#genuine flattery and smile 10/10

[frostdayz]

Bed

Loki x reader

genre: Fluff

summary: You and loki tangled in each others arms and words while laying in bed.

note: Such a shit summary but this is just something small and loki themed because I recently read a long ass fic on ao3 that was a 10/10

my stories never really describe the readers gender so unless stated otherwise all my stories are gn!!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I blinked my eyes open, slowly adjusting to the brightness. For a moment, I forgot where I was, but then I felt it—the warmth, the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath my cheek. I was curled up against Loki, our legs tangled together under the blankets.

I smiled to myself, savoring the rare moment of peace. Loki wasn’t exactly a morning person, and I had a feeling he was still asleep. Gently, I lifted my head to get a better look at him. His dark hair was tousled, a few strands falling across his forehead, and his face was relaxed, almost boyish in its softness. It was a side of him that few ever got to see.

Unable to resist, I reached up and brushed the stray hair away from his face. My fingers lingered, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his cheek. He stirred slightly, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Mm, what are you doing?” His voice was thick with sleep, and I couldn’t help but smile at how endearing it sounded.

“Just admiring the view,” I teased, resting my hand on his chest.

He opened one eye, peering at me with a mixture of amusement and mock annoyance. “You’re awfully chipper this morning,” he remarked, his lips quirking into a smirk.

“Maybe it’s because I woke up next to you,” I replied, unable to keep the affection out of my voice.

Loki’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, and he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer. “Flattery will get you everywhere, darling,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I let out a contented sigh, snuggling against him. “We should do this more often. Just…stay in bed, with no worries, no responsibilities. Just us.”

He hummed in agreement, his fingers lazily drawing patterns on my back. “That sounds like a perfect way to spend the day,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “But you know as well as I do that our lives are rarely that simple.”

I pouted, though I knew he was right. “Can’t we pretend, just for a little while?”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “For you, my love, I’ll pretend all day if you wish.”

I grinned, my heart swelling with warmth at his words. “Then let’s stay here forever,” I declared, burrowing deeper into his embrace.

Loki tightened his hold on me, resting his chin on top of my head. “As you wish,” he whispered, his voice filled with a tenderness that made my heart skip a beat.

We lay there in comfortable silence, the world outside our little cocoon of warmth and love feeling miles away. It was a rare and precious moment, one that I wanted to hold onto for as long as I could. In Loki’s arms, everything felt right. The worries and challenges of the world could wait. For now, all that mattered was this—just him and me, wrapped up in each other, in the quiet beauty of the morning.

“I love you,” I whispered, the words flowing from my heart without hesitation.

He tilted my chin up, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that took my breath away. “And I love you,” he replied, his voice soft but unwavering.

He leaned down, capturing my lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of all the things words could never fully express—a promise, a reassurance, a shared truth. When we finally pulled apart, I rested my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us.

“Let’s stay like this a little longer,” I murmured.

“Forever,” he agreed.

[highvern]

Teach Me II

or private tutoring

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader

Genre: smut, humor, college au, frat!svt

Warnings: inexperience!dk, experienced!reader, mentions of previous drug use (weed) , oral (m. & f. receiving), cum swallowing, spitting, fingering, making out, strength kink bc he's hot, minor overstim at the end but he's just enthusiastic, fwb, this chapter is pure smut, spreading my DK is a munch agenda

Length: ~3.5k

Note: literally a doozy to write but its done, I have part 3-5 outlined so hopefully they go quicker, lemme know what yall think!

read more here

Tuesday Night Approx. 10:02 PM, DK’s bedroom

Dokyeom has come to the conclusion he’s hallucinating. The hot wet suckle of your mouth against the head of his cock, one hand jerking him in time with the motions of your head while the other gently cups his balls is just too good to be true. The view he’s witnessing is even more proof he’s gone certifiably insane. 

You’re knelt between his spread legs at the edge of the bed, shoulders framed by his knees. At some point Dokyeom fell back on his elbows, granting you as much room as possible to do whatever you want as he stares down his body at you. The rhythmic bobbing of your head hypnotizes him, forcing him to fight demons against the urge to wrap a hand in your hair so he has a better view of your mouth working his cock. He thanks himself for having the foresight to at least ask you to take your top off this time, allowing him the pleasure to view the long muscles along your spine flexing, only obstructed by the band of your bra.

You’re the goddess of his dick and Dokyeom is an avid worshiper.

The first and only time he received head involved too much weed (both of them), teeth (hers), and tears (his) for him to enjoy any of it. It had been so unpleasurable he had avoided doing anything since in fear of repeating the experience. 

You, however, make him regret not finding you on campus sooner. The genuine enthusiasm and enjoyment that radiates off you as you play with him has an orgasm tumbling towards him faster than he wants. When Dokyeom tries to inform you, hoping you’ll find a way to help him hold off, gasping your name and a broken “I’m gonna;” you respond with a delighted hum and work him harder.

“Holy shiii—,” he whines as you give a particularly harsh suck as he slides further in your mouth, tip nudging the back of your throat softly. A moan of your own shooting pleasurable snaps down his wrecked nerves.

He’s done for when your eyes peek open and find his.

Every muscle in his body clenches, his hips bucking up into your mouth despite his effort to remain grounded. Ears filled with the sound of his blood rushing, eyes squeezed tight. He knows he’s blabbering whatever praises have sat on the tip of his tongue since you started between deep desperate groans, but Dokyeom can’t hear a single thing. All he can focus on is how his cum shoots into your waiting mouth as you continue pumping him till his balls are empty.

You swallow his load with ease, popping off his dick to allow your tongue to dart and catch the dribble at the corner of your lips. If that’s how good it's gonna be everytime, Dokyeom is afraid he might fall in love with you from a simple blowjob.

“Good?” You ask with a cheeriness that seems a little out of place given that you’ve sucked his soul out.

Dokyeom’s brain function borders non-existent so he just grunts an affirmation from where he’s crashed on the sheets of his bed, tossing an arm over his eyes as he comes back to earth.

Your giggling has him cracking open his eyes lazily to find you resting your chin on his muscular thigh, smile wide, dangerously close to his softened cock.

“Are you the dick whisperer or?” 

More giggles answer him. You think it's cute how clearly spent he is, not bothering to hide how you affect him, no bullshit bravado some other guys try to pull. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” You coo.

“Well that was the best blowjob I’ve ever had.”

“My only competition is a girl from two years ago, but I’ll take it.”

You hop up next to him on the bed, lying parallel to his body as a comfortable silence settles between you. His eyes follow the steady rise and fall of your chest, gaze locked on how your boobs push against the thin fabric of your bra. Dokyeom just makes out the edges on what must be your stiff nipples poking through the cup. It makes him salivate.

“Can I try?” 

“Try what?” You ask, turning your head to look at his face.

Dokyeom rolls over, propping himself up on an elbow to loom over you. His nose traces your jaw, unable to keep his hand from moving across the plane of your belly, thumb burning against bare skin as it dips below the elastic waistband of your leggings.

“Wanna eat you out.” 

The gentle kiss he places under your ear is answered with stuttering breath and a subtle nod.

“Should I,” he swallows thickly. “How should I start?”

“Kissing is good.”

His lips leave a trail of gentle pecks across your cheek to your mouth. When your mouths meet, twin sighs leave your noses. You weren’t lying to him when you told him he was a good kisser. 

The hand that was tracing the hollow of your hip moves up to your jaw, caressing your cheek and allowing Dokyeom to move your head where he wants it. He tilts your chin up, dragging the tip of his tongue against your plush lower lip. Your mouth opens slightly, allowing wet muscles to meet tentatively. 

The vibration of your moan against his lips has his head dipping away.

“Good?”

You mutter a breathless “yes” into his mouth, missing his touch immediately. Your hands plant on the sides of his face, dragging him back in.

You both continue lazily, content in the way your lips meet and hands memorize the other's features. But Dokyeom longs to learn the ins and outs of your body, hoping he can make you feel at least a fraction of the pleasure you've gifted him twice now.

When he tries to disconnect your lips this time, you chase him. Pulling him back in with a maddening drag of teeth, followed by the dull sting of your nails against his shoulder. Your free hand moves his from your jaw down to your chest, giving him an encouraging squeeze to start playing with you.

Hesitating, his large palm gently fondles your breast, thumbing the edge of the lacy fabric hiding you from view. He isn’t doing much other than letting the weight of it settle in his hand. When you break away your gaze to watch his reaction, Dokyeom’s face is set in determination.

“You can do more.”

At your permission he gives a gentle squeeze, it’s sweet but not what you need. 

“Like this.”

Gently brushing him away, you flip the cup of your bra down to expose yourself to the chill of the air. Dokyeom eyes follow with rapt attention, hypnotized by the swell of your chest and the contrasting skin. He stares as you grab his hand again, moving it back to cup your breast. From the gaps between his fingers, ribbons of your flesh are still visible. When the calloused side of his thumb rolls across your nipple this time, you shudder.

“If you want,” you gasp, “you can use your mouth.”

That was all he needed to dive for your chest. Immediately opening his mouth to cover your areola, sucking with too much enthusiasm.

“Wait!” You wince, shoulders caving inward at the zap of discomfort.

Dokyeom jumps back like he’s burnt, terrified expression blooming on his features. 

“It’s okay! But you need to build up to it, ya know?”

“Like how?” 

“Kiss my neck, keep using your hands. But make me want it first and it’ll feel a lot better.”

“Make you…want it? But can’t I just give it to you?”

“Think of it like…” you rack your brain, but when the flex of his biceps catch your eye you continue. “when you workout! You need to warm up first or you’ll get hurt, right?”

“Yeah?” he questions, still unsure.

“So you gotta warm me up first. Just start gently and then… you can get a little rougher.”

“Okay, okay.” He mutters to himself. “Gentle then rough, make you want it. Got it.”

He moves his face back to your chest, rubbing his lips across the smooth skin at the hollow of your throat. Letting his tongue dip out, Dokyeom etches a scorching path along the dips and curves of your chest. He tentatively covers your bare breast with his hand again, squeezing gently while his thumb catches your sensitive nub.

“Much better,” you sigh dreamily, entranced by the featherlight touches he’s teasing along your skin.

“Can I take your bra off?” 

His question is barely intelligible since he mutters it into your skin, around his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Without a word, you arch up and move your hands behind your back. One day he’ll insist you teach him to take it off himself but right now he zeros in on the way you’re pushing into his mouth as the fabric falls limp around your chest, exposing more soft skin for him to explore. You shuck the offending garment off your body, and toss it over the side of his bed. 

Completely bare from the waist up under him, Dokyeom props himself up to catalog the masterpiece that is you. Hair spread across his sheets beneath you, a few rogue tendrils twist below your chin and tickle your neck. Eyes hooded lowly, pupils blown wide. There's a faint blush spreading across your cheeks and down your front, making your skin glow mesmerizingly; and your lips, bruised and swollen, are parted around your shallow pants. 

Yeah, he can definitely get used to seeing you like this.

“What?”

“You’re just… wow.”

“Wow?”

“You’re half naked in my bed after destroying my dick, please be nice to me.”

You respond with a shy smile as you drag him back in. He leaves more kisses across your face and down your chin before getting back to work.

Experimenting, Dokyeom finds your tit. His teeth graze against the puckered bud sucked into his mouth, nipping it gently before laving his tongue across the sore flesh soothingly. He’s rewarded with an agonizing grind of your hips against his thigh, savoring the scalding heat of your pussy through the thin fabric separating you. 

“Again.” You tell him.

So he does.

He memorizes every dreamy sigh, satisfied moan, and sobbed hiccup released from your mouth. He also memorizes exactly what he does to deserve them. You like when he darts the tip of his tongue out to guide himself from one area to the next. Huffing when he blows a cool stream of air on the wet trail, giving rise to a litter of goosebumps. If he scratches his teeth on the more sensitive skin of your nipples or underside of your breast, you’ll hiss a sharp breath and twist your fist in the sheets beside you, back arching for more. If he plays with both of your nipples simultaneously, engulfing one between his lips and lapping with his tongue while his hand pinches and pulls the other, you’ll tremble in his hold and cry his name hoarsely.

He really likes that one. 

“Good?”

You’d think he was teasing if it wasn’t for the trickle of insecurity that seeps into his voice. 

“Great,” you praise, eyes shut against the pleasure you’re receiving. “You should take my pants off.”

“Really?”

“Want you to see how wet you made me.”

He chokes on his own saliva, coughing against you.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes are watering and his face is red as he catches his breath. 

“Oh my god!” Your eyes go wide with worry.

When he finally calms himself, he pins you with a stern look.

“You can’t just,” he huffs. “say stuff like that.”

“Like what? That you’re making me horny?”

“Exactly like that! God, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“So you don’t wanna hear how much I want you to fuck me?” You whisper in his ear, lips dragging against the sensitive shell of his ear.

“No,” he swallows, your words decimating his brain and all common sense. “I do, I just, fuck.”

The last word he groans in response to you stuffing his hand between your spread thighs. The crotch of your leggings are soaked, clinging to the lips of your pussy thanks to your previous movement against his leg.

“Can you feel it?” You pant in his ear. “How wet I am for you?” 

The dirty words strike a cord. He did this; his kisses and caresses teased so much of your arousal of you that it’s leaking through your panties, past your leggings to soak his fingers.

Eyes drifting shut to focus on the slick coating his palm, Dokyeom lets his hand dip lower to push against where he thinks your clit is. The pads of his finger ghosting a tight circle of the digit at the top of your mound. His chest threatens to burst with pride when your hips stutter into his palm.

“Please,” you whimper.

It breaks his heart to remove his hand but he aims to make up for it by stripping off your pants in a rush. Dokyeom nearly rips the material apart when it catches around your thighs but he uses his strength to lift your hips, pushing them down your legs and off you like he has a personal vendetta against them. Your underwear comes off as well, tossed over his shoulder next to your forgotten bra and shirt.

Dokyeom lies between your splayed legs, chest flat with the bed as his hands hook under your knees and push your legs up to spread you before him. Your inner thighs are glistening, smeared with your own arousal that leaks from your cunt, lips swollen and flushed, clit peeking out from under your mound. A wet spot darkens the fabric of his sheets below you, increasing in size as your entrance squeezes around nothing. His nose is full of your heady scent, mouth watering for a taste.

He dives in while his brain sings his new life motto: gentle then rough, make you want it. Gentle then rough, make you want it.

Using his knowledge of what worked well on your chest, he blows a cool breath against your hot center. Dokyeom watches as you mewl above him, head falling back as your spine arches. Barely there kisses tease the sensitive skin of your thigh next to his head, punctuated by sharp nips of teeth leaving bruises blooming bright red in their path.

Dropping his hands from your knees but leaving your legs on his shoulder, he uses his thumbs to spread you apart, granting him unobstructed access to your most sensitive parts. He feels like a pervert; a voyeur, staring in awe at the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen. He knows he’s only seen one in real life (yours) but no one else’s will ever compare. 

Once Dokyeom has taken his fill, and you’re at your wits end above him, he uses the tip of his tongue to score a path from your dripping hole to your clit; moaning at the taste covering his tongue.

“More!” you whine from above, voice thick want.

“You said to make you want it.” He rasps, face still buried between your legs, mapping every ridge and dip.

“I do!”

“Let me play with it.” 

Dokyeom signs his requests with a firm lick to your clit against the flat of his tongue.

“Ahh!” You croak, convulsing from the sudden simulation. One hand flying to his hair to keep him in place.

Dokyeom is all too happy to continue, lapping indecently at your pussy. In his opinion, feeling your essence coat his chin and cheeks as he works you is almost as satisfying as having his cock in your mouth. Seeing you get off above him clicks why you were so enthusiastic when the roles were reversed. He could live and die eating your pussy without complaint.

The rush of pleasure has your thighs attempting to crush his skull. When he pulls your legs apart brutishly you arch again, turned on at the thought of him using his muscles to pin you down and leave you at his mercy. He folds you in half easily, hands pushing the back of your thighs up and out his way.

Since his hands are occupied with pinning your legs in place, one of you attempts to assist him. The hand not fisted in his hair shoots to your pussy, spreading your lips for him and directing him to your clit. Dokyeom doesn’t hesitate to tease your nub framed between your fingers. The occasional brush of his drenched lips or pointed tongue against your hand makes your head fuzzy.

Dokyeom feels you snatch one of his hands away from your leg, pulling it to your face. You suck two of his slender fingers into your mouth, moaning when they press down on your tongue causing you to drool around them. Dokyeom opens his eyes to gape at the vulgar display, hips twitching against the bed when your eyes meet his.

Holy shit.

He’s torn between wanting to stretch you open around the digits you're currently lapping at and letting you continue, imagining it's his cock between your lips. Fortunately for you he doesn’t ponder his choice for too long. Pulling his hand away, his eyes stay trained on yours as he reaches under his own chin to circle your hole. The mix of saliva and the juices of your pussy let him slide in easy enough, silky inner muscles eager to pull him deeper. 

“Spit on it,” you beg, eyes glassy.

He swallows harshly. If he was capable of any thought other than how sexy you are, he’d kick himself for how he let your first time together play out. Virginity be damned, he could have cum from this alone.

Dokyeom is more than willing to give you whatever you desire so he pulls away just enough to spit harshly on your clit, watching the bead race to where his fingers spread you, allowing it to disappear inside the rim of your entrance as he pumps his arm. He fumbles to reattach his mouth to your clit, lashing against the nerves as he stuffs you full; desperate to have you come on his face.

You're a moaning mess above him, hair matted to your sweaty forehead, hands threatening to rip the sheets apart as you fist them. 

“Give me another one,” you instruct, immediately granted your wish.

All you can do is gawk at Dokyeom below you as he brings you to your end with embarrassing speed. Every muscle in your body is pulled taunt, threatening to break any second as tears fill your vision. Your orgasm right there but just out of reach. But when you catch the way Dokyeom is humping against the bed, you snap. You don’t care that his roommate might still be home as you throw your head back with a sob, tears spilling down your face as endorphins blaze through your veins. Your mind is incinerated, vision filled fuzzy with fireworks. You can’t breathe as you gush into his mouth, thighs locked around his head and threatening to suffocate him.

To his credit, Dokyeom doesn’t stop despite the way you thrash below his mouth. If anything, his efforts increase, only encouraged by your shaky moans and shaker thighs. He snags both your ankles in one palm, stretching your legs up and over his head as far as can before pushing them back into your chest to twist you in a V. You get impossible tighter with the shift as he continues to stuff your clenching entrance while he licks your clit, a mess of spit and arousal pooling between your cheeks. You have to pull him away by his hair, interrupted several times by him diving back in to suck up your juices, fingers pushing more and more out of you to drip down his wrist. When you whine and tell him it's too much he finally relents with a gentle kiss and one last thrust before releasing your legs and resting his cheek on your thigh.

You both lay there in silence, panting against one another. Dokyeom kisses back up to your face, dropping sweet pecks to the tops of your thighs, across your hip bones to your belly button where he lets his nose trace up to your sternum and finally to your chin. When you open your eyes you find him staring at you sleepily.

“Hi,” he says, voice thick.

“Hi,” you smile.

He dips to press one last kiss to your lips before pulling you into his arms, pillowing your head on his bicep and brushing his other hand through your tangled hair. He ignores the way his sticky cock throbs against his leg, focusing on caring for you rather than himself.

“Good?” He mumbles against your forehead, lips resting on your hairline.

“I think you’re lying about never having done that before.”

“Scouts honor, you’re the first.”

“Honored. Glad our first tutoring session was so successful.”

First? He thinks. 

“There’ll be more?”

“Well, yeah,” you whisper, suddenly bashful in case he’s no longer interested.

“Sweeeeeet!” he whoops.

You roll your eyes at his boyish response but feel yourself smile anyway. If he can learn to fuck you as well as he eats you out then you’re in for a ride.

[skipthegamesofficial]

10 seduction tips to win her over

Seduction is an art that combines subtlety, confidence, and charm. If you want to captivate a woman’s heart, you need to strike the perfect balance between being assertive and respectful. Here are ten tips to help you master the art of seduction:

1. Cultivate Genuine Interest

To truly seduce a woman, show a sincere interest in her as a person. Engage in meaningful conversations, listen actively, and remember details about her life. Genuine interest is attractive and makes her feel valued.

2. Maintain Confident Body Language

Your body language speaks volumes. Stand tall, maintain eye contact, and offer a confident smile. Your posture should exude self-assurance without appearing arrogant. Confidence is inherently seductive.

3. Use Eye Contact Effectively

Eye contact can be incredibly powerful. Hold her gaze slightly longer than usual, then look away and back again. This creates a sense of intimacy and intrigue. Remember, it’s about connecting, not staring.

4. Employ Gentle Touch

Physical touch, when used appropriately, can create a deeper connection. Lightly touch her arm during conversation or guide her gently through a crowd. Ensure the touch is respectful and consensual.

5. Be Humorous

A good sense of humor can break the ice and create a bond. Make her laugh with light-hearted jokes and playful teasing. Avoid humor that might offend or belittle others.

6. Compliment Her Subtly

Compliments are essential but should be sincere and subtle. Instead of over-the-top flattery, focus on specific qualities you genuinely appreciate, such as her intellect, style, or kindness. Subtlety makes compliments more meaningful.

7. Be Mysterious

Maintain an air of mystery by not revealing everything about yourself too soon. Share intriguing stories and experiences gradually. This keeps her curious and interested in knowing more about you.

8. Show Kindness and Respect

Kindness and respect are crucial in seduction. Treat her with utmost respect, showing consideration for her feelings and opinions. Acts of kindness, such as holding the door open or offering your jacket, go a long way.

9. Create Memorable Experiences

Plan unique and memorable dates that stand out. It could be a spontaneous picnic, a visit to an art gallery, or a walk under the stars. Memorable experiences create lasting impressions and strengthen your bond.

10. Be Patient and Persistent

Seduction is a process that requires patience and persistence. Don’t rush or pressure her into anything. Allow the relationship to develop naturally and give her space when needed. Persistence, coupled with respect, is key.

Conclusion

Mastering the art of seduction involves a blend of confidence, genuine interest, and respect. By following these ten tips, you can create a strong connection and captivate the woman you desire. Remember, the goal is not just to seduce but to build a meaningful and lasting relationship.

[ausetkmt]

10 definite signs you're dealing with a fake nice person - The Expert Editor

Ever met someone who seems super nice, but something just doesn’t feel right?

Trust that gut feeling! Not everyone who smiles is truly friendly.

Here’s a quick rundown on how to spot those who might be pretending a bit too hard.

Let’s dive in!

1. Over-the-Top Compliments

We all enjoy a little flattery now and then, right?

But there’s a difference between genuine praise and excessive buttering up.

If someone is constantly showering you with over-the-top compliments, especially about trivial things, it might be a sign they’re not being entirely sincere.

Genuine compliments come from the heart and feel authentic, while “fake nice” people tend to use them as a tactic to win you over.

So, if you find yourself thinking, “Okay, is my pen choice really that amazing?”—chances are, you’re dealing with someone who’s laying it on thick.

2. They’re All Ears… But Only When Others Are Watching

Ever noticed someone who’s super attentive to you in a group setting but barely gives you the time of day in private?

Beware of this chameleon act. People genuinely interested in what you have to say will listen whether there’s an audience or not.

“Fake nice” individuals often play up their attentive side when they know it’ll earn them social points.

But when there’s no one around to impress?

Suddenly, your stories and concerns might not seem so captivating to them.

Trust your gut: a truly kind person values your words, not the potential audience they might bring.

3. They Never Disagree… About Anything

At first glance, someone who never disagrees with you might seem like a dream come true.

“Finally, someone who gets me completely!” you might think.

But wait a minute. Is it realistically possible for two individuals to see eye-to-eye on everything?

A “fake nice” person often avoids disagreements not because they genuinely align with your every thought, but because they want to avoid potential conflict or keep up appearances.

Someone who’s genuine will constructively challenge your views now and then because they care about true connection and growth.

Remember: real friends aren’t “yes-men.” They’re the ones who aren’t afraid to lovingly call you out and engage in meaningful debates.

4. Their Stories Keep Changing

Ever heard the saying, “It’s hard to keep track of lies”?

A classic sign of a “fake nice” person is inconsistency in their narratives.

Today, they might mention how they’re allergic to cats, but next week they reminisce about their childhood pet cat named Whiskers.

Genuine people are consistent because they share their true experiences and feelings.

If you start to notice that the tales they tell seem to shift with the wind, it might be a red flag that they’re molding their stories to fit the moment, rather than being honest with you.

5. They Have a Surprising Number of “Ex-Best Friends”

Did you know that, according to psychologists, the average person can maintain only about 5 close relationships at a time?

Yet, if you encounter someone who constantly talks about their countless “ex-best friends,” it’s time to raise an eyebrow.

While it’s natural for friendships to evolve or end over time, a never-ending list of past close companions might indicate that this person struggles to maintain genuine, long-term relationships.

It’s essential to ask: Why did so many supposedly deep bonds end? Are they the common denominator in these failed connections?

6. They’re Quick to Share Others’ Secrets

Ever been in a casual conversation and suddenly you’re hit with, “Don’t tell anyone, but…”?

A genuine person values trust and understands the importance of confidentiality, especially when friends confide in them.

If someone is quick to spill the beans about others, there’s a good chance they might be doing the same with your secrets.

Sharing confidential information not only breaks trust but can also be a tactic to gain attention or favor.

Remember, if they’re gossiping to you, they’re probably gossiping about you.

7. Their Kindness Comes with Strings Attached

Real kindness is given freely, without expecting something in return.

But with a “fake nice” person, there’s often a hidden cost to their generosity.

Perhaps they offered to help you move, but now they constantly remind you of that favor whenever they need something.

Or maybe they bought you a gift and later held it over your head during an argument.

Genuine people help because they want to, not because they’re setting up a future debt.

If every act of kindness feels like a transaction, it might be time to reevaluate the authenticity of the relationship.

8. Their Empathy Feels Forced

Empathy – the ability to understand and share the feelings of another – is a natural human trait.

But with “fake nice” individuals, their attempts at empathy often feel staged or insincere.

You might share a personal story or hardship, only to find their response feels rehearsed or detached, like they’re reciting a line from a script rather than genuinely connecting with your emotions.

While it’s true that not everyone is great at expressing empathy, there’s a difference between someone struggling to find the right words and someone who’s simply putting on a performance.

9. They’re Almost Too Perfect

Now, this might sound a bit odd at first, but bear with me. Everyone has flaws—it’s a fundamental part of being human.

If you meet someone who seems to have the perfect response, the perfect outfit, the perfect story for every occasion, and never a hair out of place, it might be worth a second thought.

Authentic people make mistakes, have awkward moments, and occasionally put their foot in their mouth.

They’re relatable because they’re real.

A “fake nice” person, on the other hand, might obsessively curate their image to avoid appearing vulnerable or imperfect.

Life isn’t a perfectly scripted movie, and if someone feels like a character too good to be true, they just might be.

10. They Fade Away During Tough Times

Life isn’t always sunshine and rainbows. We all face challenges, and during those tough times, true friends stand by our side.

However, a “fake nice” person might be conspicuously absent when the going gets rough.

While they’re front and center during the good times, parties, and celebrations, they seem to vanish when you need a shoulder to lean on or a helping hand.

Authentic people show up, even when it’s inconvenient or there’s nothing in it for them.

If someone is only around during the sunny days and disappears during the storms, it’s a telling sign of where their intentions truly lie.

[bunny-carrothunter]

GIF request:

that one clip when Tobey said "I'd be D E L I G H T E D" with hearts in his eyes-

and then he hugged WordGirl-

gives me life everytime

Gave myself the liberty of making a few more. Very much appreciate the positive reaction to him defending her<3

[ionlylikemycat]

how long does it take zuko to convince his staff that he isn’t gonna slap, punch, beat, banish, or otherwise assault them?

that they aren’t about to lose their job (or life) over a spilled cup or broken vase?

that he’s not trying to trick them when he says they can relax the ornate and complex flattery each time they leave the room?

that he means it when he bans corporal punishment in the palace (and out of it) and that they really can come to him if someone forgets that rule?

that they haven’t upset him or wronged him when he asks to take his meal without the full serving staff of twenty watching him?

zuko is sensitive, even when he tries not to be, and watching these people be so afraid of him would break his heart. but that also means we gets to see it when they begin to open up to him.

firelord zuko who’s feeding the turtleduks when a toddler comes running over. she almost topples into the water but zuko sweeps her up before she’s in any danger. he holds her in his lap and shows her how to feed them gently. when the mother comes careening out screaming for her child she stops short at the sight of zuko and collapses into a bow, head to the floor. she begs forgiveness but zuko shakes his head, and offers his hand for her to stand. he hands over her daughter, asks the girl’s name. his guard calls him back into meetings so he leaves with a smile and a bow to both of them. it’s the first time a child hasn’t been afraid of zuko here in the fire nation, and he smiles all week

firelord zuko who spends months trying to win over the kitchen staff enough the let him make his own tea. they refuse at first (as much as one is allowed to) and stand on principle. but zuko is patient, so patient, so he begins to visit the kitchens once a week. he tells the head chef he’s going to come, it’s not a surprise. and he just thanks the staff, asks their names, maybe mentions an earth nation dish he had that’s native to a region who’s dignitaries are coming. once he’s been a few times he asks about their lives. simple things, never much more than yes or no answers; he doesn’t want to force them into speaking more than they’re comfortable just because he is their firelord. but 10 months in, and he finally convinces the guards, tasters, and head chef he can make his own tea. the head chef still insists on checking the tea as it comes in (special shipment from the jasmine dragon of course) because he’s been working in the palace for a long time and he’s seen many leaders but zuko is the first firelord he’s actually wanted to serve. and he’s seen this 18 year old kid trying so damn hard to help the palace and nation heal, tying so hard to win favor with his dishwashers, that he wants to keep safe. he may not prepare the tea, but not a leaf gets to the firelord that isn’t personally checked by him.

and in a couple years, the permeating sense of fear and dread begins to leech out of the palace. maybe the maids start humming in the corridors, maybe the washer women laugh and talk as they go about their business, maybe the royal dressers don’t flinch at the scars all across their young leaders skin anymore

maybe the country is being run by a smart, kind, genuine young man who works tirelessly to restore their honor as people of the fire nation. zuko brings music, art, poetry, dancing and life back to the fire nation. he teaches the wisdom he learned from the sun warriors and old masters: fire isn’t just hate and death. it can be life, light, a sun blazing inside you and he fosters that light in his people. so they can shed the last 100 years of hatred together and foster a new nation of peace

[laurenairay]

Number 8 from the prompt list for Nico Hischier, please and thank you?

8 – “I immediately regret this decision.” – Nico Hischier

519 words

Thank you for choosing this one with Nico – I had a lot of fun with it, so I hope you enjoy reading it, sweet anon!

*

It was only one night. Not even that – just a few hours. Theoretically it shouldn’t be difficult at all, or in the very least, you should be able to power though.

Theoretically.

Instead you were sitting on the edge of the bed you shared with your fiancé, wearing a gorgeous long dark blue gown, glaring at the four inch heels which sat on the floor across the room. Yes, the heels. The bane of your life. You’d never quite managed to master walking confidently in heels – it didn’t matter what their height was – and tonight was no exception. Sure, you’d worn them around the house to take the edge off breaking them in, but now that the dreaded evening was here? Your anxiety was through the roof.

“Are you nearly ready, schätzli?”

You broke out of your thoughts at the sound of your fiancé Nico’s voice, and grimaced up at him where he was standing in the doorway.

“Nearly, yeah,” you nodded, “Just one last thing.”

Nico’s eyes travelled across the room until they landed on the dreaded heels, and he huffed out a laugh. “Ah yes, the shoes of doom,” he teased fondly.

“Hey, don’t be mean! Think of what I’m about to put my feet through for you!” you pouted.

Nico laughed a little louder, but walked over to kneel on the ground in front of you, resting both hands on your gown-covered knees. He really did look so good all dressed up in a nice suit, didn’t he? Paired with being on his knees in front of you…well, it was almost enough to distract you.

Almost.

“I will make sure to apologise to your feet tomorrow,” he mused, “But you know you could just wear flats, right?”

You sighed and shook your head, earning a soft frown from the man on the floor.

“Wearing flats will ruin the line of the dress,” you explained, smiling wryly, “The heels are a necessary evil this time,”

“Ah, well, I won’t pretend to understand anything about lines of dresses, but I will say that you look beautiful with or without heels,” Nico said, smiling warmly.

What a charmer.

It did make you smile genuinely at him though, probably just as he intended.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you mused.

“Good to know,” he grinned, “will it get me out the front door though? Because our car will be here in about 10 minutes,”

This just made you laugh, nudging him in the ribs with the balls of your feet. You could take a hint. With a sigh, you stood up from the bed and walked across the room, slipping your feet into the heels. The moment that you stood fully upright in them, that familiar ache started.

“Okay, yeah, no, I immediately regret this decision,” you groaned.

But Nico just laughed, sliding an arm around your waist, letting your lean into his side to take the weight off your feet. Damn heels.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Nico said softly.

It was the warmth in his eyes that had you nodding. “I’ll hold you to that,”

[metalheadcowboy]

Everyones eyes were glued to the table as the d20 cascaded across the makeshift landscape. The air felt so thick you could cut it with a steak knife, breaths being held all around as the die slowly, but surely slowed its role. Eddie leaned forward as the small object spun, making its final few turns before-

Bam!

All members of the party's heads shot up and towards the source of the sound, the creaky wooden door of the theater room. And if Eddie's heart wasn't already beating from fright he would have guessed it was excitement.

"Ah!" Eddie exclaimed, clapping his hands together once with joyous delight, "Is that who I think it is?" He squinted and pushed himself up and out of the throne he convinced, or rather bribed, the drama department to build him, slightly rough around the edges, but he was in no place to make complaints.

With his excitement came everyone else's detest, "An 8?" Mike grumbled, "A fucking 8 that's the best you could roll?" Gareth was quick to jump in, blabbering on about how it "wasn't his fault", but it was all background noise to Eddie.

Steve looked around the room with almost the same deer-in-headlights look he was getting in return, "King Harrington The Great," Eddie stepped out from the table to give a short, yet dramatic bow, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

After he got over the initial shock of everything Steve shook his head and rolled his eyes, "King Harrington The Great, really?" he scoffed, looking at his boyfriend who had the widest, catlike grin parting his lips.

"Well of course," Eddie continued, taking a step towards the other teen as the argument over the roll continued at the table, "Not every day us lowly folk are graced by the presence of royalty. Hath thou finally decided to join our traitorous quest to defeat Vecna once and for all?"

Steve cracked a smile of his own now, "Yeah in your dreams," he mumbled, "Once was far more than enough for me, thanks." Eddie's eyes widened almost comedically as he nodded in agreement, finally dropping the "poor peasant" act, which Steve was grateful for.

There was only a beat of silence before Eddie spoke again, "Well...?" he hummed expectantly, now only a few feet away from Steve with his hands behind his back, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited for the real reason the brown eyed boy had decided to show his face at Hellfire.

"Ah, shit, yeah, sorry," Steve stumbled, reaching in his pocket for something, "No need to be sorry, Stevie," Eddie corrected with a small, this time genuine smile. It was something they had both been working on, apologizing less for the small things, to each other at least. The task hadn't been easy, clearly.

Steve just nodded and took the small baggie out, finally finding it in the breast pocket of his Members Only jacket, "Left this at my house the other night, figured you might be pissed if I didn't give it back." Eddie looked at the bag in Steve's hand, examining the few nugs inside before pushing his hand back towards him.

"Don't sweat it," he assured, letting his hand linger on Steve's just a little longer than he might have normally, "What's yours is mine, what's mine is yours, and all that sentimental relationship crap." Steve chuckled, admittedly enjoying the warmth of Eddie's palm upon his own hand, chilled by the Hawkins autumn cold.

"You sure?" he questioned with a soft raise of his eyebrows. Usually Eddie would have charged him at least $10 for such a product, pretty girls getting the "flattery" discount, Steve Harrington getting the "pretty boyfriend with big puppy-dog eyes" discount. Which he could live with, $10 was no skin off his back, hell, he could pay a hell of a lot more if he pleased.

"Yeah, man, 's long as you save me some for when I get home." And Steve's heart grew three sizes, hearing Eddie call his house home. Apparently it showed because the other teen just sighed, "Don't get all sappy and emotional on me now, Stevie. I run a tight campaign around here, can't have anybody thinking I have compassion, or any of that other shit."

The older teen shoved the baggie back into his right pocket, zipping it for good measure, "No, of course not," he retorted sarcastically, "Eddie "The Freak" Munson, having," he gasped, "Feelings, unheard of." Eddie just gave him a soft shove of the shoulder, basking in the way Steve laughed with his belly.

"But seriously, dude," Steve said, tone light from laughter, "I came all the way here for nothing, then?" Eddie then took a sharp intake of air, throwing a hand over his heart like he had just been shot, taking a few stumbling steps back for a little more dramatic flare.

"I'm wounded, I truly am," Eddie croaked like they were his dying words, "Is seeing your partner not payment enough for the high and mighty Steve Harrington?" And there it was again, the characteristic facade Eddie played into that he pretended to hate more than he really did.

"Oh, shut up," he huffed, resisted an eye roll with all the power in his body. Eddie just smirked, letting his hands fall back to his side.

"If you want me to shut up so badly, why not do it yourself." Steve could just tell the younger teen thought he was being so slick, but all Steve heard was smart ass.

Without another word Steve took his right hand and shoved it over Eddie's mouth, the boy only getting out a few muffled words before taking the short route, licking Steve's palm. He recoiled back in disgust and Eddie took his shot, leaning in to attack Steve's lips with a kiss, narrowly missing to open-mouth kiss the corner of his mouth.

Suddenly the fighting behind them stopped and a chorus of "ew"s erupted from the party, "Silence!" Eddie shouted, pulling away from a now tomato red Steve Harrington clapping his hands together as he did when Steve entered, "I think it's about time we bid farewell to the ever great King Steve and continue on our journey. What do you say gentleman?"

The small crowd broke out different variations of "Yes's" and Eddie took that as his cue to see Steve out. In one fluid movement he grabbed the door handle, throwing the door back open with one hand and with the other took Steve's own.

"Until tonight Sir Steve," he brought Steve's knuckles up to press his lips against the tough skin, drinking in the small, almost flattered smile he got in return.

"Jesus, come on," Dustin whined, earning a scowl from Eddie, patting Steve on the back as he left.

"Alright, alright, no need to get your knickers in a bunch," he sighed, returning to his throne once more, squatting in it like that was the only proper way to sit.

"The only one with their knickers in a bunch is you," Jeff chimed in.

"Yeah, and I think I know who's doing the bunching if you know what I mean," Gareth added, each of the boys breaking into their own variations of snickers and giggles.

And Eddie was almost 100% sure he was going to skin them all alive by the end of the night.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Chaos Magic: Four

A/N: A little Angsty. A little insecurity. And the reader discusses how uncomfortable it can be going from 1000 years ago to the modern-day.

Bruce stood on his balcony sipping coffee and watched you. If anyone asked he was admiring your running form. Not that anyone would. Alfred hadn’t commented on his Romantic relationships since he was in his 20’s.

Still. He’d never considered that he’d be here. Not when he’d gone to say hello to Diana at an Event. In his minds eye, he can still see you.

“Bruce!” Diana had said, genuinely delighted. Kissing either cheek, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I didn’t expect to be here,” he said, “But. I couldn’t miss the opportunity to see you.”

“Flattery,” she said waving the words away, still smiling. “Oh! How Rude of me-” She broke off and half turned, tugging you forward affectionately, “This is Y/N Y/L/N, a doctoral candidate I’ve been working with. Y/N, this is Bruce Wayne.”

“Mr. Wayne” you answer, accepting the hand he offered with a smile. You look warm and bright. Your dress is not expensive. But. It fits well. And your makeup and hair accentuate your natural beauty instead of covering over things you’d like to hide.

“My pleasure,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. Pleasantly surprised to find your hands delicate but- stronger than they look. Manicured but not without callouses from some sort of work. And when you look up at him, your eyes make him feel like he’s sunk into a warm pool. And as he watches your face heat, he can feel Diana practically vibrating with glee.

“Excuse me I’ve just seen- someone,” she said, pulling away from you in spite of your protests.

“Oh- I-” you fumble for a second, watching her go and your vulnerability makes him want to protect you.

“What do you study?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Witchcraft- and religion,” you answer, glancing away.

“Ah,” he said understanding, “You’ve been helping her to catalog.”

You nod, “And working on my own research- I defend my thesis next month.”

“Good luck,”he said, snagging two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, proffering one to you, relieved when you accepted with a small smile.

“Thank you,” you murmur, “I’m only a little terrified.”

“Diana speaks very highly of you,” he said, sipping champagne. “And she’s- difficult to impress. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” And when you beam at him, he feels 10 feet tall.

_______

“Master Bruce?”

Alfred’s voice startles him out of his memory and he half turns, “Are the boys off to school?”

“Miss Y/N packed their lunches herself,” he said. And the notes of affection in his voice makes Bruce smile a little. “She’s recovered well,” He observed, glancing at where Bruce had been watching your laps and where you were currently advising the gardener about things you wanted in your raised beds. You might plant and tend them yourself but. You appreciate not having to look for the supplies yourself.

Bruce grunted in agreement, “She’s almost back to normal.”

“And doing well enough to be dreading the gala tonight.”

He glanced at his butler and quirked an eyebrow, “Problem, Alfred?”

“None at all, Master Bruce. But. Masters Dick and Jason have a bet about how long it will take her to make a reporter regret a question.”

Bruce snorted. You hated dealing with press. You hated wearing gowns. You hated the artifice of it all. But. You did it. Because he asked. “I’ll have to make it up to her later.”

“Perhaps a camping trip,” Alfred suggested. “The weather is getting nice.”

“Hmm-” he grunted, nodding. Your last trip into the wild had been- less than restful. And he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t worried for you. Physically you had recovered but. Mentally? Tavor had explained more of the actual process. And he didn’t have to wonder why you struggled to sleep and why you’d been more quiet than normal. Still a loving mother to the boys. Still a doting wife. He didn’t question that you were happy but. There was something- wrong. Something off. “I’ll talk to her about it.”

“The children have been pestering her about teaching them how to cook over a fire,” Alfred said smiling.

“It’s a good skill,” he hummed, smiling a little as he watched you stop and greet one of the maids. He didn’t hear the conversation, but the tension left the younger woman’s shoulders and her face brightened.

Alfred didn’t say anything but, Bruce could feel his approval. “It’s just like magic,” Alfred chuckled. And not for the first time, Bruce wondered if you did magic a few things into running smoothly. “Your mother had that same talent,” Alfred said, “she knew everything that went on in this house. And everything the staff got up to.” Bruce smiled a little.

“I remember.”

The Butler withdrew shortly, bidding you good morning in the hallway and informing you that Bruce was indeed awake. And when you slip into the room, he turns to smile at you.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, crossing the floor to kiss you. He knew you hadn’t. Your side of the bed had been cold. And hardly slept in when he reached for you.

You shrug and let him pull you into his arms, grateful that he’d not showered yet and didn’t care that you were fresh from a run.

“Nervous?” he teased, kissing your nose.

“No- just,” you sigh, and let your head thud against his bare chest with a groan, “Is it too late to say I don’t feel up to it?”

Bruce worked the hair tie from your hair gently and rubbed your shoulders, “A little,” he hums, “But- if you don’t go Dick and Jason will be disappointed.”

“Why?”

“They enjoy watching you stonewall reporters that have the gall to insinuate that they aren’t your kids.”

“I swear I didn’t hex the last one-”

“Mhmm, and he just pissed his pants of his own volition?”

“Ask Clark. I’m very unnerving.”

“Absolutely terrifying,” he agreed, tilting your chin up to kiss you, hoping to chase the anxious thoughts out of your mind. He knew he probably should rein you in. Tell you not to do things like that. But he’d seen the looks the boys traded the first time a reporter had asked when you were going to have “Kids of your own”. They’d looked uncertain. Like they were waiting for you to break their hearts some how. And then The way they relaxed when you gestured at them and said, “What are they? Figments of my imagination?” And the way they beamed when you stared the man down, daring him to double down on it. Jaw set and eyes flashing. And he just can’t. So he kisses you instead and it’s gratifying when you melt into him with a soft needy noise and sigh.

“Bruce,” you protest, when his hands find the hem of your tank top, “I’m going to be late I’ve got-”

He kisses you more insistently then, pulling you more tightly against him. “They can wait,” he rumbled. “I can’t. Please?” He pulls your tank top over your head easily and gave you his most charming smile. “I missed you.”

And you can’t tell him no. Not effectively. “I need a shower,” you protest weakly.

“So do I,” he hummed, picking you up easily, “we can save water.”

You can’t argue with that logic.

_________

Bruce fidgeted idly with his watch and looked at the boys. They were, courtesy of your nerves, happily munching on brownies.

“You’re going to be late, Father,” Damien said round a mouthful, “What’s taking mother so long?”

Before he can answer, Alfred hands him a glass of milk and answers, “Perfection takes time, Master Damien,” he chuckles, “And I daresay Miss Y/N had more to do today than primp in front of a mirror.”

“I did in fact,” you sigh, fidgeting nervously with your bracelet, stopping only to adjust Bruce’s tie and smudge a kiss against his jaw. For a moment, you’re oblivious to the stares of your sons. The pairs of eyes that were watching intently. Watching you fuss over their father. And watching Bruce look at you adoringly. Bruce, for his part, is admiring you. Your soft spring green gown, and the rose gold and diamond jewelry. The way you dressed your hair… He’d been right to pick this gown. It echoes your ceremonial clothes. And suits you in a way that more conventional gowns didn’t. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

Bruce tilts your chin up tenderly and brushes his thumb against your jaw, “As always,” he rumbled, “You’re worth the wait.” And when your face heats and your eyes warm, he smiles.

“You have good taste,” you answer modestly, pulling away slightly before things can start to get heated. And you turn to your sons, “Be good. And don’t stay up too late, you have school tomorrow.”

“Mom,” Dick protested, “It’s almost break.”

“Which means midterms,” you remind, reaching up to hand him a napkin for the crumbs on his mouth. “Alfred,” you sigh, “We’ve got to start putting bricks on their heads. It’s criminal that they’re all getting so tall.”

“Y/N,” Bruce interrupted. He knew you’d rather stay home. That this kind of party was ot your idea of a good time. No matter how easily you handled it. And how well you played the part your relationship required- it all just made you feel awkward. “We’ve got to go.”

You crinkle your nose in distaste and Jason pats your arm awkwardly, “You look really pretty, mom.”

And when you beam at him, his face heats. “Thank you,” you hum. And when you squeeze his shoulder he shuffles back. Pleased with himself but still uncomfortable. He’d been the last one to call you ‘mom’ and still got a little shy about it in front of others.

“If someone flirts with B are you gonna curse them?” Dick asked, starting a spate of questions from the others, deflecting for Jason so he wasn’t the center of attention any more.

But Before you can answer, Bruce ushers you out of the room, “Be good!” you call over your shoulder.

Alfred watches the two of you go, smiling a little. Decades ago, he’d heard Bruce’s parents give him the same orders. And he was grateful Bruce had found you. That you were willing to be a mother to all the wayward children Bruce had brought home.

“Why does Mother hate parties?”

“She doesn’t,” Dick said stretching, “She loves parties- especially birthdays. And Christmas. Remember? She made us all decorate and made all our favorite cookies.”

“But-”

“She just gets nervous,” Alfred said, “It’s hard, being your father’s wife, Master Damien. Her every public move is scrutinized- And coming from being frozen in time somewhere in the fall of Rome into modern day… I’d imagine she’s still a trifle uncomfortable with it.”

________ Bruce watches you stone wall a reporter and tightened his grip on your waist, leaning down to murmur in your ear, “Don’t make him piss himself. It’s too conspicuous.”

“Fine. Never tied shoelaces it is,” you answer, smiling up at him like nothing was wrong before turning to wave like you’d seen an acquaintance in the distance.

“Shoelaces?”

“Sure. Hopefully he trips and ruins those tacky pants.”

“Absolutely terrifying,” he muttered, turning to where Lois Lane, and thus Clark Kent were waiting to ask questions. And he relaxes fractionally when you greet Lois like an old friend, giving her the full effect of your warmth. He knew Lois was going to be far less interested in the salacious and more concerned with your work. The things you did for the Wayne foundation. Your research… things that had actual journalistic merit. And Clark, well. It was just amusing to watch him be uncomfortable. He wasn’t a fan of magic. Especially since you tended to dampen his hearing which made it very easy for you to sneak up on him.

“Mr. Wayne,” Clark said taking his hand, “How’s married life?”

“Always an adventure,” he said smiling a little. If you were uncomfortable, no one who didn’t know you well would be able to tell. You were telling Lois a brief overview of your current projects. One of which was about the way magic had evolved in the modern era as Paganism found a footing in the 21st century… Bruce knew it was a byproduct of the boys showing you tiktok. And twitter. And tumblr… And how people used them to disseminate information. But, he could see the tightness in your shoulders. You know people are watching you. Scrutinizing. And that tomorrow, tabloids will be speculating that you might be pregnant. That your marriage was falling apart. That one or both of you was cheating. And it bothered you.

“That’s for sure,” he answered, turning to look at Lois fondly. “We’ll have to get together soon.”

“I was going to see about a camping trip,” Bruce answered, “Maybe sometime after that.”

__________

You frown at your phone and sigh. “Alfred what is an ‘Op’ or ‘Cap’ like… what is ‘tea’ and why are there so many names for drugs?”

The butler shrugged and chuckled, “ I think, Y/N that those would be better questions to ask your sons.”

“They usually just laugh at me,” you answer, carding your fingers through your hair. “Which- I suppose is normal. I don’t think they realize that I’m very earnest about it.” Mostly you’re comfortable in this time. You can drive. Use a phone. Find research articles online… Sushi is pretty tasty. And you enjoy modern music. There’s so much. And it’s so expressive. But some things… History. Subtle nuances. Pop culture… The sheer volume of information you don’t know, even after all this time is daunting.

Alfred made a soft sympathetic noise and set a proper mug of tea on the table next to your hand, “That’s likely. They can barely conceptualize a world before smartphones- The idea that you were frozen in time 1000 years ago probably doesn’t really register.”

You sip the tea and give him a small smile of thanks, pulling your knees against your chest on the chair. “I suppose it doesn’t matter really I just- I almost understand why the Magi hid themselves away.” You feel old. And tired. Part of you knows that you’re being maudlin and need to pull it together. But part of you wonders if you shouldn’t just hide under your bed. You’d managed to become a doctor and get through school. You understood modern science. And math. You spoke 4 languages. You weren’t stupid but- you sure felt like it sometimes.

“Perhaps a run before the boys get home?” Alfred tried. It wasn’t often that you talked about the struggles you had understanding this time. At least not to him.

You nod, taking another sip of tea, “That might help,” you hum, getting to your feet. “I’m getting morbid and I think- I think it’s time for a break.”

“That’s the spirit,” he encouraged. And when you walk away, leaving your phone behind on the table, he smiles a little. 15 years. You’d only known this world with phones and you still only carried one because Bruce insisted that you take it with you.

[reigenhusband]

Psychic Wedding Time!

Art by @/cowboyologist

After months of holding back, we finally tied the ole knot! Me and the conman are officially hitched today September 10, 2021!

This silly little blonde anime man means an awful lot to me and its really more than I can say. These months with him have been a great help.

When I went through some of the roughest things I've ever gone through, I had him to think about for comfort. He is a little part in what keeps me going and I wish I could thank him for everything. He sparks a lot of joy so I think I'm gonna keep him!

I've never been happier and I'm so lucky to call him husband! He's had such a positive impact and I love him so, so much.

Special thank you to my friends and of course our son Mob who carried the rings!

Under the cut is a little fic about getting ready for the wedding. Thanks everyone for your support!

Reigen squinted at his reflection, dark eyes hauntingly focused on a strand of hair that didn't take to the product he put in it. A grunt of dismay rumbled low in his throat.

"Um…Reigen?" 

"Just a second, Serizawa. Almost got it."

The taller man's voice wavered but he managed to hold fast and keep his confidence. Reigen could almost hear his hands wringing. 

"Er...Well. Its just...you've been staring at yourself for a little over 20 minutes now and you haven't moved and…"

Reigen sucked his teeth and pressed his palm firmly to the side of his head. Damned strand of hair! Slick like the rest of it! Don't you know know day it is?!

"What I mean is..! Are you alright?" Serizawa finally asked, his voice heavy with concern. "Since it's your wedding and all I figured you'd be nervous but you seem really on edge. Is something bothering you?" 

The blonde twitched.

 "W...what are you talking about? Of course not! I'm calm and-" He stopped abruptly and slammed his hands flat on either side of the mirror, his eyes wide and bloodshot upon inspection of his suit. A fleck of black thread pervaded his white vest and he looked around frantically for the lint roller. "You thought you could hide but you can't best Reigen Arataka." He muttered as he furiously went over his all but pristine wedding attire. 

His best man scratched his own cheek nervously and looked on with clear uncertainty. "If you're sure." 

Once he was satisfied after a thorough inspection and having Serizawa scrutinize the back, he dropped into a chair. Nearby was a table decorated in what was probably a thousand congratulatory flowers from clients. He exhaled and stared a hole into the arrangement of colors. His heart was pounding. His brow, coupled with his hands, were visibly slick with chilled sweat. His stomach was full of stones. 

He met his own gaze in the mirror again. He looked well kept and yet...disheveled at the same time. Come to think of it, his face was flushed the shade of his usual pink tie. The last 3 days without sleep also hollowed out dark circles under his eyes. His shirt collar began to feel more and more constricting as time went on no matter how much he tugged on it. 

Maybe he really was scared. 

He didn't doubt that he loved Mitty. In fact, he wanted to be with him more than anyone. A case of cold feet wouldn't change that. It was himself he was wrestling with here. 

Spirits, monsters, and deadly espers. He'd faced them all and came out on top. But they were nothing compared to these looming expectations to be a person to rely on. This wasn't something he could bullshit his way through. This was marriage. Mitty was going to see the warted underbelly of when he was Reigen the man instead of Reigen the psychic. His fiancé was going to experience sides of him he only revealed when he was alone. Would he still like him even then?

Reigen was good at a lot of things but this had to be the one that counted most. Could he really be a good partner forever? 

Was he really going to cut it as a husband? 

"Hey, Serizawa?" Reigen asked, not looking at him. 

The man's shoulders lurched at his name suddenly being called. He straightened his back. "Oh! Yes sir?"

"Do you think we'll be good together?" 

Silence sat heavily for a moment. Every second felt longer than the last. 

His friend seemed taken aback by the question but nonetheless looked at the ceiling as though collecting the right words to answer. "Well…"

Another moment passed and Reigen waited with his hands clasped and breath baited. 

"I've never been with anyone so I can't say for certain what a good relationship is but," A compassionate smile spread across the esper's face before he continued, visibly more sure of his words. "I think you and Mr. Mitty understand each other. You always seem to know what the other is thinking. You motivate each other to be better and you seem happy when you're together. And...and you trust each other too. And I think that's whats important." 

Reigen looked at the velveted floor. "Then…"  

"You've become more honest by being with him and he talks like you're really important to him. So please...get married if it makes you both happy! I think you can really be something!" His friend was beaming with 

what Reigen could only say was genuine assurance. 

"I really believe you'll take care of each other." 

His co-worker actually really was resourceful. Maybe someday he ought to pay him more. The uncomfortable feelings waned slightly and his shoulders slowly slacked. Mitty was waiting for him so now wasn't the time to lose it. 

After a few seconds of letting his feelings iron themselves out, he stood and smoothed his hands over his suit jacket. "Well alright then. If thats what you think then I guess there's no backing out of this one." 

Serizawa pressed his hands together in delight. "YES! I've got your back, Reigen!" 

The door into the hallway opened and a set of black eyes peered into the room. "Master, It's starting. Are you coming?" 

The jarring announcement had him scrambling to fix the piece of hair he'd been fussing with. 

"OF COURSE." He jabbed his thumb into his own chest to feign total confidence. "Right behind you, Mob!" 

He held his breath. Alright, let's do this. 

Mitty POV

Teal eyes darted around the room carefully. 

"Hey...Dimple? You there?"

The whizzing of the spirit materializing buzzed next to his ear. 

"Yeah whaddya want? You're on soon, aren't you?" 

Mitty jabbed his right hook into the air where the voice was coming from. "AGH WHAT THE HELL?"

A swift flash of green dodged his reach. 

"HEY, why are you hitting me?! You asked for ME, remember?" The ghost clucked his tongue in disapproval and floated a few inches away for safety. 

"WELL MATERIALIZE WHERE I CAN SEE YOU, YOU BIG BOOGER! I'm on edge!" 

"On edge? What for? You're the one who wanted this, right?"

"W..well….yeah, sorry." He looked at his clenched fist and opened it. "...sorry." He said again more thoughtfully this time. 

Dimple raised a spectral eyebrow. "Whats wrong? Having second thoughts? I mean it's Reigen so who can blame ya."

Mitty scowled while straightening his tie in the mirror. "Hey! REIGEN'S…." His voice softened closer to a whisper. "A pretty good guy. Get off my case. Aren't you supposed to be my support? You're being kinda harsh!" 

"Well kid, something is obviously on your mind so let's hear it. Wedding starts soon right? Yeesh. Once you do all this he's your problem forever." 

"I'm not worried about him!! I'm more worried about...me."

"About you? What're you talkin' about?! You're too good for him!"

"Thanks for the flattery. You still can't have my body though."

"Well I didn't want it anyways, ya bastard. You're weak compared to Shigeo. I'm just being honest here!" 

Silence.

"So? Out with it, What did you want anyways? You're talking nonsense here!" 

Mitty wrinkled his nose in discomfort.  "I just needed to ask something. But you can't run your mouth off like you always do, you old gossip. You're like a knitting circle."

"TCH. like I'd blabber your business to someone. It's all so boring."

"Yeah, yeah just listen, alright?!"

Another few seconds passed. "So? Say it. We don't have all day, you know."

He was looking at his hands again like he was somewhere far off. "Well. D...D'you think I'll be good at this?" 

"Good at what, exactly?" 

"Being married." 

Dimple's form rippled with thought. "You're seriously worried about that?"

Mitty was going to make a sharp remark but his head dropped and his face buried into his knuckles. "Yeah."

Dimple deflated slightly in exasperated defeat. Humans could be so ignorant. 

"Listen. That fraud never shuts up about you. You think you're not good enough? You should hear him talk. It's annoying how you both don't realize things."

"Realize things?"

He sighed and shrugged his tiny arms. "I hear everything whether you like it or not. You two idiots never stop talking and moaning about the other is too good for the other. It's getting old, really." 

"HUH? He says that? No way! But he's always beaten me at everything! I always thought he was way out of my league." 

 "Kinda the opposite actually but...sure. What I'm saying is…! You're both seeing the best parts of each other. Keep doing that and it'll be smooth sailing."

"Yeah but...what if he stops seeing the best in me?'

"You planning on making things hard?" 

"Not really. I just know I can be difficult to deal with." 

"So is he. You really think you got this far because Reigen's all roses and sunshine? 'Course not. You've seen all the stuff he does and you still like him, right?" 

He certainly was flawed, that was for sure. Mitty spent most of Reigen's antics with his eyes rolled up in his head but that didn't mean he wasn't enjoying the moment either. 

"Right."

"Then it's the same for him. Sure it won't always be fun but that phoney won't give up on you just because you're annoying. He's way too persistent. It kind of ticks me off." 

I'm annoying???  That stung but he shook it off.

Reigen was going to have to deal with him for the rest of his life once they said the right words. But if Dimple was right...would it be so bad to annoy each other for the rest of their lives if the other was willing to put up with it? 

Reigen seemed okay with it so far. Mitty would just have to listen to him make a fuss about his coffee table clutter until he died. But really, he wouldn't have that any other way. His voice was kind of cute when he hit that inhuman octave he had when he was in disbelief. 

The door from the hall swung open and a blond clad in what was perhaps the most blinding and loud suit he had ever seen poked his head in. 

"Oh, You're still in here? It's bad luck to be late on your wedding day! Master Reigen is waiting. " He cocked his head to the side. "Or did you need some help with your suit? Its looking a little plain." 

Hanazawa. This kid would try to accessorize his suit in the worst way possible. He put up his hands to wave him off. 

"N-nah, kiddo that's alright. I'll be right there."

Hanazawa, after a few more attempts to get Mitty to let him help retreated back into the hallway. When it was quiet again he eyed Dimple. He was abrasive and unpleasant. He always had a motive for everything and rarely had something nice to say. 

But he came through when it mattered. 

"Hey Dimple?" 

"Yeah? What is it?" 

"Thanks." 

Dimple wouldn't meet his eyes and levitated towards the hall. He didn't want to acknowledge he was helping, he supposed. It was in character for that tsundere blob.

"You ought to get out of here now if you wanna make it on time." 

He stood and dusted himself off. 

"Welp. Here goes everything."

[johnkrrasinski]

𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜

Chapter 4: hell was the journey but it brought me heaven (final)

full masterlist // series masterlist // commission open // support my work

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,943

Summary: blessed with telepathic abilities since birth, you were captured by HYDRA and turned into one of their weapons to kill. after the blip, you were pardoned by the government and you were obliged to check up with dr. raynor everyday which you had no clue would lead you to the one soul you’d been waiting for.

Warnings: SMUT!! (18+) dirty talk, oral (female receiving), fingering, shower sex, happy ending.

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @ohmickeyhenry who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for trusting me with your story. i sincerely hope you like it.

You sat on the front porch as your fingers flipped through the page of the romance novel you had your nose in. It was a beautiful day, the weather wasn’t too hot or too cold, perfect to spend hours escaping into a story outside. Alpine purred on the chair where Bucky would sit if he was here but he wasn’t because he was on an overseas mission with Sam and though you offered to come with him, Tony said that it would be best if you sat this one out. You didn’t take it personally, however, it was hard to be separated from him for nearly a month.

Bucky said he’d be coming home soon and though the mission kept delaying them to come home, Bucky called and texted you every day to let you know that he was alright and how far on completing the mission had they gone. You were glad that Sam and Bucky had each other while you weren’t around to take care of him because you knew that Sam was the only person who could ground him other than you.

You and Bucky had been together for nearly five months now, after your recovery in Wakanda and adjusting to the new life of being superheroes, you both decided that you wanted to settle in a more remote place. All of the Avengers had their own places outside of the compound so you thought, why don’t you get yours? You talked about getting your own place in Brooklyn but eventually, you came to a decision where somewhere in the country would be better for both of your mental beings, while also still residing in the New York area so that you’d be ready in case there are emergency missions.

Since moving to the countryside, you had felt much more at peace and you had learned more about yourself than before. You were in the middle of the process of moving in when Bucky was needed by Tony to take care of an international matter with Sam, so Tony helped call in some people to help you with your stuff.

The place you had with Bucky was lovely, it wasn’t anything big or swanky, it was simply a rural rustic home that blends woods and stones as the foundation. It had a large loft where you placed your bed, and the roof had upper windows which shed lights into the entire room. It was even more stunning at night where you could see the stars and the moon that illuminated the dark space. From the veranda, you could enjoy the beautiful view of greenery and the lake surrounding you. It was heaven, but most importantly, it was your and Bucky’s little heaven.

You’d often feel lonely living in the cabin, so you decided to adopt a cat while Bucky was away. You didn’t tell him because you wanted it to be a surprise. You named her Alpine. You’d always wanted to have a pet and now that you had your own place, you could have one without worrying it would bother anyone.

You talked to Bucky this morning and he estimated that he’d be coming home in two days, which means he’d be home by his birthday. You couldn’t think of a more perfect gift than this adorable, blue-eyed cat. It was as if she got them from her dad whom she had yet to meet. You also wanted to make his birthday and celebrate his coming home more special so you put down the book and went to the grocery store in town that afternoon to shop for the ingredients to bake a cake.

You had learned a lot of new things after you moved here, and baking was quickly becoming your hobby, so you were excited to utilize that new skill to surprise the love of your life. You spent the next day in the kitchen so once Bucky walked through the front door, the cake would be ready to be served. You were giddy thinking about the look on his face and how proud you would feel to make him happy with something you made of your own.

You were lying on your couch with Alpine by your feet, reading the book that you didn’t get to finish yesterday when you heard your phone notifying you a text had been received.

I’m outside, babydoll.

You instantly got up from your couch and put your book on the table. Your first thought this morning was Bucky would back to your arms this afternoon and you were ecstatic. You had missed him terribly and you wanted to curl up in his embrace and never let him go. He was your anchor and you were his rock, you both needed each other to get through the days. How you managed to survive so long without him was beyond you.

You chose a nice outfit, nothing fancy just a simple sundress that you feel your best in, put on some makeup and did your hair. Though you didn’t have a clue on makeup products, let alone apply them all over your face, you did spend a handful of times watching Youtube for guidance. You knew you didn't have to put all that effort to keep Bucky in love with you but you wanted to do something nice for him. For the first time in forever, you were a free woman who was allowed to make her own choices, you were going to revel in exploring them.

You opened the door and there he was, as handsome as the devil, as gentle as an angel. Everything about him captivated you yet, he soothed every nervous system in your body too. He was grinning at you like he had just won a prize and you couldn’t help but throw yourself at him as soon as the door was fully opened. “Bucky!”

He hugged you back, holding you so tightly to his chest and he kissed you as a lover would until you needed air. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he swept the hair that was falling on your face, slightly hiding your beauty.

You smiled at his flattery, “I got a surprise for you…”

“A surprise?” He looked genuinely perplexed. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s your birthday, silly. And to celebrate you coming home, of course, because I missed you so badly.”

“Sweetheart, you don't need to get me anything, you’re all the blessing I need in my life.”

“And you are mine, but you deserve more. So, close your eyes.” You ordered him like you were an excited 10 years old ready to show off her science project to her parents. He did as he was told and you took his hand and led him to the kitchen where his cake was sitting perfectly. “Don’t open your eyes until I tell you!”

He chuckled, “okay.”

Bucky trusted you wholeheartedly so he didn’t worry he’d walk into a wall or slam his hips to the kitchen counter as he was being led down to where his cake was. “Okay, now open your eyes.” He did so and he saw you standing behind the tiny dining table, near the kitchen chanting Ta-Da! Presenting a chocolate birthday cake, in the shape of a heart in front of you.

You lit up the candles that were in the shape of 106 and you brought the cake closer to him, “happy birthday, my love.”

Bucky was grinning from ear to ear, he couldn’t contain the happiness swelling in his heart. While he was on his bike, driving from the compound to his cabin-like home, all he expected was a warm shower and being tangled between the sheets with you. Since he was turned into The Winter Soldier, he no longer cared about birthdays or his age. Time felt blurry and all that mattered was his purpose in his life which is to make amends to the wrongs he committed during his winter soldier days and the few people that he cared about.

But now you were in his life, you were going to make sure his birthdays are special and that every second you both spent together was precious. “I got another surprise for you…” You walked to the couch to carry Alpine and when Bucky saw her, his eyes lit up.

“You got us a cat?!” You handed her to Bucky gently like a newborn baby and Bucky cradled her to his chest, looking like an affectionate father.

“I did. I felt lonely while you were away so I thought I’d get a pet now that we’ve got our own place and I saw her at the shelter when I went to town and she looked so adorable, I just had to take her home, Buck,” you watched Bucky lovingly stroke the cat’s ear.

“I never had a pet before…”

“I know, and neither had I so I thought, the three of us would make a wonderful family.”

“Thank you, doll. This is… This is the best birthday gift I could ever ask for.”

“You’re welcome, love. By the way, her name’s Alpine.”

Bucky nodded, “suits her.”

“Now, as delicious as that cake looks, I really need to take a shower, would you mind joining me?” Bucky held out his hand for you.

“There’s nothing else I’d rather do,” Bucky took your hand and carried you in bridal style to your bathroom, which had rustic walls like the rest of the house and dark brown sink vanity with a mirror at the centre above.

Bucky put you down and you both began stripping out of your clothes. You helped Bucky with his once yours were on the hanger because you wanted to feel him, really feel him now. Once only his boxer remained, you slid the shower glass door and you pulled him, giggling like teenagers trying to sneak out in the middle of the night as he struggled to take off his boxer with the way you were pulling him.

You turned on the shower, just warm enough to soothe your nerves and help Bucky relax. Bucky cupped your face and you both began making out, the stream of water made it difficult to keep your eyes open but you always got so lost in his kisses that you could never keep your eyes open even if you wanted to. It felt like heaven to feel those lips again after a month of his absence.

Bucky lifted you and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He slammed you to the bathroom glass as he dominated your mouth, his tongue tangled with yours as his vibranium arm leaned against the glass. Bucky trailed kissed to the column of your neck and you threw your head back, giving him easier access. He bit the skin, marking you as his.

The water kept flowing down and you both forgot what you were there for in the first place. “Oh, missed you so fucking much, doll.”

“I missed you too,” you said as you panted.

“Those nude pictures you sent weren’t helping either. Each time I see you naked, it went straight to my cock. It was torture not to have you right away.” Bucky put you down and kissed your body, down to your stomach until he reached the part where you needed him most. Bucky lifted your right leg onto his shoulder and kissed the inside of your thigh as he left a love bite with his teeth there too.

You didn’t mind, you were his as much as he was yours and you loved it when he got a little rough or possessive, though you knew Bucky would never hurt you and if he did, you wouldn’t hesitate in telling him. But you loved to walk around with his marks on you, you wore them proudly.

Bucky dipped his head to your core, tasting your arousal like a famished man. He had been deprived of your taste for a month, he wasn’t going to hold back. He could spend hours in between your legs if you let him and he’d never get tired of it. Bucky licked a stripe of your slit, making you throw your head back again and moan.

He grabbed your arse to keep you standing, with the way he was devouring you, your thighs began to shake, and you would’ve crumbled to the floor if he wasn’t holding you. You tugged his hair, keeping his face close to your cunt. You couldn’t help but grind yourself onto his face and you could feel him smirking.

The way his stubble grazed your delicate skin was tantalizing, you’d tried to close your legs a few times around his head but he always held them back. You could feel your muscles tightening, but before you could burst, Bucky put your leg to the floor and he stood up, kissing you again and you could taste your arousal all over his tongue. It was erotic yet intimate at the same time.

Bucky grabbed your hips and spun you around, you could feel his stiff member nudging you from behind as you both fought for dominance with your tongues. Bucky took a fistful of your hair and lifted your head back, once again trailing open-mouthed kisses to your throat. His fingers made their way down to your clit, rubbing it in circles furiously as if you weren’t soaked enough already from the way his tongue ingurgitated you.

You whimpered at his touch, the way he always knew how to light up every cell in your body with his touch was a wonder. It was as if your body had given itself completely to him and it was going to comply with whatever his touch tells you to do. Like the way you willingly bared your soul to him, you didn’t fight it at all, let the love and passion you had for each other consume you.

“You’re dripping all over my hand, doll.”

“I need you to fuck me now, please.” You were losing your mind with the way he was stimulating you, you needed to have him inside you now.

“Anything for you, baby.”

Bucky used your wetness to lubricate his member, making it easier for him to slide in. You leaned against the glass with your hands against it as he gripped your hip with his flesh hand and your shoulder with his vibranium one. Bucky pushed himself until he was fully sheathed and he groaned, “oh fuck, I ain’t gonna last long. Missed this tight cunt so much.”

Bucky gave you a few seconds to adjust to his size, and once you told him to move, he began with slow paces. You threw your head back and leaned against his shoulder as he kept thrusting in and out of you at a faster speed. Bucky moved his vibranium arm to your hip and wrapped his flesh hand around your jaw, directing it to his face so he could kiss you deeply.

The sounds of your skin slapping were salacious. Bucky felt you clenched around him and the coil in your stomach tightened. His fingers that were gripping your waist once again furiously rubbed your clit, igniting the fire in your muscles. Your cries grew louder as his rhythm began to falter, and the dam in you broke, your squirts streamed down your thighs, clouding your brain with pleasure.

Bucky started to get messy as he chased his own orgasm. He followed you to the place of euphoria, releasing himself deep inside you, panting your walls with hot white gush. Bucky leaned his forehead against the glass as he breathed heavily with his heart thumping against his chest. His weight on your back was comforting so you stayed there for a while until you both began to come down from your highs.

Bucky pulled out of you and his orgasm ran down your thighs, following yours. You turned around to face him and kiss him again. “That was fucking amazing,” Bucky said as he cleaned you up.

“I should be the one doing that, I wasn’t the one who just came home from a one month mission,” you retorted as you watched him going down to scrub your thighs where your juices were sticking on your skin.

“Well, now that I’m here, let me take care of my girl, will ya?”

You only chuckled and eventually, you both helped rinsed each other off. Once the shower was done, Bucky dried you with a towel and carried you to your bed, which he had yet to sleep on since it got here.

Life was a funny thing. Sometimes it dragged you down to hell, making you question if you had ever committed such a heinous crime in your previous life that cost you such misery in your present. But then, slowly but surely, the journey that you had to endure, led you to your fate, for better or for worse.

You couldn’t change where you had been and what you had done, but you could choose how you were going to redeem yourself and how you were going to spend the remaining years of your life now. You didn’t know much about your future as an Avenger. Hell, you were barely an Avenger, to begin with, but eventually, when you were ready, you knew there’d be nothing too big to overcome because you had Bucky by your side to walk through the storm with.

You didn’t have the privilege to believe in mystical things such as lucky stars but you were going to thank whatever was out there for the invisible string that tied you to Bucky.

tags; @ohmickeyhenry @suitofvibraniumarmor @themaddies-obx @themaddies-obx @beminetokeep @bluemoon-icecream @bluemoon-icecream-blog @harprs @thefridgeismybestie @abitofeverythingg @wolfonthemoonwatchestvshows @julimelodi @bookscoffeandotherstuff @tanyaherondale @artisancowbells @ferxaniti @intothesoul @hallecarey1 @buckybarnesplumwhore @thefallenbibliophilequote @andiyholly @emizla @capxwinter @jevans2 @alwaysreadingimagineschick @swtltlmrvlgrl @extremelyblackandwhite

[perhapsthanatos]

10:32 pm with yuta ♡

nct’s yuta x fem!reader (got inspired by a dream of mine & found the idea really cute)

alternate title: be the james dean to my audrey hepburn

genre: fluff. a pinch of angst. non idol au. badboy!yuta au.

word count: 1400~

playlist: chinatown by wild nothing, lover’s rock by tv girl & work this time by king gizzard and the lizard wizard.

warnings: featuring johnny (not a warning though). smoking cigarettes. cursing. lowercase intended. not proofread.

a/n: hi i was supposed to post a vampire!haechan fic but i really wasnt happy w it in general :( the plot or overall idea of the fic was really good, but i just felt as if i didnt do it justice so here we are :( but ngl, i kind of like this concept more? maybe bc i can see it more vividly? idk, i feel like my writings r getting repetitive & its getting on my nerves lmaoo this is getting long im sorry do u guys even read this part anyway? i would also like to apologize abt the amount of projecting im doing lmao ive been having some rough days & i love my sister but hate being compared to her so often so this is a way for me to rant abt it ig? also so sorry its coming out a little later bc i woke up late today (& procrastinated for the rest of it so here i am posting really late at night) & decided to go to the convenience store to get ice cream (& a ton of other bad shit pls dont do this its rlly unhealthy) for breakfast bc i can :) any who, enjoy lovelies <3

“oh my, y/n! you’ve grown up so well! just like your sister!”

“oh! i’m sorry i’ve almost mistaken you for your sister! y/n is your name, correct?”

“y/n, darling, you are looking so dashing! you really do resemble your sister, don’t you?”

“ah, you must be y/n! i’ve heard all about you and your sister from your father!”

you swear that your reddening cheeks are threatening to fall off any moment now from all the fake smiling. the hundreds of superficial compliments, the insincere flattery and the need for these people to constantly compare you to your godforsaken sister makes you feel even weaker than you are. it gets harder and harder to keep up with a big persona that isn’t at all you. as lucky as you are to live such a lavish lifestyle, you can’t help but hate how your family has to be so perfect. you hate how you have never fit in with them, even if you are so good at faking it. you hate how you have always been stuck in your sister’s shadow, constantly haunted with the reminder that you yourself aren’t good enough. you hate how you now have to entertain the rich and brainless guests at your parent’s gala because she’s gone for some stupid prodigy competition and everyone is only talking about her in front of your face. so what if she’s better the better sister? you still have the right to earn respect, right?

you’re exhausted from all the small talk. your facade gets more brittle by the second under all the pressure. your body feels as if it's gonna give out due to your brain shutting down after all that interacting. you try to keep on going with the night as it unravels itself by being the perfectly poised poster child, trying to make your parents proud. but alive yet almost completely devoid, you decide enough was enough. what if you left right now? no one would notice, would they?

after pulling up your phone discreetly to send a few text messages, you pass through lots of people dressed in gold and finery in a way that wouldn’t have you noticed right away. keep your head down and don’t you dare make eye contact with anyone. nearing the end of the room, grabbing the first glass of whatever alcohol you see and downing it in one gulp, you start walking away as quickly as possible from the ballroom. “ignorant privileged fucks,” you angrily whisper to no one in particular, setting the now empty glass on whatever surface and begin to head to the main exit where no one could spot you running away.

“and what do you think you’re doing here, miss?”

a voice interrupts you, looking up you see that it is your father’s head butler; johnny. he is dressed in a simple black suit that makes him appear taller than he is. his long brown hair is slicked back and his bowtie seems brand new. you have known the man since he started working in your household less than ten years back. you were a reckless child, often trying to find ways to sneak out, finding a way to escape from this life and he sympathized with you. after all, he could barely imagine living your life, never catching a break for yourself and always pretending to be someone you weren’t. he often helped planning when you would sneak out into the night, scheduling things like what time you should leave and what time you should be back, more specifically a time when no one would notice. he would take care of your form of transportation and have your location on at all times, just to be extra safe. as much as he wants you to have fun and have a bit of freedom, he still worries that something might happen to you. because of all this, you two have grown to have a very strong bond. you could confidently say that he is most definitely a parental figure in your life since your parents (and even your sister) are often overseas for work.

“what do you think i’m doing? you think i wanna be in a room with those half-baked bipeds? fuck no!”

“i know, i was just joking. you looked like you were about to explode in there, i wish i could help.” he laughs, pulling out his phone preparing what you might need. “so what will it be for today? the driver? we just need to pay him to keep his mouth shut. a taxi? it’s cheaper than paying the driver, but you still need to pay… not like that’s a problem for you though. maybe an uber would be good enough—“

“actually, i got myself covered. thanks.”

his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows furrow. he looks straight at you in shock. “what do you mean you got yourself covered?”

you look down at your feet, a nervous habit. “i got myself a ride, you don’t need to help me. i’ll be back as soon as dawn comes.”

he raises his eyebrow. “who’s your ride?”

“doesn’t matter,” you glance down at your phone seeing a notification and wave a goodbye, leaving rather suddenly. “i gotta go, i’ll text you when you need to open the gates!”

“y/n! wait! who’s your ride— and she’s gone.” johnny sighs, watching as you run towards the front gates, tossing your stiletto heels away on the grass while you’re at it. he heads back inside, silently hoping you’ll be fine.

knocking the window of the old black mustang parked outside behind the big bushes, the driver rolls down his window and sends the most charming smile.

yuta in his black beanie, long blonde hair, worn out doc martens, signature leather jacket and black skinny jeans. it almost makes you laugh on how he wears the same thing almost everyday but still manages to look so good.

he is most notable for having a big bad boy reputation and you knew that he was the breath of fresh air you needed in your life. a person who can understand having the pressure of having to be or to fulfill your persona. a person you can completely be yourself around. a person who is full of warmth no matter how cold he may seem on the outside.

“get in, princess.”

and that was all you needed. you tiredly walked to the other door and sat yourself in the car. rolling his window back up, he looks at you. you are wearing a simple yet stunning black dress along with silver jewelry adorned on your neck and wrists. your makeup is perfectly done but still struggles to hide the fog in your eyes. he has the sudden urge to clear them away. he softens at the sight of you. no one is perfect, but he finds you being perfect enough without ever having to dress up.

“where to?” he asks as gently as he could. he knows that you are most vulnerable during these moments and that it is hard to finally break down your walls after a day full of stress, so he doesn’t pry immediately. all he wants to do is to keep you here, safe and away from your burdens and for you to stay comfortable with him, even if it couldn't be for long. but is that too selfish of him to ask? he hates how you hate your life and it is taking every bone in his body to not run away with you. but who is he to tell you what to do or what to change anyway? all he can do for now is try to find a way to make you genuinely smile.

“take me anywhere,” you whisper to the latter. “i just want to be as far from myself and my life as possible. miles away or the nearest convenience store, just take the long way home before dawn.”

you look down at the cup holders, spotting an open cigarette box. you tug one out of the nineteen and light it with the lighter you kept in your pocket. you lean back and close your eyes. he only admires as you bring the cigarette to your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke afterwards. letting the radio play quietly, he starts the car and begins to drive away from the mansion. he can’t help but wonder how you (an elegant daughter) and him (a bad boy) are millions of worlds apart, but more similar than you think.

© perhapsthanatos (efa)

[perlukafarinn]

Coffeeshop and Mob au for destiel? :)

(send me two numbers)

The Coffee Hut may just be a front for an illegal money laundering scheme but Dean still takes pride in his work there.

Okay, that’s not exactly true. Their coffee is pretty bad, their selection on baked goods extremely limited, and Dean couldn’t give less of a shit about the difference between a mocha and a macchiato. He really only works here because Dad thinks he needs to prove himself on a smaller project before he can trust him with the heavy stuff.

But for fifteen minutes a week, at around 10:30 am every Tuesday, Dean’s job suddenly becomes the most important task in the world. Because that’s when Cas comes in, ordering his small black coffee in a medium cup that he then drowns in cream and sugar.

Cas is a few years older, an office worker of some sort, and he’s got this dark, handsome and intense thing going for him in spades. He looks at Dean like he’s the only person in the room, like everything he says is important. Dean’s not used to being looked at like that.

It takes only a couple of visits before their usual pleasantries evolve into actual conversations. Before Dean starts looking forward to each Tuesday and taking particular care while getting ready on those mornings. 

Dean is sure the only reason Cas hasn’t asked him out yet is because hitting on someone in the service industry while they’re on the clock is an extremely dick thing to do and Cas is not a dick.

Unfortunately, this means Dean is gonna have to make the first move. It also means actively making Cas a bigger part of his life, potentially dragging him into a world he would never wanna be a part of.

Then again, what’s the harm in a couple of dates? 

If Dean were a better person, he would let Cas walk away, no matter how low the risk to him might be. But he’s not, so the next Tuesday morning, a few minutes before Cas shows up, he takes aside a medium cup and scrawls his name and phone number on it. 

There’s no one else in the shop when Cas arrives. There usually isn’t; what morning rush they have has always dried up around ten and the lunch rush is still an hour away.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas greets him warmly, leaning against the counter.

Dean smiles. “Hey, Cas. Small black coffee in a medium cup, right?”

“Not this time.” 

“Oh.” 

Dean scratches the back of his neck. He’s gonna have to write down his number on another cup, then. A small hitch in his plan; he really didn’t want Cas to see him writing it down, just in case he wasn’t interested. But maybe it’s better this way, now Dean will know for sure that Cas has noticed the number.

“Then what’ll you have?”

“I’m sorry,” Cas says instead of answering.

Sorry about what, Dean doesn’t get a chance to ask, because then he’s reaching into his waistband, pulling out a gun and aiming it at Dean. He’s holding it close to his body, hiding it from anyone who might happen to pass by with practiced ease. 

“Please show me to the back.”

Dean licks his lips, heart hammering. If Cas has been casing out the joint for this long, then chances are good he knows exactly what’s hiding back there. He also knows that Dean is alone in the shop this time of day, that the actual business doesn’t get going until in the afternoon. 

“Come on, man, you don’t have to do this,” Dean still pleads, hoping Cas is just a regular robber who picked a really bad target.

“I’m afraid I do.” 

Cas at least has the good grace to look genuinely sorry, though that isn’t worth much. Was all that flirting just a front, too? Has he been stringing Dean along, buttering him up with flattery just to make him an easier target?

Maybe John had it right. Maybe Dean’s not ready to be in this life. 

“Fine,” Dean says stonily. 

He waits until Cas has joined him behind the counter before moving, keeping him at his side rather than behind him as they enter the back room. He pretends to stub his toe on the threshold, stumbling across it and as Cas reaches out to steady him, elbowing him in the gut hard enough to loosen his grip on the gun.

It goes flying and Dean darts after it but Cas is quicker, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and sending him sprawling to the ground. The gun lands with a clatter somewhere further away, out of reach, and Cas is pinning Dean down to the ground, holding him by both wrists and straddling his thighs.

Dean lets himself go limp, considering his options but having a difficult time thinking. Cas is warm and heavy and he smells so fucking good, and Dean hates that he’s noticing that, because Cas just had a fucking gun pointed at him a few seconds ago. That should be enough to erase any interest he has for the man, and yet.

Cas shifts and it hits Dean then that he’s blushing. Looks like he might not be the only one affected by their current situation.

“You know, Cas, if you wanted to get on top of me that bad, you only had to ask.”

Cas turns even redder. “I don’t want to hurt you, Dean. Just give me what I want and I’ll be on my way.”

Dean flexes his fingers experimentally, heart skipping a beat when Cas tightens his grip around his wrists. 

“Pretty sure my boss wouldn’t like that,” he drawls.

“I could give you protection,” Cas offers immediately. “I have connections to the higher-ups in my organization, we could hide you.”

Dean blinks. He’s grown up in this life, knows the kind of trouble Cas would be taking on to ensure his safety, but he looks completely sincere about his offer. 

He also seems to have no clue about who Dean actually is.

“I can’t betray the family like that,” Dean says slowly, testing that theory.

“I admire your loyalty to your employer but the Winchesters aren’t your family.” Yep, no clue. “Is staying true to them worth risking your life?”

“Is going up against them to protect me worth risking yours?”

Cas hesitates. Then, seeming to have made his mind up about something, “It wouldn’t be as great of a risk for me. I don’t just have connections to the higher-ups, I’m Chuck Shurley’s son.”

Dean’s not sure if he wants to laugh or cry. “Chuck, as in head of the Shurley family Chuck?”

Dean had figured Cas was working for them; the Shurleys are the only ones comparable in power to the Winchesters on the East Coast. The two families have been rivals for decades. The last few years have been marked by an uneasy peace but clearly, Chuck Shurley’s looking to change that.

“If you know who he is, then you know the kind of power he has.” Castiel gazes at him imploringly. It’s almost sweet, the way he’s so intent on protecting Dean. "The Winchesters could never lay a hand on you.”

Dean can use this. “You’d do that for me?”

For a moment, he’s worried he laid it on too thick, his voice too soft with feigned disbelief. Then Cas is nodding, painfully sincere.

“Of course.”

The relief that floods Dean is genuine and he lets it show. Then, to seal the deal, he cranes his neck upwards, closing the scant few inches between them. Cas kisses him back immediately, letting go of one wrist to cup his cheek, and Dean takes his chance. 

He plants his feet on the floor, twisting his hips and rolling them around. Cas makes a surprised noise against his lips but isn’t quick enough on the uptake, and then Dean’s got him pinned, reaching out with his now free hand to grab the gun taped underneath the counter to his right.

He points it at Cas, brutally stomping down the guilt that flickers in his chest at the betrayed look on his face.

“Let go off me,” he commands calmly and after a beat Cas obeys, releasing his grip on Dean’s other wrist.

Dean gets to his feet, gesturing with his gun for Cas to do the same.

“You’re going to walk out of here,” he tells him, “and you’re going to tell your dad that whatever plan he’s got against the Winchesters, he can forget it.”

Cas says nothing. Dean raises his eyebrows, cocking his gun, and finally he nods. 

“Good.” Dean tilts his head, giving Cas a teasing grin. “And just for the record, I never needed your protection. You’re not the only one with connections to the higher-ups.”

Dean can pin-point the exact moment it hits Cas. 

“You’re-”

“Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you.”

Cas stares at him, his expression inscrutable. 

“This isn’t over.”

Dean licks his lips. Cas’ eyes follow the movement and he smiles.

“Not by a long shot,” he agrees. 

[writing-good-vibes]

i waste my time dreaming of you (part 4)

sheriff brackett x f!reader. the awkward morning after chapter. but sheriff is way to nice to let you be worried. WARNING for cringe but nothing else.

The morning light streamed in through the open curtains. A watery light that seemed to move around you.

Squinting tiredly, you froze for a second in this unfamiliar place, until you remembered where you were. Sheriff Brackett’s bed.

You weren’t really sure what to do. This wasn’t a one-night stand, right? You didn’t have to quietly gather your things and politely leave before he woke up. Right?

Shifting to lie on your back, you kept your breathing shallow, as not to wake him before you had fully got your thoughts in check. What were you supposed to do now?

You decided to wait it out. You’d pretend to be asleep until he woke up, and then just roll with it, as though this wasn’t the first time you’d woken up in someone else’s bed, even though he knew full well that it was.

You looked around the room as much as you could without moving too much. There was a stack of folded brown shirts on the chair in the corner. A worn paperback on the night stand. His reading glasses. Two neat stacks of quarters. Alarm clock (10:30 AM). The empty condom wrapper. A framed school picture of Annie.

You looked back at the ceiling.

After a while, you genuinely did almost drift back to sleep, the warmth of the bed and the pale morning light having a lulling effect on you. You were woken again by the Sheriff stirring beside you.

Any confidence you gained last night immediately dissipated. You felt Lee turn over, looking at you.

“Good morning.”

You turned your head, meeting his gaze briefly before looking just over his shoulder instead, “Good morning.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently.

“I’m okay.” You felt a little sore, but otherwise, you were fine. You felt sort… liberated? Like a huge weight had been lifted from you. Not because you’d finally had sex, no that was the last thing that mattered, but because you’d somehow ended up here, and Lee had been so sweet, and for the first time your love was not unrequited.

“Sweetie,” Lee started, and you sensed he was maybe worried.

You looked at him properly, a smile creeping over your face.

“I am okay, I’m great. I’m just a bit,” you laughed, a little embarrassed, “I guess I’m sort of star struck.”

Lee raised his eyebrows in mild surprise, “You don't have to win me over with flattery, sweetie. You’ve already had me won over for a long time.”

Looking away again, you felt a blush rise on your cheeks.

His hand reached out slowly to stroke your cheek.

“It’s true. I’m a lucky man to be chosen by you.”

“Stop,” you giggled, your hand covering his before you moved it, lacing your fingers through his.

He smiled lightly, “How about we make some breakfast?”

“Do you not have to go to work?” you asked. You’d just kind of assumed that, as Sheriff, he never had days off.

“Surprisingly enough,” he began, swinging his legs out of bed and reaching for his boxers. “Even as Sheriff, I do get some time off, too.”

You followed suit with getting dressed, quickly finding your panties and bra. Feeling exposed, you searched for the rest of your clothes, even though the skirt and top you’d worn the previous night weren’t the most comfortable for a casual breakfast.

Lee noticed you hesitate and, pulling a t-shirt on he said, “I can lend you some more comfortable clothes for today, if you would like, sweetie?”

“Only if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don't, it’s the least I can do.”

He went over to the dresser and pulled out two pairs of pyjamas pants and a t-shirt. He hands the pyjama set to you and pulls on the other pants.

Holding his clothes for a second, you thought about all the clichés that were strangely coming true. Nice sex. Clothes sharing. Breakfast?

Quickly, you got dressed, pulling the drawstring on the pants tight to hold them up.

“So, breakfast,” Lee said again, as you both headed downstairs, “Now, I’m not much of a cook, but what can I perhaps tempt you with?”

“Whatever you want,” you said. Normally you didn’t eat breakfast, you’d stopped doing so in high school (with early mornings not being conducive to your appetite) and it had stuck around as a habit. “I should probably let my parents know that I won’t be home till later on.”

Lee almost seemed embarrassed, cringing for a second before relaxing, as not to worry you. “Of course, sweetie. I’ll get started on the,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “Toast and jelly?”

You laugh as you search for your cell phone in your coat pocket, “Sounds divine.”

Sending a text to your mom, letting her know you’d likely be home that afternoon at the earliest, you put your cell back in your coat and joined Lee in the kitchen.

As promised, he was making toast, a few slices already done and put on a plate whilst more cooked in the toaster.

“There’s butter and jelly in the fridge, if you want to get it?” he suggested, getting a knife from one of the kitchen drawers.

“Sure,” you replied absently. You had to psyche yourself up while your back was turned to him before saying “I told my mom I wouldn’t be home till this afternoon.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you returned to the counter with the butter and jelly, strawberry flavour, “So I can stay here for quite a while.”

“I can’t say I'm disappointed by the company. Especially on my day off.”

You smiled at his flattery.

***

Together you ate breakfast, which felt like something of a novelty to you. You buttered your toast lavishly, enjoying the warm domesticity it stirred within you.

After eating, you sat for a while, your legs slung over his lap, in the living room. Daytime TV played idly in the background as you and Lee talked. Talked about your jobs and what you had been reading lately and that you had started to think about what you maybe wanted to do in life.

“You’ll figure it out,” the Sheriff said sincerely, his hand running over your calf reassuring. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do for a long time.”

“You didn’t always want to be Sheriff?”

“No, no,” he shrugged, “My dad was Sheriff, back in his day, and I didn’t have much of anything going on so I joined and now, here I am.”

“That is pretty reassuring.”

He seemed satisfied by your answer. You wasted away some more time just sitting comfortably together until lunch time rolled around. Lee reiterated that he wasn’t much of a chef, and you laughed, agreeing that sandwiches were more than good enough for you.

As you stood at the counter, buttering slices of bread, Lee said, “Sweetie, I think we should talk about what’s going on here.”

That didn’t sound good?

“What do you mean?” you asked. The worry in your voice was apparently more evident than you thought it would be, as Lee’s eyes widened in a mild panic.

“Oh no, sweetie, nothing bad. I just mean, I have… enjoyed our time together, very much. But I want you to know that you don't have to feel obliged to – to do anything. See me again, I mean.”

It was almost funny how relieved you were, but you quickly replied, as to not make him think you were reconsidering. “I definitely want to see you again. I’d be happy if I only ever saw you again.”

He chuckled bashfully, but there was a deepness to his voice when he said, “You don't know what that does to me, hearing you say that.”

You stopped what you were doing in the sandwich preparing sense and looked over at him. This was a sign, right? “I think I do.”

[dameferre]

can we see a snippet from the "penpals!" courferre one :0

of course! i will warn you this will. most likely never see the light of day BUT it’s based off of ‘the year of secret assignments’ by jaclyn moriarty, a... kind of ridiculous book i bought at a charity shop at like. age 10? or something

basically these three sets of teenagers are assigned pen pals at a neighboring school, and hijinks ensue, with one set of penpals giving each other secret assignments (hence the title), the other set of penpals being a girl who writes to a guy who uses a fake name (that plotline ends horribly, it would not have done so in my fic lmao)

one finally one set of penpals (a boy and a girl) decide to start having practice dates, so the guy can hone his skills and ask out a girl he likes, and the girl can critique his form, and... i mean i think we all know how this goes.

anyway, it’s half in letter format, half actual writing the story. here’s a snip! (under the cut because i. couldn’t help myself)

Official Assessment of the Second Meeting By Chance executed by The Lord of Flowers, Combeferre, henceforth referred to as the Subject, as reviewed by Courfeyrac the Ravishing, henceforth referred to as The Operative.

NOTES

When the Operative (and Guest) approached, the Subject smiled very nicely. It was a sort of surprised, warm smile that lit up his face. Did the Subject practice his ‘oh I was hoping to see you and I’m so glad I have’ smile in the mirror?

The Subject did a very good job of consoling the Guest, and as it turns out, the Subject’s height is not as offensive as previously thought, as he holds an umbrella perfectly.

The Subject was much more relaxed this time, and funny, and his hair fluffed a little in the humidity which was adorable. He had a great way of explaining things to the Operative without being patronising, and teased admirably. The Operative spent a good 80% of the walk laughing, but upon writing report can’t remember a specific instance of hilarity. The Subject should have more memorable jokes next time.

Overall, great work Combeferre. You’ll have Feuilly falling over himself to get to you in no time.

Yours,

Courfeyrac the Ravishing

--

Courfeyrac,

You seem to be losing your touch; that last review lacked the mildly insulting bluntness I’ve grown so accustomed to. Does this mean we’re becoming friends?

Anyway, I’m now, as you would say, ‘balls-deep in tech week’ and halfway through my descent into the deepest pit of hell. The entire production is an original script written by a friend of mine, named Jehan Prouvaire, who decided to rewrite the final scene this weekend. They’re my friend, have been for years, but even I wanted to murder them slowly. The cast is hard at work trying to learn the scene, while I had to stay late last night redoing all the cues.

The worst part of it is, the new ending is fucking fantastic, so we can’t even stay mad at them.

It’s exhausting. Literally exhausting; I got three hours of sleep last night.

Anyway, I’m writing this as a way of avoiding calculus homework. Not that I wouldn’t write to you if I didn’t have calculus homework, but it is harder to just ramble on about my life now that we’ve met in person. I don’t think I ever would have told you about Feuilly if we had met before we started writing. There was something in the anonymity that made it easier, like writing into a diary. I hope you don’t take this as an insult- what I mean to say is that now that I know you, I want you to like me. And by extension, I want you to know a lot less about exactly how lame I am.

Anyway, I wanted to say I won’t be able to make a meeting by chance this week, though I know telling you that ruins some of the fun. If I’m around next week, which is really looking less and less likely every time an actor misplaces a prop or mic pack and I am forced, once again, to weigh the pros and cons of murder, I’d be happy to accidentally run into you on my way home from school.

Side note- Avi(my brother) comes home next week, which lines up nicely with Mom’s birthday and means he’ll be able to see the show. It’ll be nice to have him back. I think you’d like him; he’s the attractive one in the family, and the extrovert. He’s also a mechanical engineer who medal-ed in track when he was my age. Basically, he got all the good genes, but he’s too nice to admit it.

Anyway, calculus beckons.

See you on the other side, Combeferre

p.s. Only you would practice a smile. Mine was genuine, I swear.

--

My Dearest Combeferre,

FIRST DAY OF PRACTICE STARTS TOMORROW HELL YEAH

I mean, yes, technically the other guys on my team have been practicing for two weeks but I have sadly been out of commission. BUT NOT ANYMORE BABY THE BITCH IS BACK

This will help distract me from the pain and yearning as I wait a whole week to see you again. I’ll be wistfully wandering the moors before Saturday, mark my words.

I’m also fascinated by the idea of a brother who’s you, but more attractive. Does it hurt to look at him directly? Do strangers fall in love on the spot? Is he officially considered a menace to society because he’s caused traffic accidents and ruined weddings by walking past at the wrong moment?

Someone should put a stop to him before things get out of control! No man should wield such power.

The idea that you, of gorgeous cheekbones, perfect hair, jawline, and eyes and face in general, notorious multi-tasker, valedictorian and walking encyclopedia, not to mention polyglot, could think someone else got the good genes means either you are humble to the point of actively lying to yourself or your brother is a minor deity.

Courfeyrac, I can hear you saying, flattery really isn’t necessary.

But it is! Enjolras, who I’ve mentioned before and is my best friend in the whole world, is gorgeous to the point of being inconvenient to look at. I’m a notorious flirt, I know this, and I’m good at it, but we’re not even in the same league when it comes to making people question their sexualities. He walks into a room and you can see half the people inside mentally decide they’re bi-curious. He’s also a raving lunatic and antagonistic asshole, which he openly accepts and takes pride in, but try to tell him he’s attractive and he looks at you like you’ve just suggested he’s got wings or a tail. So what I’m trying to say, I think, is that I’m used to people not realising how good looking they are. And bludgeoning them with compliments is my way of dealing with this.

Anyway. Getting sidetracked.

I’m flattered you use me as a method of procrastination! I’m gonna make myself a button that says ‘more interesting than calculus’ and wear it with pride. Also, is writing to pen pals not mandatory at the Academy? We’re given a half hour block during the study period. When we first started, Enjolras said the whole thing was “infantile and outdated and a waste of time”, but at this very moment he is on page six (6) of his latest aggressive correspondence to his mystery R, even though I saw what R sent him last time and it was, I shit you not, an envelope that was empty except for a tiny (approx. 3 centimeters long) rubber chicken. For context, the one before was a thorough analysis of wage inequality written entirely in pig latin.

I hope one day I meet this person, even if immediately afterwards they steal my kidney or turn me into a newt or whatever minor trickster gods do these days to pass the time when they’re not torturing my best friend.

Anyway, gotta go, stay sane, don’t kill anyone unless you really have to, and if so lemme know and I’ll help you get rid of the body. I know a guy.

Courfeyrac

p.s. I already like you, idiot.

[sanscestships]

“No.” College!AU (GenoxReaper)

Created on: 1/15/21

Requested by: No one. Just decided to do Afterdeath now.

still waiting for requests ;w;

Note from: 1/25/21

sorry if the ending's bad. i was a little rushed since i'd already been stalling this story by 10 days.

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

"No." Geno stated firmly as he folded his arms and glared down at the moronic figure laying on his couch.

"But Geeeennn~" The biology major whined, looking up at the scarfed skeleton. "It's so comfyyyy!"

"No Reaper, now get up and start doing something productive." The eyepatched skeleton gestured to the second mug of coffee on the corner table. "Finals are coming up, meaning it's time to study."

"It's fiinnee! I'm smart enough to barely pass and we all know you'll ace them as usual so come sleep with me here on this comfy couch!" The skeleton in the large black hoodie started to sit up, patting on the seat next to him. "There's still room for a beautiful skeleton ya know!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere when dealing with me, Death." The apparently 'beautiful' skeleton rolled his eyelight, trying to remember why he puts up with this idiot in the first place. "Now get off the couch. If you get ready within 10 minutes, we can go do our studying at Crackbucks."

"STARBUCKS?!" With that magic word, Reaper fell face flat off the couch before scrambling through the dorm to change. Honestly, Geno didn't know why he hasn't filed for a new dormmate yet. While he keeps on insisting to Reaper that it's because he doesn't want to end up with an even worse roommate like the salty Leviathan or memelord Epic, the other keeps persisting in stating that he genuinely enjoyed his company.

He didn't. He really didn't. There was no way in Hell Geno actually liked putting up with Reaper's antics. He just didn't want to deal with anyone worse.

As Geno had just listed, while Reaper was certainly childish and teased him often, at least he wasn't an alcoholic who swore up a storm or a prankster who was probably less serious than even Reaper or a proud asshole with an ego the size of the Empire State building like Red's brother, Edge. And with his luck, he doubted he would be able to get anyone decent like maybe Blue.

At least Blue didn't laze around when the finals are coming around the corner.

Sighing, the glitchy skeleton wrapped his scarf around his neck and started to grab his jacket to go out. With how obsessed with coffee Reaper was, he had no doubt he'd be down before even 5 minutes. And as usual, he was right. Within 3 minutes Reaper was hopping over putting on his socks with a different hoodie and jeans ready to go down several cups of coffee.

                                                         ~ >:3 ~

The drive there was... Rough. Apparently a lot of other students also had the idea of studying at Crackbucks since not only was there a bit of traffic, but there was a long fucking line that led to outside the store too. Groaning, Geno decided to test his luck once more.

"Looks like the place is already full, we should go to a different Crackbucks," Geno suggested while the other cocked his head to the side.

"If we leave our place in line, it'll just take longer. The other cafes are probably full too. Might as well wait. Besides, I don't mind having an audience~" The scarred skeleton gave him an 'are you fucking kidding me right now?' look as Reaper just gave him an innocent look.

"Reaper I swear- You know what? Fine. But we're going to study while we wait since that's what we came here to do."

"That's what you came to do," Reaper corrected. "I'm here purely for my caffeine. But if it makes you happy Gen~"

"What would make me happy would be you not using that tone nor flirting with me," he groaned, dearly wanting to get to studying as soon as possible. "now take your book out and get ready to spend the next half an hour studying in silence."

"But Geeennn~ We're here to study together aren't-"

"Reaper." Geno interrupted the skeleton dressed in black, making the face he usually makes when he's about to spit out facts. "You're a biology major, I'm an engineer major. And we barely have any of the same subjects. In fact, the only subject we have together is the English Literature Course. That means the only subject we can actually study together on is English."

"... Oh." Reaper blinked his sockets, presumably realizing that Geno was, once again, right. That really was the only subject they had together. It was also the only class they had together too. "But Geenn~ Can't we study that together then?"

He wanted to say no again. He wanted to say no and that he had a math test first thing in a few days. But, he'd already reviewed his notes last night and they had their english test together afterwards.

"Fine-"

"YES!" Everyone around began to turn and look at him and Reaper bounced about like a kid at a candy store.  Why was he reacting like this? All he did was say he'd agree to studying on the same subject with him? What about it was so exciting?

Did he really say "no" that often? He knew that sometimes he could be a bit overbearing, but he always had his reasons. After all, he was surrounded by a bunch of idiots.

How does one remain sane when dealing with a screeching knitting idiot, a forgetful idiot that pranks everyone with buckets of paint, a grumpy cat idiot and his semi-sane brother, two meme idiots, a flirtacious idiot, a hyperactive idiot, an emo idiot, and a trio of stabby idiots?

He suddenly found himself at the front of the line, Reaper next to him ordering 6 coffee lattes at the register. Suddenly aware of his surroundings, he shoved his hands into his pockets and embarrassingly let his eyes wander the store at random. Fuck, had he really been thinking about that for half an hour? Possibly even more? God, it would be horrible if this ended up being a habit. While his grades were pretty decent as it was, he didn't want to risk falling behind or spacing out to occur while he tried to study.

He tried to pay more attention this time, watching the employee and Reaper talk as Reaper pulled out his wallet and paid for the drinks. Geno couldn't be any more relieved now. Now he could focus on something productive like studying instead of standing around thinking of himself and those idiot friends of his.

"Geno?" He found himself in front of the deserts, Reaper right next to him looking over his shoulder. "Geno, are you okay? You've been just staring at everything silently for a while. Thinking about the finals?"

The determined of the two was a little surprised that the other didn't try to take the opportunity to flirt. He actually seemed serious right at that moment. "Yeah, just a little worried. Hopefully this study session helps out. It's not healthy to do a last minute cram."

"Ha, knowing you you've probably already got the material down!" Reaper chuckled as he quickly looked away, feeling a little flushed. Why did Reaper think so highly of him? Hell, why did he always insist on flirting with him? Wouldn't he have more fun flirting with someone who would actually flirt back like Killer or Lust?

Geno began to walk past Reaper, taking a seat at a table in the back corner where he could have privacy. He didn't like people trying to peek in on what he was doing no matter how trivial it was. He liked his space and privacy, thank you very much. Hiding his embarrassment, he pulled out his textbook from his bag and started to read through the material for English.

The other skeleton sat down with him, rummaging through his own bag before his eyelight fell on the book in Geno's hands. "Isn't that your English text book?"

"Yes, it is." Geno cocked a brow at him as the realization seemed to hit Reaper. Suddenly with a stupid grin of glee, he immediately started digging back through his bag to get his own textbook.

The idiot in black glanced back at the register before looking back at Geno, said skeleton giving him a questioning look before he finally popped the question. "Hey, Geno."

"What is it, Reaper?"

"Do... Do you wanna go to the park with me once finals are over? Just to, you know, relax once finals are done?"

He paused for a moment, opening his mouth to say 'no' and that he'd be busy getting ready for the next semester before hesitation. Reaper did have a point about taking a break once finals were done. He knew all too well what too much stress could do to you. Besides...

He put his book down flat on the table, looking up with a slight smile saying 'well what can I really do?' before giving his answer.

"Yes. I think I'd like that, Reaper."