucky leans toward you.

"Did the Ghost also tell him to crank the fog machine to maximum?"

You bite back a grin. "It adds ambiance."

"It adds a fucking fire hazard."

You both glance toward the corner of the room, where the mist machine continues pumping out thick, curling fog.

It’s a lot, and smells faintly chemical and like no fog Bucky has ever smelt before. It spills along the floor, reaching all the way to the back row of seats.

Dennis stops, tilting his head.

"The energy here is special," he murmurs. "Do you feel it?"

A few people murmur in agreement.

Bucky does not murmur.

Instead, he tunes in, watching the room, the way people react. Watching the way Dennis pauses just long enough to let silence work in his favour.

It's polished. Which means it’s bullshit.

You’re half-listening, half-scanning the room. Not just in the way you usually soak in information, but in a subtler way. Like you’re looking for something.

Bucky notices. He wonders if he should ask. 

Dennis closes his eyes briefly, as if receiving a message.

"Some of you are new," he says suddenly, his voice shifting slightly. "Some of you have never been here before. You’ve been drawn here. Led here. Perhaps by curiosity, or fate, or something deeper. Whatever the reason, you are here now."

And then Dennis gestures to the audience.

A few nods in the audience. Someone exhales softly, like they’re already halfway into a trance.

Dennis begins to pace. Slow, measured steps, his fingers twitching slightly as if he’s channeling something.

"The spirit has whispered to me once again." His voice lowers. "I have seen visions."

A murmur spreads through the audience.

Dennis stops. Closes his eyes for effect.

"Dark visions. Visions of the Great Ghost of Nickasta’s past."

Dennis opens his eyes, gaze sweeping the room. "Tonight, we will consult with- is someone filming?"

Every head snaps around, straight toward you and Bucky.

Bucky doesn’t move.

You blink. Then, very slowly, you look down at the camera in your hands.

“Uh, yeah. Hi.” You raise your hand slightly, like a student in class. “We're new. The Graveyard Shift here to witness the-”

You dig around in your pocket, pulling out a folded-up flyer, squinting at it in the dark.

"-transformative power of communicating with ghosts."

You fold it back up and look at him expectantly.

Dennis’ smile tightens. "Recording is not encouraged." 

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

Dennis stares at him. With just a touch too much hesitation, he says “It disturbs the Ghost from reaching full power.”

Bucky’s head cranes.

"Keep that thing on," he tells you as if you had any plans of shutting it off, before raising his voice. "Why not? Don't you wanna get your message out there? Help people?"

Dennis' clasped hands remain tight.

"It is not my message," he says smoothly. "It is the Ghost’s. I am merely a vessel."

Bucky’s lips press together. "Great. Free publicity for the Ghost."

"Yeah, we're doing pretty well on YouTube," you add, twirling the camera slightly in your hands. "Could be doing better on Instagram, but this guy refuses to go live."

Bucky glares. “It’s not gonna happen. Let it go.”

Dennis’ jaw tightens slightly. His gaze does another quick sweep of the room.

Then, finally- 

"No." He plasters on a tight smile. "You may continue. But know this-some things cannot be captured by a device so primitive as a camera."

"I’ll take that risk." Bucky leans back in his chair, smug, before adding under his breath to you, "He’s definitely scamming."

You snort. "Give him a chance."

"I gave him five bucks."

"And you got a very hot cloak out of it, which your shoulders look incredible in."

Bucky glares ahead.

"What visions were you having?" someone in the crowd shouts, following it up with a strange laugh. 

Bucky’s eyebrows pull together. 

Dennis claps his hands together, a smooth pivot away from the interruption.

"Ah, yes, the visions!" he announces, voice swelling with importance. "The Ghost has revealed to me a story of great suffering! Of betrayal! Of a spirit trapped! A mighty beast who could not be contained!"

A few people in the crowd gasp, others burst into tiny giggles. Bucky wonders if others were here for the shits and laughs too. 

"How big?" someone in the crowd shouts.

Dennis' eyes light up. He lifts his arms wide, stretching as far as he can.

"He was... huge!" he exclaims, pacing the stage, cloak billowing slightly behind him. "Larger than life itself! And he was trapped, my friends."

A few people gasp softly.

Dennis cries out, "Trapped in chains by the very people who claimed to ‘love’ him!"

Bucky’s face remains blank.

"His mighty beast was strong, yes, but he was misunderstood. He wanted to be free, to live among the people in peace. But no! They took him, they made him fight, and then they... they trapped him!"

Dennis throws himself against the table, inhaling deeply like he’s just been hit by divine revelation. "They made him climb a tall tower!"

He wonders if it actually hurt the guy, all the throwing himself around that he was doing. 

"They paraded him for all to see, mocking him!"

Bucky's eyes close briefly, as if in pain. "Okay."

Mist grows stronger around the room, almost like he’s stuck in a room with a bunch of vapers.

His nose scrunches up immediately, eyes stinging lightly as he blinks.

“What the hell is that smell,” he blows the air in front of him.

“Chemical, with undernotes of sweetness,” you note. “Is that what the Ghost smells like or is it a creative interpretation?”

“It's gonna give me a migraine.”

“Breathe through your mouth, then,” you say, raising the camera up and zooming into Dennis doing… whatever.

Bucky just shrugs the stupid cloak off his shoulders and ties it around his face in a makeshift balaclava.

“I feel it,” Dennis announces, throwing his hands in the air. “It is here.”

“What is?” the crowd cries.

“My migraine,” Bucky answers.

You shove at his knee with yours.

Someone stumbles to their feet. “The beast... the spirit... it’s... it's all so beautiful!”

People around him burst into giggles.

“I can feel it, it’s... inside me!” someone in the front laughs loud enough to drown out the music.

“Yes! Yes! The Ghost is in all of you!” Dennis shouts, pointing. “We are all like the beast, misunderstood and bound by chains, but we must rise above it all--"

“I am rising,” the same cloak guy from earlier chuckles, knocking the chair behind him to the ground as he stands up. “I see the Ghost.”

“Oh,” you comment, looking around to see everyone with their hands up in the air.

Bucky's arms stay firmly crossed over his chest as he sits slumped in his miserable little chair, staring at the crowd around him around him.

“Everyone's doing something,” you observe through all the loud laughter.

“I can see that,” he says, noticing that your knee continues to brush against his after you shoved at him before coming to a rest. His throat constricts in a way that makes talking a little more difficult.

He pulls the stupid cloth tighter around his face because whatever the smell was, it clearly was giving him a physical reaction.

“I’m having FOMO.”  

“By all means, do not let them make you feel that way,” Bucky grumbles, in what he thought was a tone dropping with sarcasm.

“You're right,” you say, dumping the camera on him before standing up with your hands in the air.

Great. Now he was responsible for this thing too.

“They tried to tear him down from his tower,” Dennis shouts.

“Who?” you shout back like it’s a fucking improv show.

“The Witch! The righteous witch, walking along her path of gold!”

“What?” you stop immediately. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It’s the pink lady from Wizard of Oz,” Bucky says casually.

You turn to him, eyebrow raised.

“His great beast is King Kong. Tower, beast, misunderstood, made to fight,” Bucky replies. “Nick and Asta are characters from The Thin Man.”

You lean toward him. "What?"

“He’s bastardizing movies from the 20s.”

You squint toward Dennis, who is still in full Shakespearan mode.

"Can you feel the injustice, my children?" Dennis exclaims. "Can you see the Ghost at work?"

You grin. "Are you telling me you sat through movies in the ‘20s?"

"I was alive in the ‘20s, what the fuck else was I supposed to do?"

Dennis continues, "We are all on a journey, a journey just like those travelers in the great dust storm- oh yes, yes, the spirit shows me! We must keep pushing forward, even when the sand storm rages!"

Bucky grimaces immediately. "Grapes of Wrath."

"What?" 

"Saw it when it was released. Thought it was boring as fuck."

You try to stifle a laugh. "You look so young, sometimes I forget you were childhood friends with Adam and Eve."

Bucky glares at you. 

Dennis throws his arms out. "Another! Another in the room with us! This mechanical Titan with a heart of gold! They saw him as just a machine, but no, no! He was so much more! The spirit showed me! He was a reflection of the true power within us all-"

"Metropolis," he mutters. “Thea von Harbou's novel."

“Bucky, you fucking nerd.” You tap his shoulder, grinning. “Look at you, busting scams and quoting movies made during the dawn of time. Do you know how hot you are?”

“What?”

“I said, are you single? I’m asking for a friend.”

“Uh huh,” he replies, when the mist pumps into the room.

“I’m the friend.”

“Got that,” he replies, focusing on literally anything else.

Dennis continues without missing a beat. "But wait! Not all of you have followed the spirit’s true path!"

The room goes quiet. Dennis' eyes scan the crowd before he points suddenly.

"You! Yes, you!"

For a second, Bucky thinks he’s pointing at him.

"You betrayed the spirit, didn’t you? You-"

You poke Bucky. "Did you betray the spirit?"

"Only when I felt like it," he mutters.

However, the man in the row ahead of you suddenly lets out a panicked noise.

"I- I needed to go to the bathroom so bad!" he cries. "The line to the club was so long, and the bouncers weren’t letting anyone in, so I just cut ahead-"

Dennis gasps. A few others in the room let out soft, horrified whispers, as if the man had committed a felony. 

"No!" Dennis shouts, pointing like he’s passing divine judgment.

The poor guy visibly withers in his seat.

"You have broken the trust of the divine!" Dennis booms. "You must atone!"

The man trembles. "W-what should I do?"

Bucky mutters under his breath. "Is everyone here on drugs?"

Dennis softens slightly, his voice taking on a careful, patronizing tone.

"The spirit demands retribution," he says. "But the Ghost is merciful. And today, so very generous. For a small donation, you will have the chance to cleanse yourself from the darkness."

Bucky watches the guy scramble for his wallet. "Is he selling forgiveness?"

The man hands over thirty bucks.

"This is literally how the Church split,” he mumbles.

You suppress a laugh. "Did it affect your Sunday plans?"

Bucky shoots you a dry look. "I was born in 1917. The Church split four hundred years before that."

"Oh, right." You nod seriously. "I just assumed you were there when Martin Luther nailed his stuff to the door."

Bucky exhales, pressing the heel of his palm into his temples.

The fog thickens.

Dennis' voice rises. "Everyone quiet! The Ghost is speaking!"

You turn to Bucky. "The Ghost is speaking, Buck."

Bucky groans. "You mean till now he’s been freestyling?"

Dennis throws his hands up toward the ceiling. "I feel it! It is here!"

Bucky’s nose twitches. The smell is stronger now, almost becoming hard to see through-- 

A split second later, you both realize.

Your eyes widen. "Is that--"

"Nitrous oxide," Bucky confirms, standing up.

"Pumping laughing gas into the room, are you fucking kidding me?" you curse. “We need to air this place out.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Bucky turns sharply, scanning the room. He watches as shoulders slump, as people laugh for no reason. A guy near the front sways slightly, blinking like he’s forgotten where he is.

Someone else lets out a dazed giggle.

Bucky’s focus zeroes in on the mist machine, still hissing. There are small metal canisters stacked neatly beside it, refilling the room.

Bucky crosses the room in four steps.

Dennis barely has time to turn and register the movement before Bucky grabs one of the small pressurized canisters, gripping it in one hand.

"Hey! What are you-"

Bucky doesn’t answer, instead throwing it straight through the window.

The glass explodes outward, scattering onto the pavement outside.

A rush of cold air floods in.

The sound shocks the room, pulling some people out of their haze. Others are still too fogged up to react.

Dennis' face twists in outrage. "What the fuck?!”

"Show’s over," he mutters, chucking the second one too.

It slams into the glass and tumbles outside, hissing as it empties into the night.

Dennis looks like he might actually explode. "You’re ruining-"

"You can talk to the great Ghost through your one phone call in jail," Bucky interrupts, brushing glass off his sleeve.

Dennis lets out a furious noise, grabbing the stupid silver chalice from the table beside him and hurls it directly at Bucky’s head.

Bucky barely tilts his head to the side but finds that there’s really no need.

The chalice stops midair. Hangs there. Slowly floats back to the table, settling back into place.

Dennis' rage turns into something closer to panic.

"Let’s not get pissy now," you remark, voice syrupy sweet.

"Fuck you," Dennis snarls.

And then, in an act of desperation, he grabs a knife from the altar.

It’s cheap plastic. It’s definitely a prop. This guy was fuckin’ nuts.

Still, he lifts it like he’s going to lunge at Bucky.

Except his own cloak yanks tight around his arms.

Dennis lets out a choked sound as it wraps, pulling his limbs against his sides.

The curtain behind him rips off its hooks, swirling around him.

In seconds, he’s bound to the chair behind him, like some kind of villain in a medieval play.

The room stares.

You smile, pleasantly.

"Enough," you say, voice cooler than it should be.

Dennis glares daggers at you.

Bucky glances at you, mouth twitching slightly. 

Only then do you notice silence has fallen. 

You look at the crowd, only to find them watching you.

Someone in the back lets out a horrified whisper. 

"The spirit is here."

The crowd erupts.

"Where?" you ask, genuinely confused.

"The Ghost!" someone screams. "It's you!"

You blink. "Oh, me?"

They nod fervently.

A few drop to their knees.

You process this for a moment. Then grin like you just won the lottery.

"Oh, right. Yeah. Of course it’s me." You lift your arms slightly. "Hey, y’all." 

The crowd gasps. 

“Guide us.”

Bucky groans. "Some fuckin’ role model you’ve got there."

You pretend not to hear him. Instead, you do what you’ve seen Wanda do a million times, even though it really did nothing for you. 

You lift your hands slightly. Let your feet rise just a little off the floor. 

The room erupts in gasps.

"Fuck’s sake," Bucky mutters, dropping his head into his hands.

You clear your throat. "Yes, it is I. Spirit of Stick Blasta."

"Nickasta," Bucky corrects.

"Nickasta," you confirm. "I have traveled a long time to be here."

"Twenty minutes."

"Twenty millennia."

Bucky watches as you fake-peek through your half-closed eyes.

"I have some wisdom to share," you announce.

The crowd leans forward.

Bucky leans back.

"First!" you bellow. "Do not listen to anyone who stands on stage and says they've got a spirit moving through them. They're lying."

"But you’re doing that," Bucky heckles.

"Except me. I’m legit," you add quickly.

Bucky watches as you subtly flip him off with one of your raised hands.

"Second!" you continue. "Do not pay people for forgiveness."

You pause. "Unless that person’s name is Prosecutor and you’re bored of how long the case is being-"

"Next one," Bucky interrupts loudly.

You wave a hand dismissively.

"Third…" You falter. "I don’t know. Does anyone have suggestions?"

The crowd stares.

Bucky facepalms.

"Right. No suggestions." You clap your hands together. "Meeting adjourned."

The room is silent.

Then, someone whispers, "What… what do we do now?”

You land lightly on the floor again, brushing nonexistent dust off your cloak.

"For realsies, though, I suggest you get any money you paid this guy back. And then sue him into oblivion.” 

Dennis makes furious muffled noises from under the curtain still binding him.

You glance at him.

With zero effort, Dennis gets dragged backward, vanishing backstage.

The crowd stares.

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Everyone out," Bucky orders.

The crowd obeys instantly.

Still dazed, still giggling from the leftover gas, they shuffle toward the exits.

Bucky looks at you. "Are you fine?"

You ignore him. 

Instead, you call after the crowd, "And call someone to pick you up!"

They nod vaguely.

"I already called the paramedics, they'll be here in a minute!" you shout. “Don’t go anywhere.” 

Bucky’s expression tightens.

"Are you fine?" he repeats.

You wave it off. "Oh yeah. It takes way more substances to get me high. All this was covered under the Leviathan Weapon of Mass Destruction starter kit.  What about you?"

"Me too." Bucky shrugs. After a pause, he clears his throat. "You didn’t have to tie him up."

"He was annoying,” you say flippantly. 

"I wasn’t actually in danger."

"I know."

"It was probably grape juice."

"I know."

"I didn’t need help."

"I know."

Bucky narrows his eyes at you. "What’s your play here?"

"My play?" You scoff. "I know this emo lone wolf thing is something you’ve been cultivating carefully for years, but sometimes, people can do things for you and have it not be a play."

Bucky stares. "Like what?"

"Like I don’t know-- trying to protect you even if you don’t need it." You turn on your heel, hopping down from the stage. "Or like checking to see if you’re still breathing when you’re lying face down on the table."

Bucky does not respond, feeling his fingers get all fidgety. 

 “C’mon,” you tell him, halfway out the door. “We’ve got some explaining to do.”

He clears his throat, rolls his shoulders back and starts behind you.

“We’ve got all the footage. So that should be good." You turn to eye him. "But you know what’ll really help our case? You keeping that cloak on.” 

Bucky groans, yanking at the fabric that hung across his neck like a bath towel. "I’m gonna set this thing on fire."

"You won’t. You are the cloak now.""

"I will."

“You’re still wearing it. I think you actually like it.”

Bucky grinds his teeth. "I’m leaving."

"In the cloak?"

"Shut up."

"I think it makes you look distinguished."

Bucky storms toward the exit.

You follow, grinning the whole way.

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Paul Mescal Masterlist

The Puppy Interview is one of the most beloved staples of celebrity culture. There’s something about seeing big-name stars cuddling with bundles of wiggly joy that makes even the most reserved fans swoon. So, when BuzzFeed announced that newly engaged couple Y/N, the rising star actress, and Paul Mescal, the award-winning Irish actor, would be participating in the segment, social media went into a frenzy.

The scene opens in a cozy studio, soft ambient lighting casting a golden hue over the carpeted floor. A large white playpen dominates the space, adorned with toys, blankets, and bowls of treats. Off-camera, faint yips and barks echo—the stars of the show are ready.

Y/N and Paul sit side by side on the floor, leaning against a fluffy couch. She’s dressed casually in an oversized sweater and jeans, her engagement ring catching the light as she tucks her hair behind her ear. Paul, in a simple t-shirt and joggers, radiates his usual easygoing charm, though he’s clearly excited. Both are grinning like kids on Christmas morning.

“Right, let’s get started,” Paul says with a laugh, clapping his hands together as the first batch of puppies is released.

A litter of golden retriever puppies bounds into the room, tails wagging furiously. The couple’s faces light up as the puppies swarm them, tumbling over each other in their excitement.

“Oh my God, look at them!” Y/N exclaims, scooping up a particularly tiny pup with floppy ears. “You are so small! How are you even real?”

Paul laughs as a more adventurous puppy climbs onto his lap, gnawing on the drawstring of his joggers. “This one’s already causing trouble. You’d fit right in at my family’s house,” he quips, scratching behind the puppy’s ears.

The interviewer, speaking from off-camera, begins with a warm greeting. “Welcome, Y/N and Paul! How does it feel to be surrounded by this much cuteness?”

“Overwhelming,” Y/N replies, her voice soft as she cuddles her puppy closer. “But in the best way. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

Paul nods in agreement, holding up the puppy on his lap so they’re eye level. “I mean, look at this face. How could you not feel pure joy?”

The interviewer chuckles. “We’ve got some fan-submitted questions for you two. Let’s dive in. First up: What’s the best part about being engaged?”

Y/N and Paul exchange a quick glance, their connection palpable. Y/N speaks first. “I think for me, it’s just knowing that we’re building something together. Like, we’ve always been a team, but this feels like… the next chapter, you know?”

Paul nods, his expression softening. “Yeah, it’s like this little promise we’ve made to each other. It’s not about the ring or the labels; it’s about choosing each other every day. Also, she’s already started calling me her fiancé in random conversations, and it’s…” He pauses, grinning. “It’s the best thing ever.”

Y/N laughs, nudging him playfully. “Don’t make me cry. There are puppies here, Paul.”

The next question comes as Y/N tries to stop a particularly wriggly puppy from climbing onto her shoulder. “If you could describe each other in three words, what would they be?”

Paul leans back, pretending to think deeply. “Okay, for Y/N… I’d say passionate, hilarious, and… luminous.”

Y/N freezes, clearly touched. “Luminous? That’s such a good word.”

“It’s true,” Paul says earnestly. “You light up every room you walk into.”

“Stop it,” Y/N whispers, hiding her face behind the puppy in her arms. “Your turn.”

She takes a moment, her gaze soft as she looks at him. “Grounded, kind, and… soulful.”

Paul raises an eyebrow. “Soulful?”

“Yeah,” she says with a small shrug. “You feel things deeply, and it shows in everything you do—your acting, the way you treat people. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

For a moment, they’re lost in each other’s eyes, the puppies around them forgotten. The interviewer clears their throat, breaking the spell.

“All right, next question: What’s the weirdest thing you’ve learned about each other since living together?”

Y/N bursts out laughing. “Oh, I have so many answers to this.”

“Be nice,” Paul warns, though he’s grinning.

“Okay, okay,” she says, holding up a hand. “Paul has this… very specific way of making tea. He’ll boil the water, pour it into the mug, then immediately pour it out and boil fresh water again because he swears the first batch isn’t hot enough.”

Paul laughs, shaking his head. “It’s called precision, Y/N.”

“It’s called madness,” she teases. “But I love you for it.”

Paul grins, then retaliates. “Well, Y/N has this habit of talking to inanimate objects. Like, if she bumps into a chair, she’ll apologize to it. Or she’ll thank the fridge for keeping the milk cold.”

“That’s called being polite,” Y/N says, feigning indignation. “You should try it sometime.”

They’re interrupted by a tiny yelp as one of the puppies tumbles into Paul’s lap. He immediately picks it up, cradling it like a baby. “You okay, little one? You’re stealing the show here.”

The interview continues with more fan questions, ranging from their go-to karaoke songs (“Toxic” by Britney Spears for Y/N, and “Dreams” by The Cranberries for Paul) to their guilty pleasures (“Cheesy reality TV,” they both admit simultaneously, laughing).

As the session wraps up, the interviewer asks one final question. “If you could give one piece of advice to your younger selves, what would it be?”

Y/N’s expression turns thoughtful. “I’d tell her that it’s okay to take risks, even if they’re scary. And that the right people will love you for exactly who you are.”

Paul nods, his gaze steady. “I’d say something similar. I’d tell him to trust himself more and not to be afraid of failing. Every mistake leads you to where you’re meant to be.”

Just as they think the interview is over, the puppies—now more comfortable and mischievous—cause a delightful chaos. One puppy manages to steal Paul’s sock, prompting a playful chase around the playpen. Y/N, laughing uncontrollably, tries to wrangle two others that have decided her hair is the best chew toy.

“This is a disaster,” Paul says breathlessly, finally retrieving his sock.

“This is heaven,” Y/N counters, sitting cross-legged with two puppies curled up in her lap.

As the crew steps in to gather the puppies, the couple’s reluctance is palpable. “Can we adopt all of them?” Y/N asks, only half-joking.

Paul wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s start with one and see how we manage.”

The interviewer, sensing the perfect closing shot, asks, “Any final words for your fans watching?”

Y/N smiles warmly. “Thank you for all the love and support. And if you ever get the chance to be in a room full of puppies, do it. It’s life-changing.”

Paul adds, “And adopt, don’t shop. These little guys deserve all the love in the world.”

As the couple waves goodbye to the camera, their hands intertwined, the internet collectively swoons. The Puppy Interview has once again proven to be a heart-melting success, but this one might just be the most adorable yet.

[endless-ineffabilities]

Chemical Override (bonus chapter)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: surprise! Something to tide you guys over until the heart-wrencher that is part five!! Y'know, gotta have some laughs before everything blows up 💣 or something like that :)

previous chapter ▪︎ series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

What happens when your castmates decide to have a drinking game based on yours and Ewan's interviews? Chaos. Absolute chaos.

"Is it just me or does my head look abnormally large in this?" comes Tom's query as they sit on the floor around the low table in Phia's living room.

Phia, Tom, and Olivia are snug on the carpet, legs strewn in varying postions, their attention on the laptop on the table.

"No, just you, mate," Phia responds.

"Nah, look at 'im," Olivia counters, "Looking like a right old egghead."

"I knew it," Tom clicks his tongue, smiling at the jab.

The friends were just having a nice time catching up in Phia's apartment, and after several coffees and rolled cigarettes, they found themselves nestled on the floor, beers in hand.

Someone made a suggestion to check up on the interviews being released as part of the media rollout. And so they watched the cast's interviews, already having done with the one from Wired, MTV, and the Buzzfeed Puppy Interview.

"I loved those pups," Olivia remarked jokingly. "But they didn't love me back. Story of my life."

"Oh, I love you, Liv!" Phia had exclaimed, pulling her friend in for a hug.

"Aaanyway," Phia says, reaching forward and scrolling through the suggested videos, "how about this one next! I miss those two." She clicks on an interview you and Ewan had done together, in that long press day where you guys were paired by the media team.

"They look adorable, don't they?" Tom says. "Here's to hoping the lad's finally made a bloody move."

"What about the goss on that girl you all were with? The one at the pub?" Olivia curiously asks, not kept in the loop due to her holiday abroad.

"All bull. You know how the tabloids are. She was sweet and everything but Ewan was practically side-eyeing her all the way into oblivion when she kept clinging on his arm. Poor girl." Tom smirks, the memory still fresh in his mind.

"Awww, look! Ewan's looking at her all gooey-eyed. Even then!" Phia simpers, leaning against Olivia.

"Of course, I was extremely excited and nervous to join the cast for season two," you can be heard saying, "being a huge fan of the book and the first season... I mean, it was such a tall order for me to step into this world but you know - "

"She did it so flawlessly," Ewan says to the interviewer. "We were so lucky to have her join the show."

"Oh, come on," you can't help but blush and shake your head. "Everyone was so welcoming, really."

"Well, it's safe to say that the audience loves your character!" the interviewer says kindly.

"Thank you so much, I'm glad to hear that," you beam in return.

"What a character, indeed," Ewan says, looking at you again.

Tom giggles, swinging his beer, "The look on his face, oh my days! Ewan is whi-ipped, I'm telling you. Just look at those stars in his eyes, you'd think she's an angel or somethin."

"She is an angel," Phia muses.

"Lovely girl," Olivia agrees.

"Oh!" Tom sits upright suddenly, leaning forward on his knees, "How about this? They've got a couple interviews up, right? Drinking game then, shall we? A shot each time Ewan looks at her or pays her a compliment!"

Olivia laughs nervously, but she's more than game to participate. "A swig of beer or... "

"Nah!" Tom scrunches his face in response. "Say, Phi, have you got vodka or tequila or whatever?"

"I... think I've got some leftover tequila," she ponders. "Are you proposing a shot of tequila every time Ewan fawns over her? Isn't that a bit dangerous? Should we stick to beer?"

"It'll be fun," Tom reassures, already getting on his feet to fetch the bottle from the kitchen. "Ewan's a professional," he says, when he returns with tequila and three shot glasses. "Surely he maintained his focus during all of that. Can't be more than - what, three or four shots each?"

Oh, how wrong he is.

It only takes another interview for them to realise that they might have been overzealous in taking on the challenge.

Most Likely To with the cast of House of the Dragon, the screen displays. You and Ewan pop up in intervals, and they eagerly await your clips with shots in hand.

"Most likely to be late on set?" you say, raising your hands when you answer with, "I'm happy to say that it was not me."

"No?" Ewan asks.

"Nope, early each day," you smile at him.

"I believe you, I mean, I wish we actually had scenes together," Ewan says, smiling right back, eyes lingering on you when you add something more to your answer.

"Shot!" Tom exclaims. The trio's faces crunch up when the burning liquid slides down their throats.

"Fuck's sake," Olivia mutters. "Ewan better keep his googly eyes to himself."

"Don't get your hopes up," Phia says, knowing the both of you well.

"Most likely to accidentally date a serial killer? What the hell is this question?" Ewan snorts, eyebrows shooting up.

"Are we even in the right show for this?" you joke, and Ewan laughs harder, his hand finding your forearm and squeezing briefly.

"Shot, I suppose," Phia mumbles. "I mean, look at his face, the sweetheart."

Another round, and everyone feels warmer and more lightheaded.

"Wouldn't be me, I don't know about you?" you ask Ewan.

"Oh, I wouldn't. I don't think Aemond would either, he would see right through that."

"Next, most likely to show up in a stunning outfit," you read from the prompts off-camera.

"Hmm," Ewan muses, "I would say maybe Liv Cooke... she's had really good outfits on the carpet lately..."

"I agree," you nod enthusiastically. "Liv's killing it."

"And you, definitely," Ewan turns to you again. "I mean, stunning would be an understatement."

"Shot!" Olivia half-yells. "And bless her, look! She's turned all red from Ewan's flirting."

"Thanks, mate," you say, tilting your head at him. "You as well! Your stylists have outdone themselves this press tour, for sure."

"Half a shot cause she gives something his way?" Tom suggests, comically shrugging. By the end of the video, the group had done three and a half rounds of shots, all growing redder in the face, their laughter turning unhinged.

"I'm actually scared to do another interview," Olivia groans. "Can those two just shag each other already? Goodness!"

"Who knows? Maybe they have? Would be about time," Tom cheekily says, ever the agent of chaos.

"Ewan did fly out to see her," Phia nods. "They're both in America right now, my darlings."

"Another interview!" Tom gets to clicking, landing on the one you and Ewan did with Rotten Tomatoes.

"We ask everyone this question - can you tell me your favourite movie from this year?" is what the interviewer starts with.

"That's a good question," Ewan says. "Uhhmm, well, it isn't from this year I think but her film - " he gestures to you, " - is one of my all-time favourites. I think it came out late last year, if I'm not mistaken?" He looks to you for confirmation, and your flustered self manages to hum a response. "I just think the whole film was brilliant. It definitely showcases her talents and solidifies her as one to watch."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Tom sighs, and they all bring the shot glasses back to their lips.

"Guys, I might pass out by the end of this." Olivia stands to fetch herself a glass of water. "Ewan's a menace!" she calls out from the kitchen.

"We shouldn't have done this," Tom shakes his head.

"You suggested it!" Phia punches his arm, laughing.

"I guess I underestimated the degree of whipped that Ewan is. That cheeky lad."

Four more rounds of shots later, and the group has their tally up to eight and a half.

Yet another interview plays on the screen, and when Ewan - with all his bloody audacity - pushes a lock of hair away from your face on camera, Tom's eyes nearly bulge right out of his head.

"Oh my god!" he cries out. "He's trying to kill us! I think I'm actually going to puke."

"I quit." Olivia slumps against the base of the velvet couch. "I can't drink any more. Ewan wins."

Phia giggles at the screen, at the sight of her two dear friends slowly but surely falling in love right before the audience's eyes. In some show of celebration, she takes another shot, the last player left in the game.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Meanwhile across the Atlantic...

"Hey, darling," you hear Ewan's voice on the other line. "I just settled in my hotel in New York."

"That's good! Did your flight go well?"

"Mhmm, my meeting's tomorrow afternoon so I've got time to prepare," he takes a breath, before softly saying, "I miss you."

You laugh, "So you keep telling me, Mitchell."

"We're still on that huh, darling? Shouldn't you be calling me something more... personal, by now?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"Well... the internet does call you their babygirl."

"Oh come on," he complains, smiling nevertheless.

"What is it, babygirl?"

"That's how you want to play it, bunny?"

"Ewan!" you groan. "Okay, okay."

"Anyway, darling," he says. "I really do miss you. I can't wait to see you again.'

The longing is clear in his voice and it tugs at your heart so much that you need to pause and collect yourself, before finally saying, "I miss you too, baby."

Cheers to all of yous who voted here! Baby it is ~

In the meantime...

Update! ~ part five

Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @hotdismylife @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @dracaryxzs @aemondwhoresworld @aisselasstuff @onlyrealjoy

[toxicanonymity]

Joel Miller Masterlist - NSFW

and: Javi P., Ezra, Javi G.

Version 2/25/25 (last added: the condom)

Blog FAQ / MAIN MASTERLIST / notifs: @toxicfics / recs: @toxicrecs

📢 You can find my latest fics here, on @toxicfics, or on my profile header by clicking "latest fics."

⚠️ I do not give permission for any of my work to be copied, translated, made into bots, put into AI, etc.

⚠️ 18+ x f!reader unless otherwise noted. Read warnings! Sometimes dark means it has dubcon (DC) or noncon (NC). the NC I write is physically enjoyed by reader. DC can involve a diminished ability to truly consent. Like drugs, captivity, or power imbalance. sometimes it may look like enthusiastic consent.

If you can't decide where to start, Buzzfeed quizzes are at the bottom. They're just for fun but might help lol

🍒 innocent reader | 💤 somnophilia | 👴/🧔‍♂️ explicit age gap | ⭐ fave | subjective ratings: D - darkish | DD - dark | DDD - ultra dark

JOEL MILLER

JOEL MASTERLISTS

AUs, Collections, and Series

POST-OUTBREAK JOEL MASTERLISTS

Raider DD. After making his men spare you, Joel decides to take you for himself. Emotional slow burn, smut all along. Extensive masterlist.

Left in Lincoln (dbf x virgin) 👴🍒 DD Your parents trust Joel to look in on you while they're gone. You yearn to have him carnally.

Aches, thoughts, and needs (4 parts) 👴🍒 you join Joel on his journey to Jackson, and soon there's only one sleeping bag.

Speakeasy (Collection, no plot) - Exhibitionist one shots and drabbles set in a Speakeasy.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE JOEL MASTERLISTS

Night walks 👴 D, DC (drugs). Your hot, sleazy pothead neighbor is a little obsessed.

Slasher Joel DD, DC - You're DTF the sleazy tow truck driver but end up fucking for your life.

Stepdad 🧔‍♂️D You catch him perving on your insta and start toying with him. You seduce him.

Thighs out (bf's dad) - Your bf strays and his hot, slutty dad makes you feel better, much better.

Vampire Joel D, DC - he's been waiting for you for centuries and can't let you go once he finds you.

Jalbird - horny miniseries, Joel "Jojo" miller is your cellmate's nephew. Lots of dirty talk

Silence can never be bought (dbf)👴 You catch him in a compromising position.

Free Use - D, DC, 💤 PWP drabbles where you and Joel have a free use agreement.

JOEL & TOMMY MASTERLIST - "brotherly sharing": various Joel & tommy pairs share (different reader for each pair). Includes Miller Bros. (Daddy Joel & Uncle tommy), Leopard Print, Twin Peaks (Biker AU), and Tommy's Hard Day.

JOEL ONE SHOTS & TWO SHOTS

POST-OUTBREAK JOEL FICS

For Survival - outbreak day (1.4k) - Joel saves your life, but you can't clear your heads until the sexual tension is broken. For Survival 2 - sleeping bag (1.4k) - you have to be quiet.

Lazaretto (NC sex pollen)👴 you're quarantined & treated in a tent, and the fog treatment has a strange effect on Joel PART 2, DC

⭐What you're missing D, NC 💤 you share a sleeping bag with Joel on a hunting trip.

Patrol - pt. 1; virgin patrol 👴🍒 DD, DC creep patrol partner, huddling for warmth

Caught DDD very mean dark Joel catches you, then punishes you more At the table with his crew there. Tommy tucks you in.

Dark mode DDD You activate Joel's dark mode for your own enjoyment. Then Clicking (horny! joel -> dark mode)

The old fashioned way (1k) Joel is a breeder for vaccine research, and he makes it feel good.

Ready 🍒 - Tommy provides emotional and physical support as you lose your virginity to Joel.

Movie night in Jackson, you get frisky under a blanket, surrounded by people.

Virgin sex worker (v loss) D 🍒 - Joel finds out he's your first, and does his best to be gentle.

Secret breeder!Joel Refuses to pull out D - established couple, drabble of their typical sexual encounter

caught masturbating (300) D

Parts - You have a crush on Joel and push him until he gets annoyed. Game Joel.

AU JOEL FICS

⭐ Just the tip 🍒 DC (power imbalance) You're a maid and your client coaxes you into full piv. surveillance (imagine). Just the tip really (pt. 2) 2

Pawn shop (GILF Joel) D - you're in a bind, and Joel has cash.

Canopy - close call with dbf in your old bedroom. pt 2 🧔‍♂️ do you get caught?

That's the spot - you want it harder. Can you get masseur!Joel to cross a line?

Window - peeping Tom jacking off, pt.2 date next door - the tables kinda turn D

Night Talks 🧔‍♂️🍒 D, DC your best friend's dad coaxes you into getting high, and more.

Locket DD, DC - dark!reader has her way with her friend's dad.

Sleeping Beauty 👴💤, CNC break-in.

Packing: butcher!Joel DD, DC (NC?)

Fucking dbf Joel at your dad's house - your dad leaves you two alone, and you make your move.

Breeding couple ; Red Dress - pregnancy. Joel is happy to breed you, and cant keep his hands off your pregnant body.

Personal trainer , and part 2 D, DC - Joel offers to train you in his private gym. He's inappropriate and it makes you horny.

Mean Daddy Joel 🧔‍♂️, a day in the filth

Dark nurse!Joel - sex pollen imagines

Trucker Joel (HCs)

Big fat tally mark (fic event entry) - Joel wears an unneeded cock enhancer

No hard feelings (fic event entry) - 80s AU where you break down on the side of the road

JAVIER PEÑA

NARCOS.

Hunt and peck (2.7k)

THE RAID (DD) - ongoing series, Javi & Steve find you on a dru.g raid and take you with them.

The condom (1k) w/ Steve

The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent

JAVI GUTIERREZ

⭐ Watch you watch him fuck his wife. Nick Cage reluctantly watches your husband Javi fuck you.

The Narrative (D) - you're a PR agent and he's a PR nightmare.

EZRA

PROSPECT.

⭐ The Green - Earthly AU - Ezra performs spoken word at a rave in the catacombs. Ft. a special guest p-boy.

Sleep time (DC): pt. one (250), two 💤(850) D You bait Ezra pt.3 Ezra strikes back.

MAIN MASTERLIST

OTHER FANDOMS

BLOG FUN

READER CREATIONS

See fic masterlists for character-specific reader creations. These are cross-fic posts.

Fun Visuals

Joelkémon cards by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

JOELS AS CATS by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Joel's as cats pt. 2 not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Joelkémon astrology by @wannab-urs

Mood board of joels by @milla-frenchy

joels as texts by @iamasaddie

Lmk if yours is missing. Y'all are so creative and ily!

Buzzfeed Quizzes by @missannfairy & not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Which Joel are you most compatible with?

Which Joel are you?

Which Joel to spend the holidays with?

Compatability: Valentine's Edition

MY ANTICS

@toxicbrothel is a magical place where my characters live when they're not in their fics. you'll find a variety of crack BUT ALSO actual smut I've written ("the madame's secret fics").

[boiohboii]

Starstruck

(Max Verstappen x idol! Reader)

When a video about 2 very famous is leaked, the public expects a specific response due to the nature of these people's jobs, luckily for them- or not- these 2 are just built different

Or

In which a kpop idol is not media trained that well

Requested ✅

N.B: this had been sitting in my drafts for a long ass while tbh, i really loved the idea but struggled to write out yn's character cause I didn't want it to be repetitive or too much, so thank you to @vixxen-lou for helping me out and also a thanks to @mirrorball-6 for helping me come up with how max and yn met (there is another part just for that cause I couldn't fit it in here, sort of like a prologue). HUGE THANK YOU TO BOTH OF YOU, ADORE YOU! ♥️♥️. Also big love to @dark-night-sky-99 and @lifeless-firefly for interacting and willing to help, appreciate it really!💖💖 HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY READING IT!

WARNINGS: NOT PROOF READ, swear words (dick, if I missed anything else lmk), timeline isn't that accurate.

Masterlist

Faceclaim: Jihyo from Twice

youtube: Buzzfeed interview-->stray kids talk about formula 1 and meeting max verstappen

Liked by Twice_official, pierregasly, lilym and 1,728,093 others

Maxverstappen1: what a break.

username: is he trying to soft launch? After whatever tf happened within the past 2 weeks?!?!

Lilym: I can't believe THE YN LN IS A FELLOW WAG!

Twice_official: oh please, you flatter me, I really want to meet you and all the girls, I bet it'll be such a blast! -YN

Lilym: it'd be such an honor omg, marry me? I had a poster of you in my closet

Alex_albon: babe!!!

Lilym: shush, she has always been my celebrity crush

Twice_official: and what a weekend it will be -YN

officialskz: dear fia officials, BE SCARED! RUN FOR THE HILLS -han

username: if I were the fia, I'd listen these boys grew up with her

(Ps: just imagine the elvis suit and it's at night)

[gotta-winwin]

(🎞️) ... hit the road docu.<> after passing this halfway mark

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

word count: 1.3k tw: anxiety, sleep deprivation italics are interviews cut between scenes + english a/n: joshua has my whole heart and soul - enjoy cyana being the maternal figure even though she's the youngest lol

Joshua’s head felt like it was splitting in half. 

“Could you pass me the aspirin?” He asked one of the passing staff, his head throbbing just from the sound of his own voice. It felt like any noise would reverbreate, bouncing around in his skull and crushing his mind. 

He could feel Cyana’s worried eyes on him as he swallowed down the pill. 

“Shua.” She beckoned to him with a wave of her hand, patting the spot next to her. “Come here.” 

He humored her, stumbling over and flopping down onto the couch. Closing his eyes, he bit back a curse. He hated the headaches he’d get whenever he was sleep deprived. 

“My grandmother used to massage my head whenever I got headaches.” Cyana motioned for him to lie down, placing his head gently down in her lap. “My hands are kinda cold, sorry.” 

Joshua closed his eyes and relished the feeling of her hands playing with his hair, traveling down to his temples and rubbing firmly. He let out a deep sigh, the weight that had been beating against his skull lessened. 

From above him, Cyana began to hum, enjoying how peaceful Joshua looked in her lap, the scrunch between his eyebrows disappearing as he relaxed. 

“Sleep, Shua.” She whispered, drawing circles against his temples. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Our American tour was special to me because I was born there. I was excited to see all my friends and family. I wanted them to see how much I had grown up.” Joshua smiled. “So our American tour was extra special.” 

“Who’s most likely to kick someone while sleeping?” 

Cyana raised the headshot of Mingyu, laughing at his betrayed expression. She was surprised that she was enjoying their media promotion run, feeling much more free when answering interview questions in English. 

She knew Joshua felt the exact opposite though. As the oldest English speaking member, it was natural for the responsibility of navigating foreign interviews to fall on his shoulders. 

“I felt a sense of responsibility to carry the team through the questions well.” Joshua explained. “So I would always look through the scripts and questions beforehand, discussing them with Vernon and Nana.”

“How should we answer this one?” Joshua pointed at question 3, the one about TMIs they could give as a group. 

Vernon shrugged. “We haven’t got much TMIs.” 

“Just talk about sleeping a lot during tour. Or that Mingyu and Wonwoo went to a museum yesterday.” Cyana nudged Joshua gently. “It doesn’t have to be anything that interesting.” She giggled at her next thought. “It’s not like we can say ‘Hoshi takes 45 minutes to shit’ on Buzzfeed.” 

From beside her, Vernon gasped for breath as he laughed. Joshua smacked her shoulder, proud of her joke. 

“I see all that media training Coups put you through is paying off.” He commented through spouts of laughter. 

Cyana held her head up highly, proud. “Of course.” 

“We should say that though.” Vernon nudged Joshua. “Right? It’d be funny.” 

“Soonyoung might kill us.” 

“Joshua took most of the questions during our media press tour.” Cyana admitted to the camera, looking a bit regretful. “The rest of them tried their best, but it was just better coming from a fluent speaker. Vernon took some questions too but I-” She paused, looking a bit ashamed. “I was too nervous to do much. I wish I had done more, so Shua wouldn’t have felt so much of the burden.”

Cyana groaned through a mouthful of Chicago pizza, relishing the flavour and texture. “This is amazing.” She spoke to Joshua, her words muffled as she pointed to the large slice in her hands.

He was busy eating his own slice, eyes focused on a tv show playing from his phone. 

She found herself spending most nights with Joshua, as the others preferred to explore the city and host mini parties in their hotel rooms. She’d only return back to her and Dino’s shared room once Dino texted to let her know that the party was over. 

She just preferred quiet nights like this over anything else in the world. 

“Hey!” She protested when Hoshi, appearing out of nowhere, reached over and snuck a bite off her pizza. 

Smiling at her with twinkling eyes, Hoshi merely pinched her cheek in retaliation. “Thanks, Nana. It’s delicious.”

“I know it’s delicious. It’s mine though.” She shielded the rest of her slice from him. “There’s more on the table over there.” 

Wonwoo stepped into the room, moving to stand behind her. “It smells good.” He mused, staring longingly at the slice in her hands. 

A tiny smile crossed her face almost subconsciously, as she lifted her hands and allowed him to take a bite. “It’s good right?”

“Favourtism.” Hoshi grumbled from behind a nodding Wonwoo.

“We’re going outside.” Wonwoo gesutred between him and Hoshi to Cyana. “Do you want to join?”

She shook her head, reaching up to wipe the sauce that had somehow landed itself on his chin. Neither one reacted to the gesture, continuing on as if the intimate contact was just another normal moment. Joshua and Hoshi however, exchanged unmistakable looks of interest. 

“Seventeen is a team that made my dream come true and made my mom proud of me.” Joshua’s eyes shone as he spoke. “Seventeen made me a special person, and since only good things came to me, I’d say Seventeen is a blessing.” 

“You should sleep, Shua.” Cyana chided from her spot on Jeonghan’s bed. Dino’s little gathering with the others was dragging on later than usual and she found herself taking solace with the 95 line. 

Joshua shook his head stubbornly. “I won’t be able to sleep even if I tried.” 

“I think I probably only slept two hours a day that month.” He admitted to the camera, sheepish. “It was hard to sleep when there was so much to worry about.” 

“Listen to Nana.” Jeonghan mumbled from the bed, his eyes already closed. “Go to sleep.” 

“Your mind is whirring too fast when you try to sleep, right?” Cyana asked him, switching suddenly to English. “And it’s like your mind is running on a train track with no brakes.” 

Joshua nodded slowly. The thing that had been ailing him was finally being put into words. 

Cyana hopped from Jeonghan’s bed over to his, crossing over Jeonghan’s body with poise and grace.

“And all you can think about is the past, the future, moments that you’ve forgotten for so long.” Cyana had a faraway look in her eyes as she spoke, sitting down. “And it’s like a whirlpool, sucking you in.”

“That’s right.” Joshua mumbled, watching as she got comfortable against the pillows on his bed. “How do you deal with it? Shut it off.” 

Cyana offered him a small smile that looked more like a grimace. “If I knew I would have told you a long time ago.” She motioned for him to join her, her hands grabbing the air. “We just have to try and sleep. And think about something else.” 

He closed the lights, whispering a quiet goodnight to Jeonghan before sliding into bed. “Like what?”

“I think about you guys.” She admitted in the darkness. “And all the happy and silly moments.” 

“That sounds nice.” 

“Right?” She shuffled a bit, twisting to see his face in the darkness. She could just make out the frame of his face and his doe eyes, staring back at her. “I think there’s something beautiful about drifting off the sleep picturing the ones you love most.”

“I thought you were going back to your room.” He whispered, careful not to disturb Jeonghan. “Didn’t you tell Dino you’d be back?”

“I’ll stay here tonight.” She whispered back. “I’m too lazy to move.” 

Joshua knew that wasn’t the truth. He knew she was staying for him, to make sure he actually fell asleep. He felt his heart clench with strong affection. 

“Thank you.” 

Cyana turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. “Of course.” 

She liked saying that. Of course. Because everything she did for them was guaranteed and granted. There was never a need for any thank yous because of course she’d do anything for them. 

a/n: anxiety and having a mind that runs too fast is actually the worse combination possible.

[captainwans]

── BUZZFEED THIRST TWEETS. ( featuring sebastian stan and anthony mackie, and alex turner at the end! )

▹ pairing: sebastian stan, anthony mackie x fem!actress reader.

▹ summary: what could be a more unhinged and unserious thirst tweets episode with this trio?

▹ warning: vulgar language, mentions of profanities, swearing—but mostly harmless and a good laugh! just pure chaos (ft. alex turner)

marvel masterlist!

arabella series!

“I’M ACTUALLY SO SCARED TO READ THESE.” [Y/N] admitted to the crew members, eyes painted with slight worry as she was sandwiched between Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie. It was yet another movie promotion for the Avengers Infinity War and the actress was finally reunited with her two favorite co-stars, starring in a new episode of Buzzfeed Thirst Tweets.

Sebastian let out a nervous chuckle, agreeing with her. “Gosh, I already regret this.” he sighed, shaking his head as he crossed his arms. He glanced at Anthony, who was holding the blue bucket of thirst tweets from the fans.

Anthony wiggled his eyebrows at the camera, “This is gonna be good.” he said in a serious tone, making [Y/N] quietly giggle, giving the camera a look before watching Anthony reading the first tweet.

“So, this is what we love to do on a Saturday…reading thirst tweet,” Sebastian told the camera, turning his head to his co-stars as Anthony pulled out the first tweet.

Anthony smirked, “On [Y/N]’s comfortable couch!” Sebastian and [Y/N] shake their heads with another laugh. “Get on with it, Mackie!”

Anthony cleared his throat, reading the tweet, “[Y/N] could literally run me over with a tank and I’d say, thank you.” 

The actress burst out laughing, shoulders shaking while Sebastian nodded his head in agreement. “I mean, I’d apologize first, but, I-I appreciate the dedication,” she said to the camera, a small laugh escaping from her lips. 

Sebastian chuckled, “No, I think they would actually thank you,” he told her, grabbing his water bottle and taking a small sip. Anthony turned his head to the actress with a grin, “Right, they’d be like ‘Queen, do it again.’”

[Y/N]’s hands roamed around the bucket, hand clasping at another tweet, this time aimed at Sebastian. She smiled before reading, “Sebastian Stan could punch me in the face and I’d still ask him to marry me.” she read, giving the tweet to Sebastian. “Well, they’re not wrong.”

Anthony shakes his head, “This is why sea bass gets away with anything!” he whined, looking at the camera with a scowl, making Sebastian chuckle, “I mean…you don’t know what you like until you try it.” he cheekily said to the camera, making [Y/N] and Anthony squeal with laughter.

Sebastian muttered a small prayer, picking up another tweet. “Anthony Mackie could talk me into anything. Man could say “jump,” and I’d say–” Sebastian stops mid-sentence and bursts out laughing, making the pair prompt him to continue. “Finish the tweet, Seb.” [Y/N] whined, nudging his side with her elbow.

Anthony sighed impatiently, snatching the paper from Sebastian, who was dying of laughter, almost falling off the couch. “Man could say “jump” and I’d say ‘How high, daddy?’” [Y/N] almost spat out her drink, her throat emitting a small cough, making the crew laugh. “Oh my God!” 

Sebastian was still cackling and he had to lean on [Y/N] for support, who was also a mess. Anthony looked at the camera, a smirk forming his handsome features. “I accept this.”

“This is getting out of hand, guys.” [Y/N] scolded, her face morphing into a deep frown at the camera, referring to their fans with a disappointed look.

She handed the bucket to Anthony, who picked up a tweet. “[Y/N] could bench-press me I’d gladly be her gym equipment.” The crew behind the camera completely lost it, and Anthony got up and walked away, while Sebastian gave the camera a horrified look.

Heat flooded over her cheeks as she laughed, her flustered face looking at the camera while picking up the tweet from the floor. “W-What does that even mean?!” She stuttered, laughter bubbling in her throat.

Sebastian snatched the paper from her hands and showed it to the camera, “It means you need to start charging rent because you’re living in their head rent-free.” he bleated, giving the camera a disapproving look.

“Ok, guys, let’s finish these. We have a few left,” the cameraman said with a chuckle, watching the spectacle in front of him. Anthony came back and sat back down, taking a long sip from his bottle.

[Y/N] picked up a tweet, lips curving upwards. “Anthony Mackie could look at me and I’d get pregnant instantly.” she paused, looking at the camera, “The power,” she said, making Anthony shrug his shoulder with a cocky expression.

“I’ll take that responsibility.” He said, making Sebastian laugh as he picked up a tweet of himself, “Oh God….Sebastian Stan could choke me with his metal arm, and I’d say ‘Harder’” Sebastian read his tweet, immediately standing up and leaving the frame, his voice echoing around the room. “For the love of God!”

Anthony fell down the chair with a loud wheeze while [Y/N] looked concerned, looking around the room and giving the crew members an appalled look. She sighed. “I need therapy after this,” she admitted, putting the bucket on the table.

Sebastian scoffed from off-camera, “No, they need therapy!”

Anthony shook his head, wiping his eyes with his hands before picking up another tweet. “I love this. C’mon, there are still some left,” he said to his co-stars, who exchanged a glance before pulling themselves together.

Anthony gave the next tweet to [Y/N] with a funny look, who looked at the camera with a nervous look. “[Y/N] could step on me and I’d bark.” She read, her chest vibrating from laughter. “Why are you people like this?”

Anthony loudly cackled, his shoulders shaking. Sebastian’s expression turned serious as he looked at the actress, “Woof.” he said, making Anthony laugh harder while [Y/N] pushed him off the couch, screaming with laughter. 

Sebastian chuckled, getting up from the floor while grabbing the bucket. She slapped his hand, still laughing. “S-Stop! I don’t think I can handle this anymore.” she giggled, leaning into Anthony for support.

Sebastian grinned, “Oh, I love this tweet. Alex Turner is the luckiest man alive to get that every damn day. I’d give up my soul to be in his position. That body, that face... I’m sweating just thinking about it." [Y/N] hides her face with her hands, completely flustered while the whole room erupts in laughter and whistles.

Anthony whistled, looking at the person who came into the room. “Speaking of the sun.” he chimed, eyes painted with playfulness as he watched Alex standing at the doorway with a confused look. “What are you guys doing?” he asked the trio as he walked toward them, giving the camera a look.

“Suffering.” [Y/N] answered her husband while fanning herself. 

“Reading thirst tweets. You wanna join, Strumzilla?” Anthony asked him, wiggling his eyebrows at him, making Alex shake his head, deep chuckles emitting from his lips, “No, I–uh, I’m good. I’m just here to pick up my guitar.” he excused, turning to leave, but Sebastian grabbed him by the shirt. 

“Oh, no, Al. You’re in this now,” he told him with a wink, shifting in his seat to make room for Alex to sit. The musician cursed under his breath, reluctantly sitting down.

Anthony gave him a tweet with a funny look, “Read and see what the fans say about your wife,” he jested, making [Y/N] snort, small giggles coming out of her mouth. “Oh gosh, no! He’s not ready for that.”

Alex sighed, adjusting his sunglasses. He licked his lips before reading, “[Y/N] could spit in my coffee, and I’d drink it like it was holy water.” Alex froze, eyes looking at his wife with a disturbed look. 

Anthony and Sebastian shook with laughter, their cackles echoing across the room. “Oh my God!” [Y/N] screams with laughter, slapping her thighs as the whole room died, again. “First of all—” she tried to say, but ended up gasping between giggles, her words lost in a fit of uncontrollable laughter at her husband’s deadpan look.

“That is wild,” Alex exclaimed, gripping the paper and giving the camera crew a genuinely concerned look before giving his wife another look, which made her chuckle with a scowl.

“Why are you looking at me like I wrote it?” she chortled, giggling as she hit his shoulder, making his lips crack a smile. 

The married couple looked at Sebastian and Anthony, who were still howling with laughter. The camera panned to the duo and back to Alex and [Y/N], who looked at them with a chuckle. “Are you guys okay?” Alex asked, watching them regaining their composure. 

“Oh, man. This is the best day of my life.” Anthony chimed, clearing his throat. He gave the camera a look, “Did we finish all of the tweets?” he asked a crew member, who shrugged in response asking if there was any more left.

Sebastian’s hand roamed around the blue bucket, eyes sparking as he picked up the last tweet. He read the paper, a wide grin reaching his handsome features.

He gave it to Alex, who looked at him, dumbfounded. “What a better way to finish this episode,” Sebastian said to the camera, making [Y/N] inch closer to her husband, reading the tweet.

“I already know my tweets are a nightmare,” Alex mumbled, but enough for the whole room to hear as they laughed. He almost choked on air, eyebrows furrowed as he read the tweet loudly. “If I ever get reincarnated, I wanna come back as a chair so Alex Turner can sit on me.” 

[Y/N] laughed, hitting him in the chest. “Honestly, that’s something I would write,” she admitted, making Alex shake his head with a laugh.

Anthony laughed and looked at the camera, “Y’all are nasty!” he turned to Alex, grabbing his shoulder, “Your fans are just as bad as ours.” 💬 … Comments:

@/fanaticforfame: lmao alex looks so disgusted by the thirst tweets 

@/starryobsessed23: nobody mentions the fact that seb calls alex for al MY HEART

@/buckysoldiers: anthony calling alex strumzilla got to be the funniest thing ever

@/turnerflower: ok but alex interacting with the marvel cast was not something that i needed so badly

@/lovelyyn85: they're so unapologetically unhinged and unserious i love them so much

@/arctic-lovers: marvel and arctic monkeys fans unite!

@/scarletswidow: we need a part two with alex!!!!

[midnightsnyx]

beautiful things p1 - mat barzal

my masterlist pairing: mathew barzal x singer!reader summary: mathew barzal has a crush on you but you have no idea who he is until an interview goes viral. warnings: mentions of past toxic relationship, not edited word count: 612 words requested: yes/no author note: this was requested but has potential for a part 2 I think. also I hate using "y/n" but I had no choice lol requests are open!

"Mathew Barzal has a crush on you”, is the first thing you hear when you wake up.

Your head is pounding, probably from your show last night. People don’t usually bother you until you make an appearance but apparently your assistant finds it necessary to wake you.

“Who’s Mathew Barzal?” you ask but before you can finish your sentence, a phone is shoved in your face and you’re looking at a picture of a hockey player.

A very attractive hockey player.

But then, you see the time.

7:29 a.m.

You roll back over and mumble, “my alarm isn’t set until 10.”

Iris plops down next to you. You’re not able to see her, but you can feel her vibrating with excitement. “C’mon, this is Mat Barzal!”

“And?”

“And, he’s like super hot! And he likes you!”

You groan, rolling over to look at her. “How do you know he likes me?”

Once again, a phone is shoved in your face but this time there’s a video playing.

“What kind of music do you usually listen to before a game to pump you up?” A reporter asks Barzal and he blushes and scratches the back of his neck. There’s a pause before he decides on an answer.

“Uh, y/n l/n has pretty sick music out right now so I’ve been listening to her,” he says and from across the room, a voice shouts: “yeah and he has a giant crush on her!”

The video ends and your view is replaced with Iris’s face. She’s practically trembling with excitement and you can’t help but laugh.

“Sounds like you have a crush on him,” you tease and she blushes.

“My ex was an Islanders fan,” she mumbles but then shakes her head. “I can connect with his agent and get his number for you and then-"

"Iris, no," you say, finally sitting up. “I said I wasn’t dating right now. I can’t, not after him.”

You don’t need say his name for the mood to completely darken. Your last relationship nearly ruined you and you’re not ready to open your heart back up to someone when it’s just starting to heal.

Iris nods, not saying anything else. She quietly leaves your room and you flop back on your bed, closing your eyes trying to fall back asleep but it’s useless now. The last thing you want right now is a relationship but you’re a little curious about Mathew Barzal. Your hand reaches out patting around until you find your phone. It’s on do not disturb so when you turn that off, your phone is flooded with notifications. Messages from friends congratulating you on the show, a missed call from your mom - you make a side note to remember to call her back - and finally, you open Instagram and you’re tagged in every single re-post of Mat’s interview. 

Buzzfeed even has an article on it. 

“Huh,” you say outloud to yourself before opening your direct messages and there is one that immediately catches your eye. You hesitate before opening it however because opening it means a lot of things.

It means possibly opening your heart to someone when you feel like it’s just heal. It means the possibility of early morning coffee dates and getting food at 24 hour diners together after your shows or his games. It means long distance sometimes, when you have shows and he has games. The many, many discussions about moving in together before actually doing it. It’s slow mornings together making breakfast, lounging on the sofa when neither of you have anything to do. 

It means the possibility of building something beautiful together.

So, you take the leap and open his message.

barzal97 so about that interview…

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Invisible String

Teen Wolf » Sterek

Title: Invisible String

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Teen Wolf (Masterlist)

Relationship: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: In the aftermath of the nogitsune, Stiles takes up knitting at the suggestion of his therapist, and is surprised to find how much it helps him — and Derek — heal.

"Here's your hat," Stiles says with a half-hearted attempt at nonchalance, opting for playful banter in the hope that it'll ease some of the tension. "I would've finished it sooner, but some asshole snuck in through my window and scared me so bad I dropped half the stitches." He expects a smirk, a sarcastic quip, a long-suffering sigh followed by a theatrical eye-roll in response. What he doesn't expect is the vulnerable quiver in Derek's lower lip as he fixes Stiles with a stunned expression, eyebrows pulled together in a way that makes Stiles's heart physically clench inside his chest, and says, in the softest voice Stiles has ever heard, "You made this for me?" The following evening, Derek shows up wearing the hat Stiles made him, a tightly-wound ball of yarn and a set of knitting needles clutched in his hands as he tentatively holds them out to Stiles like a peace offering, and says, "Teach me?"

Read On AO3 | Read On Tumblr:

In the aftermath of the whole possession by an ancient trickster demon thing, the one thing Stiles doesn't expect to hear from his in-the-know therapist is that he should consider taking up a hobby — something crafty and creative — to occupy his time. He does his best to suppress a snort of laughter but it's a near miss, insisting that he just doesn't have the patience for it. 

Just give it a try, she says, and that's how Stiles begrudgingly finds himself in front of his laptop, scrolling down a Buzzfeed list of the top ten crafts guaranteed to reduce stress and anxiety.

It goes about as well as he'd expected. 

His first (and last) attempt at baking nearly burns down the kitchen. 

Every surface of his bedroom turns into some kind of viral rainbow (no matter where he sits or what he touches, his hands, his hair, and the back of his jeans are always covered) as he proceeds to drip paint everywhere but the canvas. 

Origami ends in a mountain of the saddest looking swans the world has ever seen, crumpled up with varying octaves of frustrated sighs and volleyed into the trash bin with a fist pump and a victorious shout of score one, Stilinski! 

He can't draw for shit, even his stick figures have Scott and Lydia squinting like the worst game of Pictionary. 

He hasn't got a steady enough hand for calligraphy, and more often than not, the pen just ends up stuck between his teeth as he loses himself down a Sporcle rabbit hole. 

All of his short stories end up reading like police reports. 

He nearly impales his thumb on a needle when he tries out his mom's old sewing machine. 

His dad comes home one night with a barrage of complaints from the neighbors claiming there's a cult of angry cats terrorizing the neighborhood when Stiles attempts to learn how to play the cello.

He's about ready to give up when he turns the corner at the local craft store and ends up in an aisle filled with rows upon rows of brightly colored, plushy bundles of yarn. He glances at the display sample of a cozy looking hat, eyes darting to the bright blue wool-acrylic blend of thick, soft yarn right in front of him, and then back up toward the hat, wondering just how difficult it would be to make one of his own. Might be nice with the winter months coming up. 

He dithers for a moment before heaving a resigned sigh and grabbing a skein of the blue yarn, because blue is just pretty, and a set of knitting needles in the recommended size, and brings them up to the register, rationalizing that at least if this endeavor doesn't go well, all he'll be left with is tangled string, novelty chopsticks, and a wallet that's $11 lighter.

• • •

He picks it up surprisingly quickly. One week, a couple of YouTube tutorials, and a series of bookmarked Pinterest tabs detailing beginner projects, and he's already mastered garter, stockinette, and single rib stitch, and has about a dozen swatches scattered across his room. 

Even more surprising is how much he finds he genuinely enjoys it. Likes the fact that it keeps him calm, keeps him grounded. Gives his restless hands something to do, his racing mind something to focus on. Likes the fact that, once he gets the basic beginner stitches down, he can just zone out and get lost in the gentle clicking of the knitting needles, the rhythmic repetition of his hands working to create a new series of interlocking loops, a creative distraction to dive into whenever the guilt and panic of everything that's happened over the last couple of months threatens to overwhelm him.

His first official project is a bunny knit from a single stockinette square, seamed and stuffed with poly-fil, gifted to his therapist as a sort of thank you for pushing him to try something new.

• • •

He finds his gaze drifting toward Derek late one night at a pack meeting, mapping out and lingering over all the worrying little details of his body language — the tense line of his shoulders, eyebrows set in a semi-permanent crease, lips pulled into a pensive frown, fingertips digging into the underside of the worn wooden table hard enough to leave indents — and finds himself wondering if Derek has got any secret stress-reducing hobbies, if maybe he could benefit from having a creative outlet the same way Stiles has been.

He tries to imagine Derek taking up knitting, and has to fight to suppress the fond little flutter that stirs inside his chest at the image of Derek with a half-finished scarf splayed across his lap, yarn wrapped around his stupidly big, strong hands as he works them in an intricate pattern, the two of them sitting side by side on the couch, watching movies and working on projects together; has to bite back a bout of giddy laughter at the idea of Derek talking shop about his favorite stitch patterns, wandering down craft store aisles with a mountain of brightly colored, kitten soft skeins clutched in his arms, arguing the merits of aluminum vs. bamboo, cotton vs. wool, with those big surly eyebrows of his, as Stiles strolls along beside him. It's so absurdly soft and domestic that Stiles can't contain the longing sigh that spills out of his mouth at the thought of it.

Derek's eyes snap up in his direction, narrowing in equal parts curiosity and concern, and Stiles is so fucked because there's no way Derek hadn't heard the little stutter in his heartbeat just now, hadn't caught him staring, open-mouthed and shameless, with this stupid overly fond lovesick expression on his face, when he was supposed to be paying attention to Scott's detailed report of his recent perimeter patrols, and taking notes on the newest potential monster of the week he's apparently responsible for researching. 

And because his body is an absolute traitor, he can feel the telltale prickle of white hot heat creeping up the back of his neck and sprawling across his entire face like a goddamn sunburn, and oh god, there's no way Derek isn't piecing it all together, no way he isn't going to figure it out, no way Stiles will be able to keep his stupid little crush of his a secret if he keeps this up.

He attempts to salvage the moment with what he hopes is a friendly smile and a nonchalant nod, but judging by the way Derek's eyebrows hike high enough to get altitude sickness, it probably comes across as more of a flail and a manic grimace.

Which is just so great.

Yup. Fucking nailed it.

• • •

And yeah, it probably wouldn't help the whole pretending he's not secretly in love with a sourwolf thing if he were to randomly surprise Derek with a handmade knitted hat out of absolutely nowhere, but like — look — the color combination of that super soft merino wool featured every single fleck of Derek's eyes down to the exact shade, which is just…yeah. Super pretty. So like, he couldn't just not get it.

As is Stiles's luck, he can't even keep the hat itself a secret, because a few days after the pack meeting, Derek comes swooping in through his bedroom window while he's right in the middle of a round of decreases, causing him to shriek bloody murder and drop half a row of stitches in the process.

He makes a floundering attempt to shove the half-finished hat underneath his pillow, but of course, Derek's reflexes are faster (motherfucking werewolves) and he snags it out of Stiles's hands before he's even made it halfway across the room, staring down at it intently, running his fingers across the delicate little interlocking arrows, a flicker of a smile threatening to break across his face as he looks up and fixes Stiles with a curious expression.

"New hobby?" he asks, his tone uncharacteristically light, and Stiles prepares himself for the inevitable onslaught of derisive comments and mockery, because apparently he can't just have this one nice thing.

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles sighs with a weary roll of his eyes. "Make fun of me all you want, but we'll see who's laughing when I single-handedly defeat the next big bad with my killer dexterity and refined upper-body strength."

Derek's lips twist into a frown, brows creasing in frustration.

"I'm not making fun of you," he says solemnly, all traces of lighthearted banter vanishing as he takes a tentative step forward and places the set of circular needles into Stiles's hands with a measurable gentleness.

"Oh," Stiles says softly, all defensiveness rushing out of him on the next breath, awed by the fact that Derek looks genuinely offended by the assumption that he would tease Stiles over something like this. "Okay, well…good. Because I'm actually really liking learning how to knit so far."

He holds Derek's gaze long enough to catch a thoughtful hum in response, and then he's stumbling backward into his rolly chair with all the grace of a mountain troll, breathing out a nerve-addled huff as he refocuses his attention on the project clutched in his hands. 

There's a soft creak of leather and bedsprings as Derek perches on the edge of Stiles's bed, watching with rapt interest as Stiles sets to work fixing the dropped stitches, mesmerized by the subtle flex of his forearms, the delicate twist of his long, nimble fingers as Stiles slips the little stitch marker from one needle to the other to start a new row. 

They sink into a companionable silence, the only sound the gentle click of the knitting needles, the steady rise and fall of his focused, meditative breathing, peppered with the occasional murmured mantra of knit one, purl one as Stiles sticks his tongue between his teeth, brow furrowed in concentration as he deciphers what type of stitch he's supposed to make next.

"So, what made you decide to take up knitting?" Derek's voice rings out across the room, head tilted to the side as Stiles produces a thick blunt-tipped needle and begins threading the working yarn through the last few live stitches of the crown.

"Well," Stiles sighs, tension coiling in his shoulders as he struggles to split his concentration. Because this is the most crucial part. Mess this part up and the whole thing unravels. "It started out as a suggestion from my therapist, actually. She figured I needed something— some nice, simple, normal thing — to occupy my time, help take my mind off things…something that isn't just endless research and round-the-clock panic attacks over the supernatural nightmare my life has become ever since—"

There's a sharp intake of breath and a soft, barely audible noise like a wounded animal, and Stiles glances up to find Derek staring a hard line into the floor, looking crestfallen.

"Hey," Stiles says consolingly, offering Derek an apologetic smile, and quickly amending. "Present company excluded, of course."

Derek huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes, but the tension in his shoulders eases considerably.

"So I tried out a bunch of stuff, which I totally sucked at, by the way," Stiles continues, pulling the working yarn taut to close the opening at the top of the hat. "Everything from baking, to painting, to sewing, to trying to learn how to play an instrument — Dad practically had to beg me to return the cello I rented out from the school — before I just kind of accidentally stumbled across knitting…which, it turns out, I'm actually pretty good at."

"I like it," Stiles adds after a moment's pause. "I like that it's both relaxing and productive. I like working with my hands, being able to make things."

"I like…" he trails off, throat suddenly tight as he fights off the familiar sting in the corners of his eyes. "I like the fact that, after everything that's happened, I still have the ability to create beautiful things."

His fingers tremble as he works to weave the yarn tail through the last column of stitches, and he has to pause to catch his breath. He chances a glance over at Derek, and is struck with a low swooping sensation in the pit of his stomach at the sight of him staring down at his open palms with an intense expression on his face, so achingly familiar that Stiles knows, without a shadow of a doubt, what he must be thinking in that moment — that the two of them share something no one else in the pack will ever truly be able to understand— that every time they look down at their own hands, they're seeing the same thing: the sharp skewer of a set of claws; the slow twist of a sword; phantom blood clinging to such delicate things made into weapons against their will.

The finished hat lands in Derek's hands a minute later, effectively snapping him out of his downward spiral. He blinks down at it a few times, looking utterly bewildered, before his gaze flickers back up toward Stiles, eyebrows arched in question.

"Here's your hat," Stiles says with a half-hearted attempt at nonchalance, opting for playful banter in the hope that it'll ease some of the tension. "I would've finished it sooner, but some asshole snuck in through my window and scared me so bad I dropped half the stitches."

He expects a smirk, a sarcastic quip, a long-suffering sigh followed by a theatrical eye-roll in response. What he doesn't expect is the vulnerable quiver in Derek's lower lip as he fixes Stiles with a stunned expression, eyebrows pulled together in a way that makes Stiles's heart physically clench inside his chest, and says, in the softest voice Stiles has ever heard, "You made this for me?"

"Well, yeah," Stiles says as he ducks his head to attack a phantom itch on the back of his neck, heat rising in the hollows of his cheekbones. "It — you know — it matches your eyes, or whatever."

Derek stares at him for a moment longer before his gaze drifts back down to the little hat woven with all the colors of the forest, cradling it in his hands like it's the most precious thing in the world.

• • •

The following evening, Derek shows up wearing the hat Stiles made him, a tightly-wound ball of yarn and a set of knitting needles clutched in his hands as he tentatively holds them out to Stiles like a peace offering, and says, "Teach me?"

And yeah, maybe Stiles's heart does that same little flutter on a much grander scale when, several months down the line, the two of them exchange Christmas gifts, only to realize they've knitted each other matching scarves.

[lorarri]

★ . . . 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 , 𝐋𝐍𝟒

summary , lando goes on buzzfeed to read thirst tweets about him? no more like about his amazing girlfriend and their sex life

pairing , lando norris x fem! gf! reader

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BUZZFEED → LANDO NORRIS READS THIRST TWEETS