#if anyone knows what tags work for stuff like this pleas let me know

[wikipediafag]

I am Mahmoud Helles, the owner of the donation campaign. The campaign aims to expel my family from Gaza and expel my wife to Egypt due to her serious condition with a kidney injury. Please enter my page and then share. https://gofund.me/53fa2830🌹🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🌹😭😭😭

Yes, of course i will share — Wishing all of you well. I will be participating & i hope and ask that my followers and mutuals will too

As detailed in their posts & gofundme, Mahmoud needs help for his four children and his wife. They have repeatedly faced displacement in Gaza over the course of five years. His wife requires URGENT medical treatment for her kidneys, and, in Mahmoud's words "her condition is deteriorating due to the lack of treatment". More information is on his page, @hillesmahmoud, as well as the GFM link above.

PLEASE CONSIDER D0NATING. EVERY DOLLAR COUNTS.

this gfm was vetted by @/fallahifag and @/el-shab-hussein vetted fundraisers masterpost, number 170

[awesumsaus]

pretty when I cry

wc: 6k

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: what was meant to be a slow relaxing morning after a night out with joel turns into something much more.

a/n: so I’ve been trying to work out the rest of my tlou series but couldn’t get this idea out of my head. it’s entirely self-indulgent, absolute filth, literally inspired by porn (but with feelings). pls skip if you’re not comfortable with anything outlined in the warnings/tags, otherwise hope y’all enjoy :] (and if anyone has any interest in a part two lmk bc I may or may not have some ideas lolol)

warnings/tags: explicit 18+ (minors dni), no outbreak au, softdom!joel, smut with a hint of plot, established relationship, age gap, reader is described as small/little but also curvy, hints of possessive!joel, daddy kink, almost dd/lg dynamics, subspace, oral (f receiving), slight somnophilia (very consensual), size kink, dirty talk, so many petnames (baby, honey, pretty girl, little girl), painful sex but Joel is a consent king, aftercare, fingering, *cough* butt stuff *cough*, unprotected pinv, squirting, barely proofread sorry

It wasn’t uncommon, for you to wake up like this, Joel’s head of salt and pepper curls dipped below the covers, his mouth eagerly pulling an orgasm from your pliant body. So it comes as no surprise when you’re roused awake by the sound of your own whines and whimpers, slipping through your lips like soft little pleas. Your tired eyes shift to the top of his head, the sheets bunched at his wide shoulders, leaving you bare and exposed to the cool morning breeze blowing through the open bedroom window. 

He works in slow languid movements, yet he has you gushing around his tongue nonetheless, his mouth warm and wet against your dripping sex, still soft and swollen from the previous night’s activities. You’d fallen asleep, damp and sticky, only after he’d pounded you into his mattress until the early hours of the morning. 

Upon waking, the feeling of his cum still dripping out of you, legs wrapped around one of his dense thighs, it drove him positively insane. It didn’t matter how peacefully asleep you were, how steadily you drew breaths between your plush lips, he had to have you the moment his eyes set on you.  

He senses you’re awake when your fingers delicately twist through the curls at the crown of his head. He hums contentedly against you, the vibrations making your eyes fall closed once more as wanting sounds slip past your lips. You’d never been one for religion, but seeing Joel for the past several months has you questioning everything. The way his mouth moves against your pulsing core leaves you with no choice but to believe in some higher power, some celestial being that deemed you lucky enough to allow a man like Joel into your life.

He pulls away from your messy cunt and you whine at the loss. Your glossed over eyes meeting his with pupils blown wide. “Mornin’ pretty girl,” he says, his voice gruff and his lips shining with your slick. The sight sends another wave of warmth straight to your core. 

“Hi,” you say, tone gentle and weary with sleep. A timid smile spreads across your lips as you run a hand through his scruff. No matter how many times you wake up next to him, how many times he fucks you senseless, you always manage to grow shy under his salacious stare. 

He plants a fleeting kiss to your clit and you shudder, you can feel him smirk even as your gaze shifts to the ceiling above you. Your hand unknowingly grips his hair tighter and urges him towards where you need him most, not even noticing your own action until you hear Joel let out an amused chuckle. 

“So needy for me, huh baby?” He runs a hand from your thigh over the curve of your hip, his touch featherlight over the certain spot by your hipbone that he knows drives you wild. His fingers end splayed across your lower belly, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin. 

“Always need you, daddy,” you say, only slightly above a whisper, a small buck of your hips to get your point across. The petname has his already half hard cock twitching against the sheets, his other hand instinctively squeezes the flesh of your hip. 

With no warning, his lips are on you again, his pace now fast and increasingly sloppy. He eats at you like a man starved, his curved nose rubbing against your clit with each of his movements. The intensity of it all makes your head spin and your cunt clench around nothing. A ghosting pain lingers in your lower half, another reminder of the evening prior. 

The two of you had gone out, like you often did on Friday nights, deciding on a new spot downtown. Joel was hesitant at first, having heard it was more popular with the younger crowd, more catered to people your age. But he’d learned early in your relationship that saying no to you was nearly impossible, with your big doe eyes and sweet pleading smiles, he rarely had it in him to deny anything your little heart desired. 

But God, the little black dress you wore nearly had him throwing you over his shoulder and locking you away in his bedroom for only his eyes to ever behold. Joel would never admit to being the possessive type. He knew what other men saw in you, wide eyed and sweet, kind beyond reason, with a gorgeous smile and beautiful curves. He saw the way they’d look at you, saw the way their eyes followed your perfect form, like predators stalking their prey.

He would never admit to being the possessive type, but his incessant grip around your waist in every public space and the death glares he’d send any man that looked your way proved otherwise. And despite your attempts to dissuade his arrogance, there was a part of you that craved to be claimed, to be marked as his. 

The week had been long and draining. Your overbearing boss forced you to work overtime into the late hours of the evening nearly every night, and with Joel’s days often starting as early as 5am, he was usually sound asleep by the time you’d managed to feed yourself and drag your exhausted corpse to bed. 

To no fault of his own, Joel hadn’t paid much attention to you this week, leaving you feeling neglected and irritated despite his generally relentless attentiveness towards you. And so you decided to toy with him, always testing his limits and seeing how far you can go before he snaps. You wouldn’t admit it, but you kinda liked him a little angry. 

And boy was it easy to get a rise out of him, especially dressed the way you were, your ass only just covered and your tits spilling over the tight corset-like top of your dress. You had his blood boiling before the two of you even left his house. When you finally walked through the bar entrance, Joel was like a guard dog, his arm wrapped tightly around your lower waist, a permanent scowl imprinted on his face towards the many male bar goers that ogled you. He had you tucked so close to his body you were nearly tripping over his feet with each of your steps. 

After your first drink you were feeling antsy, and a bit too bold for you own good, and so you flirted with them, boys you had not a single shred of interest in, laughed at their jokes and accepted their offers to buy you drinks, all the while glancing back at Joel, biting your lip, trying not to giggle at his grimace and the way redness began spreading up his neck. You’d retreat back to your table, to Joel, prizes in hand, and feign innocence when he’d question what you were up to. 

“What do y’ think you’re doin’,” he questioned after you had slipped away to the bar a second time under the guise of needing to use the restroom. You padded up to him, slotting yourself between his thighs, twirling the straw in your drink between your fingers. Even sitting on the barstool he towered over you. 

“Nothin’, daddy.” You looked up at him through your lashes, knowing fully well what your words did to him. You brought the hand that wasn’t holding your drink to his upper thigh, you could feel the muscle tense as you slid your way up, up, up. 

“Watch it, little girl.“ He grabbed your wrist, hard. You instinctively tried to pull away, but his grip was firm. He jerked you towards him, your chests nearly touching before bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly, a stark contrast to the death grip he still had on your wrist. 

His voice was low, a sign of warning. “F’ you want somethin’ from me, all you gotta do is ask, darlin’.” 

You huffed and pouted slightly when he released you, ignoring the fact that your actions resembled those of a petulant child. Despite knowing that he would give you anything you asked of him, having proved it to you countless times over the course of your relationship, the neglected feeling in your chest grew. You didn’t want to ask, sick of making decisions and telling others what to do after the week you’d had. You wanted him to take. 

It was after your third disappearance, this time to actually use the restroom, that Joel snapped. Passing by the bar, one of the young men that bought you a drink attempted to stop you in your tracks. You didn’t pay him much attention, just smiled and nodded at his words, quietly trying to slip by. But then his hands were on you, grabbing your waist in a way that made your stomach turn. You hadn’t even had time to register a response, to push him away and run back to Joel, before his hands were leaving your body and being replaced by much larger ones, rough and calloused. Joel’s hands. 

“We’re leaving, now,” he grunted, pulling you by the back of your arm towards the exit. It was only after he’d practically thrown you into the passenger’s seat of his truck that you knew you were in for it. 

You’d barely made it to the front door before he was ripping the fabric of your little black dress from your body, letting the torn pieces fall to the floor. Immediately you’d attempted to scold him, it was one of your favorites, but couldn’t get a word in before he was throwing your bare body over his shoulder and carrying you to his bedroom, promising he’d buy you as many dresses as you wanted if you’d shut up and let him have his way with you, let him fuck you stupid, until the only thoughts going through your head were Joel, Joel, Joel.

He spent the following hours relentlessly pulling orgasm after orgasm from your pliable body, impaling you on his thick cock until hot tears streamed down your cheeks. 

“I know, baby,” he said from his place behind you, your limp whimpering form draped across the edge of the bed. “Just needed to be reminded who you belong to, huh?” His voice was mocking, but with a certain sincerity that made your cunt clench even harder around him. 

“Yours, daddy,” was all you could manage before you came around his cock for what felt like the hundredth time that night. 

Needless to say you were feeling extra sensitive this morning, Joel was hyper aware of this fact, yet the feeling of his tongue repeatedly diving into your abused hole had you begging for more. “Need you inside,” you say despite the hurt. Joel holds back a groan at your pleas, needy little thing. He pulls away just slightly to meet your gaze, his breath still hot against your core. 

“Not gonna put my cock in you, honey.” The finality in his voice makes your heart drop and tears prick in the corners of your eyes. You were always like this in the mornings, he had come to notice, sensitive, soft, often emotionally even more so than physically. Joel had always been an assured man, never impulsive or reckless in his actions, always thoughtful and never selfish. But with you he’d learned patience. He’d learned to hold your emotions in the palm of his hand with a certain gentleness he never knew himself capable of. He’d learned you often needed more time than most to become placid, to settle, and so it became almost a sense of his, knowing when to take and when to give, even when you weren’t sure yourself.  

“Please-“ you whine, tears in your voice. His big brown eyes soften when they meet yours, his resolve slipping only momentarily while he moves to kiss the inside of each of your thighs. 

“Not gonna convince me, baby.” he tuts. “Can’t take me yet.” He moves higher, nuzzles into the soft skin above your clit. You let out a small gasp when he starts sucking harshly, surely leaving a bruise, a mark that only he will ever see. 

“I can. I promise.” You wriggle in his hold, feel your wetness drip onto the sheets. He nips the spot and pulls away. 

“Quit.” He pins your hips harder, his eyes meeting yours once more. “Maybe if you hadn’t been such a goddamn tease last night I wouldn’t’ve had to wreck this perfect little pussy.” He runs a finger through your folds as he says it and you tense slightly. He raises an eyebrow at you, an I told you so look, you huff in frustration, yet you relax in his hold. 

“You ready to be good f’ me, baby?” His voice seeps through your ears like honey, your mind beginning to wander to that all too familiar headspace you often turned to in these moments. You nod your head, eyes hooded. Joel senses the shift. “You’re gonna take whatever daddy gives you yeah?”

“Yes,” you gasp as you feel just the tip of his index finger probe your dripping hole, Joel gauging your response. 

“N’ then what d’ you say?” He twists his finger inside you and pushes in just to his first knuckle, the stretch already intense given your increased sensitivity. 

“Thank you, daddy,” you sigh, not a single shred of fight left in you. A devilish smirk spreads across his face. 

“Good girl.”

His hands are on the backs of both your thighs, hiking your legs up so that they’re pressed firmly against your chest, your glistening folds on full display. You shiver as the cool morning air hits where you’re most vulnerable. He then pushes your knees apart, situating himself so that his mouth is only inches from your core while still holding you in place, your legs spread obscenely wide to accommodate the breadth of his shoulders. 

He spits directly on your clit and watches as it drips down your cunt, combining with the mess of wet already there. It’s entirely unnecessary, but it’s how Joel likes you, filthy with his cum and spit and your own slick. You tremble as he smooths his hand over your mound, his undivided attention on the mess he’s creating. When he’s satisfied, the pad of his thumb finds your clit, rubbing small circles into the bundle of nerves, making your hips buck once more.

He pauses his movements, his eyes dark and entirely void of any sense of leniency. “Not gonna tell you again.” A tear pools in your lower lashes at the loss of his touch, your breathing goes shaky. 

“So pretty when you cry f’ me, honey,” his tone mocking. “Almost as pretty as when you come for me.”

His mouth is back on you, even more ravening and unrelenting than before. You have to bite down on your pillow to prevent yourself from screaming when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his warm mouth. Every cell in your body is screaming for his touch, needing more, more, more. You want to be enveloped by him by not just his mouth, but every part of him. You have the sudden desire to crawl under his skin, make a home for yourself there, where all you can ever feel is him, him, him. 

The peaceful sound of birds chirping outside the window is drowned out by your cries and the pornographic squelches of your wet sex. Your vision blurs as his tongue plunges in and out of you. 

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” he pulls away for only a second, his eyes not leaving your center as he anchors his thick arms under your ass and thighs, bringing your cunt impossibly closer to his eager mouth.  

Joel knows your body, knows what every twitch and minor shift means, how your breathing quickens when he’s brought you right to the edge, the sounds you make when you’ve completely given in, forfeited all control. And he senses it, when his thumb presses against the cleft of your ass, and a moan slips from deep within your throat, that he’s uncovered something, something that makes his cock twitch and drip onto the sheets below him. 

He pulls away quick, too quick, and your face burns, the fleeting sensation prompting a new surge of desire in the pit of your stomach. The feeling was foreign, a bit startling, but in a way that left you longing for more. If you were to trust anyone to delve into this part of yourself, this uncharted territory, it would be Joel. It would always be Joel. He knew how to take care of you better than any man you’d ever known. With him you were safe, you were heard, cherished and adored. With him there was no emotion too big or too small, no desire left unsated. 

“Joel-“ you breath. “Joel, baby. I want-“

He pulls away from you, a knowing look in his glassed over eyes. “What is it, honey? What d’ you want?”

He can’t help himself and licks a long strip from your asshole to your clit, moaning at the taste. “Fuck- Joel,” you cry out, a drop of sweat falling to your forehead. “Want- want your fingers.”

“Where d’ you want my fingers, baby.” He says it more like a command than a question, but you can’t respond, your head falling back as he starts lapping at your clit. “You want them in this sweet little cunt?” He prods one of his thick fingers at your opening, but quickly pulls away, leaving you clenching around nothing. 

You bite your lip, eyes hooded. “Mm,” you shake your head. His eyes are nearly black now, something unhinged, sinful behind his gaze. He knows what you want, the seed already planted in his insatiable brain, but he wasn’t going to give in to your pleads that easily. 

“Dirty girl.” His voice has dropped an octave. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please, daddy” you squirm, tears pooling at your waterline, threatening to fall at any second. His hardened grip on your hips softens for a moment before he’s turning his head and biting the inside of your thigh, hard. You gasp, a tear rolls down your cheek. “Use your words.”

“I wan- I-I don’t-,” you babble, the tears now flowing freely, leaving wet trails down your cheeks. He lets you choke on your words for a moment, not once tearing his eyes away from yours. 

“Oh honey, I know s’ hard,” he soothes, sliding his hand along the curve of your ass. Your tears slow. “S’okay. Daddy’s gonna give you what you need. No more cryin’.”

You sniffle, a small smile spreading across your face at his words. You always had a way of making him cave.

His expression goes serious for a moment. “What’s your safe word?” Red. “And you’ll use it if you want me to stop?” Mhm. “Repeat it.” His commanding tone sends a chill down your spine. “If I want you to stop, I’ll say red,” you say softly and run a hand through his curls, wet with a mixture of your sweat and his own. 

“Fuck, baby. Gonna make you feel so good,” he says more to himself than you. Your brain turns to absolute mush when his mouth meets your skin once again. 

Even with his head between your legs, even when he’s on his knees for you, he’s the one in charge, the one that dictates your every move. How your body twists and bends to his will. He decides when you get to cum, decides when you’ve earned it. And there’s a certain feeling that comes with it, this loss of autonomy, a sense of ease and security created by a total loss of control. No other man you’ve been with has understood, most of them only seeking to fulfill their own selfish wants. But Joel knows, having understood this unfamiliar part of you almost as soon as the two of you met, knowing exactly how to satiate that little corner of your brain that craves submission. 

You suck in a sharp breath when you feel his calloused thumb return to your tight hole, tensing a bit when he adds more pressure. 

“Relax, baby.” And you do, your muscles go lax almost immediately and the furrow in your brow softens. You exhale a moan as he begins kissing your cunt, avoiding your most sensitive areas so that he can keep you focused on the feeling of his thumb pushing into you. 

“Fu- fuck, Joel!” You basically shriek when the tip of his thumb breeches the ring of muscle, it’s already all consuming, already so full.

He retracts his thumb and you let out a choked sound before he brings his thick finger to your wetness, gathering slick on the pad of his thumb before resuming his unrushed stretching of your virgin hole. 

“More ngh- please.” He prods you painfully slow, assessing your every reaction as his knuckle plunges into you. 

“Uh-uh. Don’t care how nice n’ polite you ask, baby. Not gonna ruin this little hole.” He plants wet kisses along your seam. “Not yet,” he says almost inaudibly against your mound before devouring you once more. The promise of more makes something in your brain snap, all the shyness and trepidations from before gone in one fleeting moment. 

He stretches you slowly, the speed of his mouth quickening and his thumb beginning to slide more easily in and out of you. You’re entirely lost in the feeling, completely overwhelmed by the pressure and the speed of his tongue on your clit. You cry out when he removes his thumb, replacing it with his middle finger, and dipping his freed digit into your cunt, completely overcome, overstimulated in the best way. 

It’s too much, but not enough. But no, it’s too much. He’s everywhere, in your cunt, your ass, your head. All you can think is how anything in life could ever feel this good. How anyone can be this good, this knowing of your every want, every need. The thought makes tears pinch at the corner of your eyes. 

His gaze is fixed on you, every twitch, every shift. He nearly comes at the sight of you grinding down on his fingers. That’s it baby, fuck yourself on my fingers. His movements slow, your orgasm begins to fade and you whine. You’re not even thinking when you bring your delicate fingers to your clit and trace small circles against the bundle of nerves. Joel immediately grabs your hand and pins it to your lower stomach, nearly growling against your skin. Any other time he’d have you bent over his knee for not asking permission, but he’s so drunk on you, so dead-set on making you come apart, he lets this one slide. 

“Need t’ come so bad, huh baby?” You nod your head furiously, a few more tears slipping down your cheeks. “Go ‘head n’ ask for it then, baby. Nice n’ polite like I know you can.”

“Please daddy, please let me come.” You barely register the words falling from your mouth, but the proud look on Joel’s face tells you all you need to know.

It doesn’t take much to send you over the edge. He sucks harshly on your clit, pulling it into his mouth, while his thick fingers work each of your holes. His hand holding yours presses harder, harder, harder until the tension snaps and you’re screaming, sobbing out as you gush around him, soaking his scruff to the point that your slick drips from his chin and onto the already drenched sheets. He works you through it, curling his fingers into your cunt so that another warm stream of slick hits his tongue. And he takes, not letting a single drop go to waste as he laps at you. 

Your head is still buzzing when he finally ceases his movements, the shockwaves of your orgasm still flowing through you making your whole body shake. Your muscles convulse as he slowly pulls his fingers from your core. 

With blurred vision you watch him stand at the end of the bed, his cock painfully hard, red and leaking. You hadn’t even considered what all this was doing to him, so lost in your own pleasure from the moment your eyes opened. You have the sudden urge to fall to your knees and take him into your mouth until he comes deep down your throat, but your body is limp, sunk into the mattress below you. You merely watch with hooded eyes as he fists himself, his gaze fixed on your slicked core, the sight makes another pool of your arousal drip onto the sheets.

“Fuck-“ he sucks in a sharp breath, his hips stuttering against his own hold. “Need t’ be inside this tight cunt, baby.”

Your eyes go slightly wide at his confession, yet your lower half shakes with anticipation. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like this, this wrecked, desperate, this needy. He looks almost pained when your eyes meet his, and you feel as though you may just implode if he’s not inside you a moment longer. 

“Will you let me, pretty girl?”

You nod. 

“Yes or no, baby?” He squeezes the base of his shaft, staving off his impending release. You can’t help but smile a little, knowing he could come just like this, just from looking at you in your current state. But the need to feel him inside of you pulls you from the thought. 

Yes, please, yes.

He grabs your hips and swiftly flips you, shoving a pillow under your lower belly and pushing down on you until you’re laid almost flat on your stomach. He grabs roughly at your hips, pulling you up so that his cock brushes up against your slick folds. 

You bite down on your forearm when his wide tip notches at your entrance, basically drooling onto your own skin as you attempt to hold back your cries. He eases into you, still overly conscious of your sensitivity, ignoring the small part of his brain telling him to ram into you, make you feel every inch of him in one swift motion. He knows that you would take it, thank him for it, always such a good girl for him especially once he’s finally inside you, yet he knows the kind of control he has over you in these moments, knows it’s up to him to determine what you can and can’t take. 

When he bottoms out you feel as though you may just split in two, something animalistic sounds from deep within Joel’s throat. Tears fall to your arm when your head lolls to the side, your breathing ragged and your whole body on fire from both pain and pleasure.

“Fuck- not gonna last, baby.” He starts moving in and out of you slowly, and god, it hurts, yet your tight cunt sucks him back in with each of his thrusts, a delicious burning sensation spreading along your slick walls. You open your mouth to respond, to tell him not to worry himself, to beg him to come inside your aching cunt. But all that escapes your lips is a choked sob in the sound of Joel’s name. 

“Shh I know,” he coos. “You’re just so little, huh sweet thing? Little fucking cunt squeezing me so good honey.”

You keen at his praise, gushing around his massive girth. You’d never get used to it, the thickness of his cock, the weight of him deep inside your cunt. No matter how much he prepares you, it’s always a stretch, always just short of too much to bare. 

His thumb presses into the cleft of your ass as his pace increases. “Gonna let me fuck you here, baby?”

“Yes daddy,” you say and he freezes for a moment, your words nearly sending him over the edge. 

“Not today, little girl,” he growls and rocks back into you. A feeling of combined relief and disappointment washes over you. You’re not sure you could take it, not now, but part of you craves to be reduced to nothing but Joel’s fuck toy, fucked deep and full until you can’t even think, nothing but a few holes to be filled. 

“You’d let me though, wouldn’t ya?” He pulls you from your thought. “Dirty fuckin’ thing.”

“Mhm, yes daddy.” Your vision goes black at the feeling of his cock pulsing against your cervix. He was close, you could feel it in the way his thrusts went erratic, sloppy and slightly hurried. 

“Let me do whatever I want to ya, huh?”

“Yes daddy,” you say the only two words left in your brain. 

“Fuck, so fucking perfect, baby-“ The feeling of his warm release shooting inside of you makes you twitch around him and your brain go fuzzy. You can barely hear Joel’s grunts and moans nor his incessant praises over the ringing in your ears. This is what you craved, beyond the physical gratification brought on by these moments, but the way the world around you disappeared and you were filled with nothing but the content of being his, being Joel’s. The safety you felt beneath his large form, it leaves no room for worry, no thoughts of the stress of everyday life, no decisions to be made. Just him, just Joel. 

You’re not sure how long the two of you stay like this, long enough to feel your combined release dripping from Joel’s cock onto your trembling thighs, long enough that you feel yourself dipping in and out of sleep, in and out of consciousness. 

When he finally pulls out of you, he lets your hips softly fall onto the bed, your body sprawled across the damp sheets. You feel the mattress shift behind you as he stands, immediately heading for the en suite bathroom. At the loss of his presence, you’re reminded of the open window, the now midmorning breeze dancing across your damp skin. You can’t help but wonder if the echoes of your morning endeavors made their way to the street below, if a neighbor passing by could make out the sounds of your shrieks and screams, if perhaps it’d been a cause for concern until it became apparent that your cries were derived from a place of pleasure and not pain nor fear. 

Joel returns and takes quick notice of your shivering, immediately making his way to the window and shutting it. You smile to yourself at the sight of his bare backside, so strong and sturdy, the muscles in his shoulders sculpted from years of working on various job sites, tapering down to his waist, the dimples right above his ass. It’s truly a view you would never tire of. 

“‘S impolite to stare, y’ know?” He catches your eye, a playful smirk spread across his face. You giggle at him, still laying on your belly, your head tucked into the crook of your elbow. He chuckles when you make grabby hands at him with your free hand, to which he quickly concedes, bending over at your side and planting a kiss on your lips. You sigh against him, carding your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. 

“Hey baby.” He breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your nose. He tucks fallen pieces of hair behind your ear. “You okay?” 

You nod your head tiredly, unable to muster any more of a response, and he doesn’t attempt to pull one out of you, kissing your nose and rising back to his feet. 

He disappears once again, this time returning dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a damp washcloth in hand. He sits next to you on the bed, moving to clean between your legs, but your thighs clamp shut. It’s a purely physical reaction, your body on high alert due to the sensitivity. 

“Hey hey-“ he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine then leans over to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Just want t’ clean you up sweet girl. I’ll be so gentle, promise.” His soothing makes your legs instinctively relax and he brings the washcloth to the apex of your thighs. He’s gentle just like he promised, yet you still hiss slightly when the warm material meets your sensitive skin. 

When he’s finished, he grabs one of his t-shirts and a pair of shorts from the dresser, quickly returning to your side and urging you to turn onto your back. He dresses you, your body like putty in his hands, his touch gentle and warm. You can’t deny the aching feeling in your lower half when he slides your shorts on, but it’s a good kind of ache, an ache you’ll crave as soon as it dissipates. 

You grab at him again when he moves to pull away, but he makes it easy for you, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, careful not to bare any of his weight on you. The little whimpers that slip past your lips as your warm mouth moves across his make his spent cock twitch.

It scared him sometimes, the intensity with which he felt for you, the depth of his affections. It scared him, the thoughts he had, of what he would do to those who meant to hurt you, to those who have hurt you. It scared him, the thought of losing you, the lengths he would go to keep you safe, keep you here, here with him. But it was in these moments, when you’re laid beneath him, so soft and so lovely, that all those fears melted away. 

Before things move any further, he hooks his arms under you and lifts you from the bed with ease. You don’t protest, not sure you could even if you wanted to, instead you latch onto him, curl your face into his neck and wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you downstairs to the living room. 

He attempts to set you on the couch, but you cling to him like a koala, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “Let go,” he says firmly, a smile behind his words. “Don’t wanna,” you mumble against his skin, whining as he unfurls you from his torso and plops you on the couch. He places the TV remote in your hand, telling you to put somethin’ on, whatever you want.

He disappears into the kitchen and you attempt to sit up on the couch, your body going slack against the cushions. Your brain is still buzzing, it’s almost like you’re floating, not yet fully aware of your surroundings, but you can slowly feel yourself coming back to reality. You turn the TV on and set it to your latest recording. 

Joel returns a few minutes later, your favorite water bottle and a plate of peanut butter toast in hand, a bottle of Advil in the other. He sits on the couch, immediately urging you onto his lap, and you don’t object. 

“The Bachelor?” He says, a hint of judgement in his voice as he unscrews the cap of the Advil. 

“You love it,” you respond, beginning to lose focus on the show as you squirm and slither against his body, making yourself comfortable as if he were part of the couch. Joel softly chuckles, wrapping an arm loosely around you.

He holds a few of the pills in front of you. “Joel I’m fine. I don’t-“

“Not asking, sweetheart.” You roll your eyes, but take the Advil from him nonetheless, swallowing them down when Joel holds the straw of your water bottle to your mouth, knowing your body would thank you for it later. 

“Good girl,” he plants a quick kiss to your temple, before grabbing the toast from the coffee table, heat rises to your cheeks at his words.

He feeds you the toast, taking bites for himself while you chew. You hadn’t realized how depleted your body was, now feeling the haze lift with some food and water in your system. Every time it’s like coming back to earth, but fortunately you know that Joel will always be there to catch you. 

y'all I’m not good at endings pls forgive me

but hope we enjoyed the rest :p

part two

[twostepstyless]

I need to know what those thoughts are!!!!!

Lmao it depends on how you feel about pleasing how you’ll feel about my thoughts tbh. Let’s get into this though. This is probably going to end up under a cut because I'm just going to word vom and see what happens lol

First for a quick wee thought on the actual product, so I own three polish sets (perfect pearl, shroom bloom and hot holiday), I also have the pleasing pen, I had the hot holiday spritz and I own two apparel items, the pink shroom bloom frog tshirt and the original black pleasing sweatshirt. The nail polishes I'm a bit ropey about, I don't use them that much because I do my own extensions and gels, but when I do I find they chip easily, which could also be a me issue because I use my hands in all of my work so they take a bit of a beating, colour pay off is great, some colours need a few coats but decent enough. What I will say about the nail stuff though, Pleasing nail stickers are some of the best nail stickers I've ever used, but I need to hit someone over the head whoever keeps deciding to make full coverage nail wrap stickers, that's not what the girlies want and if anyones using them, you're lying to yourself. The wee illustration ones from Shroom Bloom and I suppose the wee letters from Perfect Pearl and my gals! I have burnt through them and I would love to be able to buy more of just the stickers they're so feckin good! Apparel is good, I appreciate the sustainable practices, they wash well, I've never had any fit issues with them, yeah 10/10. I'd like to own one of the lambswool jumpers from a curiosity point of view but not sure I'm in the headspace to drop 260 on it without feeling it first. The pleasing pen is good I'm a big fan of it, it sometimes reacts a bit iffy with at least one thing in my skincare routine for the under eye but its not bothered me enough for me to actually look into what's reacting with it. I'm a slut for a lip oil so I love the lip end. I also loved the toner spritz from Hot Holiday and if I ever make another Pleasing purchase I will be adding another one of those into my order. Idk if it ever really done anything life changing, I just liked it.

What I'm going to say first, I do think Harry still has a sufficient level of say on what's being released etc. Do I think he's sitting in all the creative meetings coming up with the story of the next drop? No, but I do feel like he's in the loop and could say no or "how about this" and have some form of creative control. I think what they're selling and the brands target market versus their actual current customer base, don't completely match up. I think what needs to be said, Pleasing do not want to sell to Harries, and when I say "Harries" I mean like Harries ™️©️ . The gals with Harry in their profile picture and Harry-coded social media handles, Pleasing do not want to use you to promote the brand, but who is Pleasings biggest consumer currently? Harries. I think the push back of that is really evident, have you ever noticed when Pleasing repost consumers content on their instagram story and occasionally their grid, its from peoples social channels who appear to have no visible connection to being a fan of Harry on their socials or if they do its very understated. Pleasing want to be a luxury brand not a singers merchandise. Next time you see Pleasing repost consumer photos, have a look and pay attention who they are reposting and you'll notice it, because we all know fan accounts are buying it, posting it, and tagging pleasing in it, but they won't see the light of day of Pleasings feed. By them pushing these “non-fans” (and that’s not to say they’re not fans of Harry, they probably are they just don’t look like the fan girl Harries the brands trying to hide) photos it sells a story of "look this isn't just fangirls buying it because it's Harry Styles, look at all these normal people buying our products!!" to entice normal beauty and apparel consumers to consider shopping with Pleasing the brand and not Harry Styles' brand Pleasing.

Their price point is proof of this also. Pleasing is expensive, we been knew. What I will say first though, sustainability is fucking expensive. I can't speak about price points of sustainable materials in the cosmetics industry because I know nothing about that, but I do know about sustainable textiles, and they're incredibly expensive, and pleasing are truly doing the most they can do in their apparel to create it ethically and sustainably, and that comes at a cost. Sustainably sourced cotton can be priced up to four times the price of more accessible cottons. Then of course they want to be deemed a luxury brand, so that comes with a luxury mark-up. Mark ups are a thing that’s how brands make money. When I first started studying fashion and textiles I had a professional development course that had us create and cost a single garment and the mark up percentage was set at 200% that’s just how it is. Now we all know that Harry fans come from all walks of life, age range, economic backgrounds, what jobs and careers we have etc, that's all obvious to us who are involved in that. To the boomers and big wigs behind the desks however, they think that the people who run the fan accounts etc are still the teeny bopper gals who have to get their parents to take them to the concert and ask for the concert tickets for their Christmas and birthdays etc (which fyi there is nothing wrong with but this is all hypothetical etc) and therefore won't be able to afford Pleasing with their own money if they even have their own money. So if they can price those people out they won't have to deal with the Harries ™️ looking like their only customer base. When as I said before, that's not the case, the gals running the fan accounts aren't just the 13 year olds with their dads card and a dream any longer. I'm a 26 year old woman with my own disposable income and a Tumblr blog who happens to own some Pleasing products.

So I think Pleasing try to distance themselves publicly from Harry as they can, but they still need to involve him at some base level to get the ball rolling with sales etc. Hence he uses the apparel publicly, he appeared in the fragrance advert because that was a new venture for them, not that I'm saying he's forced into that, that makes me sound like one of those mad conspiracy people and that's not what I'm getting at. Of course he likes his own product, he would be mad to put out something he doesn't wholeheartedly like, that would cause more damage than good, but if he's involved visually, that triggers the Harries TM to buy into the product spiking the sales therefore garnering the interest of their actual target market, they start reposting "normal" consumer photos therefore causing more "normal" customers to buy into it. I think they would love to cut out that "Harries TM" stage but that's not going to happen just yet.

However, I think the fragrance launch is the step in the right direction for them to get to that. Firstly, fragrance people are mental, they love buying into new fragrance brands, reviewing etc. They were who was at that Selfridges launch that first day. They connect with other fragrance consumers and collectors, not the "Harries," if they like the product, they bring in the fragrance lover demographic, which is who Pleasing want. As a quick aside, I think the price point of the fragrance is actually pretty fair, for 100ml bottles, decorative bottles, sustainable for both the perfume and the packaging and it was made with a legitimate perfumer.

Next, they choose to launch at the corner shop at Selfridges rather than the ordinary London pop-up shop they've done previously. Why is that important? Did you know there are only four Selfridges stores. That's a level of exclusivity Pleasing are after. Harrods would be another level but as far as I'm aware Harrods don't have an equivalent space to The Corner Shop in Selfridges therefore don't do things like pop-ups etc its more permanent brands within the shop. If Pleasing were an apparel only brand I could see them doing something similar in Dover Street Market, and I wouldn't write that off as something that won't happen in the future because I think it could. People who regularly shop in Selfridges are also the people Pleasing want to be buying their product, who have a bit more of a frivolous disposable income. The U.S doesn't have the equivalent shop I don't believe to do a similar style of launch hence they've had to go with independent pop-ups in LA and New York, where they already know that it's likely that the majority of customers visiting those pop-ups are going to be Harry fans first rather than the luxury consumers they can pick up from just having a visible presence in Selfridges. If they were to do an in-store launch in the U.S, maybe Bergdorf's perhaps but I think they inch towards a more Harrods level and Pleasing aren't there. Places like Bloomingdales and Macy's are also not exclusive enough for the launch Pleasing they want. They are a small scale luxury brand and I truly believe they want to stay that way for the time being anyway, hence they're launching in a shop that only has four physical locations.

To cut a long story short ig? The product is decent but who they're making it for and who's actually buying it doesn't quite marry up right now and I think the still have to rely on Harry being Harry and being liked and likeable outside of his own fans and have him involved visually to generate sales rather than the brand being able to stand on its own two feet in the luxury market.

[pocket-lin]

hii <3

4, 11, 16 and 19 for the fandom asks??

(almost just wrote a plea for you to answer all of them but managed to restrain myself😅)

hi hi hi!! thank you for asking me these, this is so much fun!! reading back on these answers after I've written them is shocking because I really can just go on and on about stuff, huh? I really don't talk that much irl so I didn't know I had all this in me hahaha I'm so sorry!! I'm actually so embarrassed 😅 I'm gonna put the answer to 11 in a separate post so I can actually attach the picture I'm proud of!

4. say something nice about a ship you don't ship (it can be another ship in your fandom, a mutual's OTP, etc)

the one ship that's jumping out to me is dramione. I am a huge hater of this ship (sorry sorry sorry if you're reading this and it's your thing I love you and support you!!!) but you guys make some really cool shit and I'm happy you have a community you can share it with!! I've poked around in the ao3 and tumblr tags and its absolutely not for me, but there's some really beautiful and horny stuff out there for this ship and I so genuinely love that for all of you!

16. a tiny detail in canon that you want more people to appreciate

if I'm being totally honest with you, I haven't interfaced with the harry potter canon in a very long time. i already own all the movies and books and stuff, so I wouldn't even be giving jk money by rewatching/reading them, but it just kind of makes my stomach hurt when I think about supporting her in some way. I've had to work through a lot of complicated feelings in regards to jk and harry potter in general, as I'm sure many people have had to do! her words and actions and how I feel about it are not complicated at all, but what to do in the aftermath of it was something I had to figure out. I mean, I have a hp tattoo on my ankle!! my pinned post is about this specifically, but where I've ultimately landed on it all is this: I don't want to let her steal any more joy from me than she already has. there are so many queer and trans people in this fandom creating such incredible stuff, and I just don't want to lose that! I got off on a whole tangent here and definitely have a lot more I could say on the topic, BUT all this to say, I can't really think of tiny hp details anymore!! and in this specific fandom, I'm totally okay with that!

19. your current fandom(s)

the fandom that I interact with the most is definitely harry potter, but I have a bunch of other stuff I'm super into!!

the whole reason I got back into any fandom–and the entire reason I logged back into Tumblr for the first time since 2018–was because of our flag means death!! I've loved rhys darby since flight of the conchords and was so pumped that he was a lead in an hbo show! I was totally shocked when ofmd turned out to not be queerbait!! something about that first season just flipped a switch in me and I looked for fan fiction for the first time in like, 10 years!! I actually didn't even know about ao3 and tried to go to ff.net and it was a whole thing. getting back into fandom was very intimidating, I'm not gonna lie. (wow I really could just talk forever huh?)

my other fandoms are: the sandman, the witcher, good omens (I was so late to that show but jumped on right before the second season completely on accident), check please!, disco elysium, red dead redemption (especial rdr2), the x files, the walking dead, the rivers of london series, and d&d: honor among thieves.

and then there's some stuff that I don't even know how I got into!! like, the spideypool ship. gang, I've barely seen any marvel movies, I haven't read very many marvel comic books. and I honestly don't plan it because I just don't like marvel (once again, could go on about this forever, I was a manager at my local comic shop and have many opinions). but someone I follow posted about a fic (and I am not immune to beautiful fan art) and then I fell down the rabbit hole!! def have recs if anyone is interested!

another one is the ted lasso fandom. I genuinely don't remember why we never finished watching the second season but then the reviews for the third season was kinda mixed so I never went back to it. and then I saw a writer I'm head over heels for had a ted lasso fic (other lives by @andthepeople) and WHOOPS I fell down another rabbit hole!! i also have ted lasso recs!

essentially, if ya boy's read/watched/listened to something, you know he's gonna go look at what the freaks (affectionate) are posting on ao3.

[simplymurdock]

I posted 827 times in 2022

That's 509 more posts than 2021!

47 posts created (6%)

780 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@peterthepark

@heytherejulietx

@indouloureux

@fleurfairie

@hellfirebabes

I tagged 145 of my posts in 2022

#doctor who - 11 posts

#maddie speaks ✩‧₊˚ - 10 posts

#maddie rambles - 9 posts

#simplymurdock - 9 posts

#eleventh doctor - 8 posts

#halsey - 7 posts

#spotify - 6 posts

#mutal love letters 💌 - 6 posts

#doctor who eleventh - 6 posts

#maddie after dark 🌃🩸🔪 - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 107 characters

#i feel like he would be down to just walk around the museum with and talk about everything and i’ll let him

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Into It

summary: you gush about your boyfriend JJ (i honestly can’t think of anything to put so sorry it’s short)

pairing: jj maybank x gender neutral! reader

warnings: that’s all i could think of but if i missed anything let me know and i’ll add it <3)

word count: 814 words

authors note: so this once again another fluffy jj imagine is anyone shocked? Anyways this one was surprisingly hard to write even though i had my basic ideas and plot down nothing was coming when i was typing it out. Which is why it is so short. Anyways i hope you all had an amazing new year and enjoyed your break. (my request are open just please make

See the full post

101 notes - Posted January 9, 2022

#4

Mystery Box

summary: you suprise the doctor with a mysterious small box.

pairing: 11th doctor x reader

warnings: fluff, just prue fluff (that’s all i could think of but if i missed anything let me know and i’ll add it <3)

word count: 896 words

authors note: so this is another short one, but since it’s february i wanted to write more fluffy stuff. and who better to start it off with then none other then the doctor i have a build-a-bear of. this is also hugely inspired by @heytherejulietx 11th doctor works that y’all should definitely check out. but i really hope y’all enjoy it <3 (also my request are open so please make sure you read the rules before making a request!)

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115 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

#3

So You Need A Time Machine?

summary: after (y/n)’s laptop crashes a familiar doctor comes to her rescue.

pairing: eleventh doctor x reader

warnings: fluff/comfort, some cursing, it’s mostly fluff (that’s all i could think of but if i missed anything let me know and i’ll add it <3)

word count: 1148 words

authors note: When @heytherejulietx tells you your writing is amazing you write more immediately. This truly brought me so much joy to write and i loved the thought of the doctor with a companions that is an art history major. so don't be surprised if i write more things like this cause i already want to do something with river and this character type. (also my requests are open so please make sure you read the rules before making a request!)

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144 notes - Posted March 19, 2022

#2

Hey! I’d love to request an eleventh doctor x reader where the doctor is completely dependent on and in love with the reader - she’s his anchor - but he doesn’t tell her cause you know… he’s the doctor. The reader is oblivious to those feelings and one day something happens - you choose what - and he might lose the reader. What will he do when he might possibly lose his anchor?

Her Doctor

summary: What happens when the Doctor’s anchor slowly loses herself in the asylum of the Daleks.

pairing: eleventh doctor x fem!reader

warnings: cruising, mentions of losing someone and death, some angst but I make it up with some fluff in the end and sprinkled about. (that’s all i could think of but if i missed anything let me know and i’ll add it <3)

word count: 4,154 words

authors note: this hands down the longest thing i’ve written on here and it took forever. this lovely request came from @okay-j-hannah who you can blame for allowing me to write some sad shit (i’m 100% being sarcastic here lol). but in all seriousness thank you so much for requesting i really hope you enjoy this <3 (my requests are open so please make sure you read the rules before making a request!)

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160 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Alone

summary: after getting separated from everyone in the hotel with changing hallways you corner yourself into a room. only to be met with your greatest fear.

pairing: eleventh doctor x reader

warnings: cruising, and description of fear but other than i don’t think there’s any. (that’s all i could think of but if i missed anything let me know and i’ll add it <3)

word count: 1700 words

authors note: the god complex it one of my favorite episodes mostly cause i like creepy eerie mystery type stuff and this hopefully fulfilled that same thing. (also my requests are open so please make sure you read the rules before making a request!)

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349 notes - Posted February 26, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[river-bottom-nightmare]

"you were missed, you know.” the voice is light, balancing on the edge of airy like a coin on its rim, in a way only careful practice yielded. so jason whirls around, faster than he normally would in a neatly-pressed suit and loose dress shoes. 

there’s a woman, close cropped red hair swinging into her face and pulling at the corners of her mouth until her expression is as severe as her form. there’s a scar on her jaw and, oh, the memory tumbles into his head as if pushed. kate kane, proof that vigilantism is genetic, once tugged jason into into her side and pulled him away from a particularly leering investor at function. the bite of her nails on his skin was a thousand times sweeter than the man’s smile.

she smirks. “hi.”

“haven’t seen you in a while,” jason responds, attempting casual and instead tripping, falling into his crime lord persona, since he doesn’t know how else to interact with people when he’s jason peter todd-wayne. 

“not since you died,” kate remarks and damn, right for the gullet. “you’ve grown up.”

jason shrugs, suddenly feeling thirteen years old again, suddenly feeling all of four feet, eight inches in the face of her candidness. “time’s funny like that.”

she eyes him carefully, trying to fish for the truth in what she believes is a lie wrapped in a careful quip. jason doesn’t blame her: he’s cultivated quite a reputation for himself. but he stripped the sarcasm from his words before he spoke them, and their rawness is shrouded in the bubbling champagne and crystal chandelier around them, but it’s no less present for anyone who knows how to peel the veil back.

“you were missed,” she repeats, satisfied with his answer. “not sure anyone’s told you that since you’ve come back. your family’s a stubborn bunch. i just wanted to make sure.”

“make sure i knew i was missed?” jason clarifies, feeling a little foolish, because dick wouldn’t beg to save his life but there were a few times that his words came close to pleas, and tim had made it clear how much he’d upheld the pedestal he’d put jason on, and alfred had actually told him that to his face. 

but this was the first time he found himself truly believing those familiar words. he hadn’t known kate, not at all. and yet, she nodded, clapped him on the shoulder once, twice, then left, completely unaware of the pit of resentment she’d carved out of jason’s stomach and thrown on the ground until jason felt like he’d slip on it if he moved, if he breathed.

she didn’t look back, but jason’s eyes didn’t stop following her until she was out of sight.

*

"you were missed, you know.” jason doesn’t startle, his training is etched into every scar decorating his skin, and there are times that he grips and holds onto those scars like a lifeline. he’s far too practiced to flinch, but he’d be lying to himself if his heart didn’t skip a beat.

he forgave himself in the next second, though. cassandra cain could make men much more experienced than him recoil. she appeared soundlessly, and folded down beside him with a grace that jason hadn’t seen anywhere outside his family. the amount of space she left between them, the relaxed posture that left visible tension cording through her arms like pulling steel taffy, the tilt to her body that made jason automatically want to open his mouth and let his tumultuous thoughts come out as an oil spill: right now, cass had dick grayson’s brushtrokes all over her.

“dick put you up to this?” 

cass shook her head, then bit her lip in a considering movement. jason wondered if he’d practiced, because bruce had long since broken that dangerous habit out of his children. 

“i am still working on comfort. assurance,”  she said, rifling through the words like flash cards, picking the most accurate ones. “i thought i’d practice.”

“oh? and why exactly do you think i need comfort.”

“i overheard your argument,” she admitted, “with bruce.”

“i didn’t think anyone was there.”

“i didn’t mean to,” she said. “sorry. but i heard what you said.”

jason scoffed. “prove me wrong. one step forward, two steps back with that dense motherfucker.”

“sign of protection,” cass said. “not distrust.”

out of everyone to say that to him, cass was probably the least likely. jason had thought she, of all people, would be on his side after he found the microchip in his helmet. she, of all people, would value independence after being owned for so long.

“by the time he found you, you were dead. and he missed you more than anything. he will never let that happen again.”

“oh yeah? privacy mean nothing to him? i know he’s crazy about this stuff but come on. there’s a limit.”

“you are not relying on him because of this.” cass stood up, stretching her back, though jason was sure she really didn’t have to. “he is relying on you. let him.”

*

“you were missed, you know.” 

“what, speaking from personal experience? i ain’t you, west.” jason could feel the gentle thrum of electricity behind him, making his hair stand on edge. two steps backward, and he’d be pulled into that void, that black hole of energy, that swirling vortex of pure power condensed into something human-shaped.

except he wouldn’t. it was just wally. just dick’s best friend joining him outside on the balcony. jason didn’t know how dick and tim could stand to be around speedsters willingly, for fun.

“i mean, sort of,” wally shrugged. “but me and you had very different experiences.”

“yeah, west, i’m not sure who else has been stuck in the fucking speedforce.”

wally snorted, an if only you knew hidden in plain sight. jason decided he really didn’t want to know. “i mean there’s that,” the speedster concedes, “but also, everyone forgot i existed. that didn’t happen with you.”

“you sure about that?” 

“hey,” wally eyed him, his eyes suddenly sharp. “don’t start that shit. i was erased from the memories of everyone i loved. you did nothing but stay in the memories of your family.”

“now i know we’re talking about two different things.”

“jason,” wally sighed, and the sheer exasperation pouring off him made jason want curl his fingers, bring them up for a swing, taste the bite of pain that would prick at his knuckles, nevermind the fact that wally would dodge anyway. “don’t do that.”

he turned to face the speedster, arms crossed deliberately over his chest. “where the hell do you get off acting like dick?”

“you’re more like dick than you realize,” wally said, “and i spent half my childhood dealing with his moods. actually, i still do.”

“do you have a point?” jason snapped, starting to get irritated. he wasn’t sure why. he’d spent his entire life one one end of a scale, dick grayson on the other. he’d always tipped his end down. this was the first time someone was telling him the scale was even.

“just because your family didn’t mourn the way you wanted them to,” wally said, “doesn’t mean they didn’t mourn you.”

“fuck you.”

“they loved you. and they missed you,” wally continues, steamrolling right over jason in a way most speedsters were prone to do. “there’s no minimum requirement for loss. no ‘if you didn’t do this, then you didn’t grieve me.’ that’s not even a situation, ever.”

“so that makes everything bruce did okay?” jason sputtered

“not at all. god knows i disagree with bruce on more things than i tolerate. but this is one thing you can’t fault him on.”

it wasn’t that easy, though. jason wanted to scream it at wally’s face, it wasn’t that easy. it wasn’t about whether bruce loved him enough,,,,except maybe it was. jason wanted bruce to have loved him enough to make a difference in gotham. jason wanted bruce to have missed him enough to change things, because change meant that bruce had been so hurt by his death that he refused to let it happen to anyone else again.

bruce had made a vow after his parents died. the fifteen year old inside jason was begging bruce why he hadn’t been afforded the same devotion. jason was his son.

“just something to think about,” wally said, then stepped backward, making to go inside where dick was calling him. “you were afforded the luxury of coming back with a place left empty in your family for you. you didn’t have to make it, like i did.”

“being dead, then coming back wrong isn’t a fucking luxury,” jason snarled.

with a shrug, wally turned, a little faster than the average human, lightning sparking at his heels as he left jason alone on the balcony. “depends on your definition of wrong.”

jason get therapy. please. also happy deathday

honestly i couldn’t decide whose side of the argument i was on, jason’s or wally’s.

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @bonkybearjpeg @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption

[kai-writes-fan-fiction]

In Hiding Part 4/?

Hey loves! Sorry it took so long for me to write part 4, I’ve had school and band. I like this chapter, so I hope you do too!

Word count: 1566

Warnings: Really un graphic violence, mentions of undiagnosed PTSD, OCD, and depression, and my inability to write good endings

The last 30 minutes on the Quinjet were pure hell. Tony kept trying to grill you, and you didn’t respond, which motivated him to ask even more questions.

Finally, he rolled his eyes and asked, “Where are your parents?”

Hundreds of locked-away memories flooded your mind. Your parents had sold you to HYDRA at age 5. You didn't know much about your parents or their identities.

After he asked about your parents, you broke eye contact and looked anywhere but into someone's eyes.

“I see.” Tony scowled but continued asking more questions, but you weren't in the mood, even more now than before.

You eventually drifted off into a daydream as Tony’s questions slurred together. You dreamt about what your life could've been if you had parents and weren't mutant. You could still have parents; you wouldn't have sustained all of that torture at HYDRA, and you would've gotten to go to school!

School, something many take for granted. You didn't have any higher education, and being 15 and more innovative and 99.99% of the world, it was a moot point. Still, being among everyday people, having friends, and discovering your passions, would be amazing.

Snaps in your face brought you back, courtesy of Tony.

“Kid. Kid! Hello?” He snapped in your face.

You had returned to Earth and- hey, look at that! Tony is within head butting distance. Maybe it'd get him to shut up, or would Loki attack again? He was staring at you from the back of the jet, unmoving, eyes trying to predict your following movements.

“KID!” Tony shouted.

You'd had enough of hearing him in your face, so you turned back to him, made eye contact, and-

“Don’t do that, girl.” Loki snarled from his seat.

Tony turned to him and cocked his head.

“She was going to headbutt you, obviously. Don't get within 5 feet of her.”

Tony thanked him quietly and sat in his seat, glaring at you. You made eye contact with him once more, and you smirked.

The rest of the ride was quiet, save for a few tiny pockets of conversation and Tony coming up with more dumb questions, which you elected to ignore.

——————————

You had finally reached the compound, and all you could think about was your impending doom.

Steve picked you up again, as your restraints render you immobile. You fell limp in his arms, head dangling. You were so tired and so worried.

Steve carried you into the compound and to a room, or rather, a cell. The space was empty except for a cot in the corner and a sink. The wall next to the door sported a one-way mirror.

“You’ll stay in here; Stark wants to ask you more questions; he’ll be in here soon.” He put you down on the floor, and you looked up to him. He uncuffed you and swiftly ran out in fear of you trying to bolt again.

Little did you know, he and many of the other team members were staring at you from the other side of the glass, observing you in attempts to understand how you worked and your erotic behavior.

The room was made of something that made you powerless, and the walls were a blinding white. There weren’t any windows, and a single notepad and pencil lay on the bed.

You sat in the center of the room for 5 minutes, staying stationary. Once more, scenarios of what the Avengers might do to you crowded your mind. Tears came again, and you sobbed quietly. Everything hurt, and you were once again reminded that you'd been awake for almost 24 hours. So you carefully laid yourself out on the ground, being mindful of your bruises, and cried there.

—————Avengers POV—————

“So- uh- what do we do now?” Steve pointed to you, still crying on the floor.

“Poor thing,” Wanda remarked, frowning.

“Poor thing? She may be a child, but she's evil!” Tony scoffed.

“She could be a beneficial asset to the team,” Nat suggested.

“I don’t trust her.” Tony crossed his arms and looked back to your shaking figure.

“Tony, I kinda volunteered to go talk to her.” Steve turns back to him. “She's got a notepad, and if she doesn’t open up, we’ll send someone else in.”

“Why the hell did you volunteer me? Kid hates me; it's obvious.”

“Just go see if you can get anything out of her, Tony,” Natasha ordered.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes, stepping into your cell.

—————Your POV—————

Tony Stark stepped into your cell, the door shut with a loud ‘thud.’ His intentions were unclear, so you backed into a corner. He crouched in front of you and looked into your puffy, red eyes.

Now that the two of you weren't fighting, he noticed how truly young you were; you still had that childlike glimmer in your bright blue eyes. You had been turned into a villain, but it wasn’t your fault.

“Hey, kid.”

You didn’t respond, just blinked. He grabbed the notepad and pencil on the bed.

“Since we haven’t heard you speak, we put this here for you to write on. Do you know how to write?”

Of course, you knew how to write. You stared at Stark, annoyed that he thought you couldn’t write, and slowly nodded your head.

He handed you the notepad and pencil and asked your name, which he knew. He was trying to create a sense of normalcy for you.

“(Y/N)” You wrote.

“You have great handwriting and a beautiful name (Y/N).” He said, reaching for your hand.

You winced when Tony touched you and quickly brushed him off.

“Understood.” Tony moved back and asked you, “Did HYDRA give you your powers?”

“I don’t think so. I was young. I don’t know.” You wrote. You did know, however. You were born with powers, and that’s why your parents sold you. You were too much to handle, and many people were willing to pay hefty prices for you.

You weren’t fond of visiting HYDRA memories, let alone talking about them. Memories of being tortured plagued your dreams every night, and it seems that HYDRA had found a way to torture you even after you escaped.

Often loud noises would bring back memories, as would needles and human contact.

“I want my clothes back.” You wrote. You thought they might bring some semblance of home, a piece of you to hold, and you’d be able to smell your apartment and yourself.

Tony nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Do you need anything else?”

You shook your head and wrote, “Please leave now. And don’t stare at me from the window. It's creepy.”

Tony chuckled. “Ok, Banner is going to come to check on you at some point.”

You nodded and waved your hand towards the door, signaling him to leave.

Tony slowly got up, and you stared silently as he left the cell. Before he shut the door, he looked back to you, stationary on the floor, staring up at him. Once he was gone, you stared into the mirror, not at yourself but any unsuspecting souls behind it.

Once you thought the sufficient amount of staring was reached, you got up and went to the bed at the far corner of your cell. It was perpendicular to the door, so you could see if anyone entered and be ready to defend yourself.

–—————————

It must've been an hour or so until Banner walked into your cell. You jumped up from the bed and pushed yourself into a corner. He frowned and set down what he was carrying, which was a tray of food and your clothing.

He stepped away from said items, and you scrambled to grab them, scared he’d take them back. You backed yourself into your corner once more, shielding yourself with your clothing.

“Hey, (Y/N). Remember me?”

You scowled. You remembered him, and you weren't very fond of the memories you shared with him.

You didn't move, eyes still trained on him. He kneeled about 5 feet away from you, not wanting to startle you.

His voice was low and soft when he asked, “Can I come closer?”

You stared, not knowing how to answer. Would Bruce hurt you again? Could you trust him? It didn’t look like he was holding anything more to hurt you. You allowed yourself to creep closer, slowly inching towards him.

“See, baby steps.” He looked towards the window. You assumed some people were still watching the two of you.

You let yourself come closer, until you were about a foot away from him.

“Can I touch your hand?” He reached out and touched you, but you winced and pulled your hand away. You still didn’t trust him, you would need a whole lot more prof before letting him, or anyone for that matter, touch you.

“Ok, I’m going to go now, get some sleep.” He stood and turned away from you, heading to the exit.

He stepped out, and turned off the lights in your room. It was almost pitch black, except for a dim light coming through the window. You climbed into the bed, and stared up at the ceiling. You were exhausted, but sleep refused to come.

It must have been 45 minutes when you finally drifted off to a restless sleep. You dreamt about what would meet you in the morning.

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[quirklessidiot]

Title: first meetings [ii. the small pink-haired boy] Genre: just angst, drama, romance, historical fiction Pairing: Sorcerer!Sukuna x gn!sorcerer!reader (heian era; pre-curse sukuna)

Synopsis: in which you befriend the slave boy you’re supposed to spy on.

Warnings: not canon stuff, future dark themes,, smoll manga spoilers, slavery, whipping, mentions of rape, language and violence Notes: im kinda back i guess skksks also these are pretty much random au’s of my own take of sukuna’s back story uwu, theyre arranged in no particular order and you can read them in any order. This started out as a random one shot and i couldnt get it out of my head lol ksksksks, def not canon btw but it is canon that sukuna used to be an all powerful sorcerer before he turned to the dark side or smthng.

lil dictionary: non-person-  usually what they called slaves during the heian era.

masterlist [for other parts] ;; taglist 

“That’s beautiful.”

Contrasting to your rather clean and prestigious appearance, the young boy was dressed in rags and had dirt painted on his face. You could tell by his uncommon red eyes that he didn’t want you here nor did he even want to be associated with you.

“...the boy is rather prideful.” your otosan recounted a few nights before, you’d usually have conversations like this since you were quite close with him and he did like to confide you with these things,“but he has spirit, he’d be good for a ward.”

“What are you doing here?” He spat, being a part of and the sole heir of your family meant you were also treated with dignity and respect, it seemed like this boy wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone, this made you grin wildly much to his disdain, “Oi, stop grinning like that. You’re creeping me the fuck out.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“And I don’t care.” 

“Has anyone told you that you’ve got quite the temper?”

“Well, has anyone told you that you’re being an annoying bitch?” he bit back, five minutes into your first meeting, this strange boy seemed to want to get furthest away from you. He seemed to be rather ignorant to his overflowing cursed energy, your father was right, this boy was definitely no joke. 

“That’s sad.” You pouted, “All I wanted to say was how beautiful that Kimono is.”

“I was at a store, looking for some clothes that best suited you when I saw a young boy of your age…” your otosan narrated, “Who had a rather high cursed energy, he seemed unaware with it. He works as an errand boy, I believe, he carries heavy clothes and silk… His looks are hard to miss Y/N, so I’m sure you won’t miss him...try to talk to him…”

The boy looks up to you, completely annoyed, “Well, you said it. Now fuck off, yeah?”

You chose to ignore him and just bend down to his level, you had no training for today so you might as well join the boy for a moment since you had time to kill, “You know, if you keep keeping that attitude up, you might scare the customers away.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah?” he clicked his tongue, “Looks to me that you aren’t even here to buy anything.”

“He seemed rather…” Your otosan described, “perplexed...so you might as well go in my stead…”

“Ah.” your grin doesn’t seem to fade despite his rather rough way of speaking, “You just seemed around my age so I got interested.”

“No shit, now buzz off. I got no time for kids like you.”

He talks as if he was older than you, it’s no surprise. Boys like him tend to think they know quite a lot.

“Do you wish to tell me your name now?”

He was silent for a moment.

That’s when realization dawned upon you, why he seemed perplexed around your otosan, why he thinks you were an annoying buzz, and why he couldn’t reply when you asked for his name. You feel yourself inwardly cringe at your mistake, it seems like the boy your father took interest in is a slave with no name, “Twenty.” he mumbles, shrugging nonchalantly.

“What?”

“They call me twenty.” he recounts, his voice is still rough around the edges, remaining uncensored by his identity.

“Right…” you tilt your head, “Twenty…”

“You’ve got silks to bring to the next town, boy!” a loud voice calls out, cutting you short, making the pink-haired boy put the pretty kimono down and back for display. Without even sparing you a glance or a word, he retreats to the back and you’re left squatting there alone. You watch him from behind, specifically at the bandages that peeked through his wrists.

The boy had piqued your interest to the point that you made it your weekly agenda to visit him and a-some-nights agenda to watch over him. He still ignores you and seems to be annoyed by you every time but he doesn’t seem to be doing anything about it so you just sit there. 

You were also still in awe by how much raw energy he possessed, you’d ask your otosan if he knew any sorcerers with lost children because it surely seemed as if this boy wasn’t ordinary.

“Just keep an eye on him,” was all your father said as you watch the boy close up shop late at night from on top of a roof, “He might make a great sorcerer and shift the tides.”

Your otosan was not one for gambling on people but it seemed like he made a large bet on this boy. 

As usual, you’re watching over him close up. It’s late and the owner of the place walks out, a pipe on his lips. Right then and there, he slaps the pink-haired teenager right at the face, “You should’ve joined the customer awhile ago in the dressing room, boy.” he growls, “It would’ve been quick…”

You feel the negative energy emit stronger than ever and your grip on your knife is tight, “Don’t get involved, Y/N.” your otosan’s warning echoes in your head, yes your otosan may have been interested in him but he was never one to dwell in human affairs, saying they were annoying and a mess to clean up.

“...It seems like the lesson a few nights ago wasn’t enough.” you snap back to reality and watch his boss stretch out a whip with its pointy ends and you feel your blood run cold. 

‘Don’t get involved-’

You ignore your otosan’s words in your head and throw a stone right at a nearby sign, resulting in a booming clang, making the cat nearby yelp outloud. The pink-haired boy jumps on the spot and so does the older man at the sound.

“Ah fucking-” the older man curses, tucking the whip back in, “No food for you for three days. Know your fucking worth, non-person.”

Your grip on your nodachi lessens as you let out a sigh of relief, whatever legal terms your father must be talking about needs to be done quickly.

On the next day, you’re on your way to visit him again. Carrying the bento box that you know he’ll refuse again because of his ‘pride’ yet you stop dead on your tracks when you find his owner and an older man talking, Sukuna seems to be standing behind them, looking quite uncomfortable.

It didn’t take two and two to guess what was going on, the amount of cursed energy leaking on him was strong so you could only guess this was the man who wanted to get his way on him yesterday. Your nose crinkles in absolute disgust, “Don’t get involved-”

Once again, you ignore your otosan’s words.

“Hey!” You call out, you see his red eyes widen, “What are you doing?”

The older man frowns at your sudden appearance, “None of your business brat. Now go home-”

“I said,” You repeated, your voice dangerously low, “What are you doing to him?”

“He’s a non-person, kid.” his ‘owner’ growls, you notice his hands dangerously close to his whip, “A fucking slave in simpler terms, now get the fuck out before I beat him and you.”

“You don’t scare me.” Your eyes are narrowed, truthfully, no one ever scares you. You were the heir of your clan. It was to be expected and drilled since your curse energy manifested when you were five that fear would come last, “Now unhand the boy.”

“This bitch-”

“Now, now.” The other man smiles, cutting the pink-haired boy’s ‘owner’ off,  “Maybe I can take that young child with me too. After all, they seem to be good friends. Two is better than one…”

You watch the other older man snake an arm on the young boy’s shoulder and you could feel the fear leaking out, it was harder to mask and hide now. 

“Is it alright to put a little scar on’em? So that they’d know-” He gets ready to take out the whip while your fists are clenched, this would be easy. You could get away with this later, at least you’d take the boy away from this place and help him control his energy after. 

Yet before you’re able to land a blow, the pink-haired boy yells at you to move as his ‘owner’ takes out a whip to whip you.

For someone who didn’t seem to like your presence, he was rather quick to defend you, having his face get hit in the process by the sharp whip. Your eyes widen in surprise, “Ah, shit… Y/N, run!” he yells but you’re staring at his very bloody face.

It would obviously leave marks like the wrists and who knows which parts since he was always covered by that very loose raggedy kimono.

You clench your fists tightly and look up from his blood features, the ‘owner’ stops on his tracks when he meets your very cold gaze, “Do you know who you just messed with?” you asked, “You really think I won’t tell my otosan that you planned to make me your prostitute?”

“Y-Y/N, jesus christ just fucking run-” he tried to stutter out, any evidence of the prideful and strong boy who tried to shoo you away was now gone.

Yet like the stubborn child you are, you ignore him and instead take out your family seal and drop it in front of them, ignoring the pink-haired boy’s plea’s and watching the two men in front of you turn white as a ghost as they see the nameplate, “My name is Ryomen Y/N.” You stated, voice loud and clear, “And you better hope that I’ll let you out here dead or me and my otosan will hunt you down for the rest of your life.”

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@iguessimastannnow

[calpops]

less lonely | l.h.

You move in with Luke and he realizes all of the time he’s missed out on with you and his son.

From my prompt list: I can’t do this anymore & stay with me

1.3k words

living with luke masterlist | feedback and reblogs mean the world

Copyright © 2021 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

Luke looks around his house, the once clean and comfortable home turned upside down. Boxes and suitcases litter the floor and footprints sweep across the tile from friends helping in the endeavor to move you and Luke’s son in. Luke’s still in awe and shock at the revelations you brought to his doorstep the previous day but an excitement sits in his heart that he can’t deny. His son sits in a baby swing and giggles as Luke crouches down to face him. Robbie reaches a hand up and gives Luke a grin.

“Hey bud,” Luke coos and takes Robbie’s small hand, the baby’s fingers tiny in his hold. “Welcome home.”

“I think he likes it here,” Luke hears you say from behind him, he spins on his heel and faces you, stands to be at eye level and watches as you place a box on the coffee table.

“I hope so,” he mutters, runs a hand through his hair and eyes all of the things that have accumulated around the house. “Is that the last of it?” Luke asks as the door shuts behind Ashton and Michael both toting boxes. Affirmative nods come Luke’s way. “Lotta stuff for two people.”

You laugh and Luke feels a little lighter through all of the adjustments. “Believe it or not, most of it is his,” you retort and send a fond smile over to Robbie. “I may have gone a little overboard.”

Luke shakes his head, knowing that he would have done the same if given the chance. He can’t imagine what he would have done for his son as a newborn, he doesn’t know what ridiculous things he would have sought out. It hits him once again that there’s eight missing months standing between them. His heart aches and his mind wanders through the time he lost but he shakes himself, knowing that letting himself drown in those missing pieces won’t do anyone any good.

“It’s too bad Cal’s not here to help,” Ashton chides lightly even though everyone knows why and would never hold it against him.

“Have you heard from him? How’s Mila doing?” Michael asks and Luke tunes in for an update; his favorite niece fighting an illness that’s left Calum by her side at all times.

“Better,” Ashton informs and the entire room lightens. Luke catches his breath and peers over at Robbie, unable to imagine what it must be like to be in Calum’s shoes. “Cal said if she’s doing even better by the weekend we can go see her.”

Luke leans back down to Robbie and picks him up, suddenly needing to know that he’s okay. Protective instincts kicking into gear at the mention of Mila and the anxiety that looms. Luke rocks Robbie, swaying himself from side to side as the eight month old delights in the motion.

“We’ll go meet Mila, huh, I think you two will be best buds,” Luke whispers with all of the hope his heart can muster.

Ashton and Michael stay long enough to help build and set up the essentials. They stay until it’s dark and rejoice in the new bundle of joy that’s joined the family. Michael makes promises that Robbie is his favorite nephew and vows that this time he’ll be the favorite uncle. Ashton only chuckles and waves a hand at his friend. The day goes by smoothly and Luke finds himself restless as night claims the sky and silence settles into the once bustling house.

It’s late when Luke finds himself sitting on the couch sifting through cardboard boxes, fingers finding a photo album and curiosity getting the better of him. He pauses, knows he shouldn’t pry but the photo of Robbie on the cover allows him to indulge. You’d already promised he could see photos of the times he missed. Alone and under nothing but moonlight pooling in from the French doors Luke assumes now is better than later. He flips the album open and takes a deep breath.

He’s met with the sight of a newborn Robbie, his height and weight written in the margins of the book. He flips through the pages, watches as Robbie grows bigger and hurt makes a home in his heart. Photos of Robbie with you scatter the pages, photos of Robbie with people Luke has never met blow hard truths into his mind. He keeps flipping, restless in his endeavor to catch up on all that he’s missed. He hears the floor creak behind him and turns to find you tiptoeing down the hall.

“What are you doing up?” you ask.

“Just… looking,” he says, voice low and quiet. He turns back to the album and finds Robbie with a smile that could melt and break hearts. “I can’t do this anymore,” Luke mumbles and snaps the album shut.

“Do what?” you question as you approach and see the album now discarded on the coffee table.

Luke sighs and covers his hands with his face as he leans back into the plush cushions of the couch. He rubs his eyes and then drags his fingers down his face and eventually settles his hands balled into fists in his lap.

“Pretend that I’m okay,” he chokes out and feels the dip of your weight on the cushions beside him. “Pretend that it doesn’t kill me that I missed so much of his life.”

“You don’t have to pretend,” you whisper and Luke hears the pain and genuine sentiment in your voice. It almost makes him feel better to know you don’t expect him to be okay with it, that he doesn’t have to put on a strong front or act detached from his emotions. He looks over at you and a realization hits him.

“I don’t want to”—Luke begins and shakes his head and all of the anxieties inside of him—“but I can’t help it. I look at you and him and how bonded you are, I see all of the time I missed to have that with him. I look at you and I blame you.”

“I know,” you say and shock Luke, leave him coming up short and make his heart beat uncomfortably hard in his chest. He didn’t expect that. “And I’m sorry.”

Luke sighs and feels his emotions spike. “Could you really not find me?”

He waits with bated breath, heart beating out the time it takes for you to respond. He feels himself cool, the accusations and blame boiling over and sending a chill up his spine. He instantly feels regret bite at him when he sees how glossy your eyes have gotten and how distant you become.

“I tried,” you say and it sounds like a promise, a plea for Luke to understand. “I wrote you but I didn’t know where to send the letters.”

It goes silent for a moment and Luke collects himself. He realizes you did all you could given the circumstances. One night stands didn’t usually wind up like this. Without his number or address it was all just shots in the dark trying to find him.

“And I was scared,” you admit in a whisper and Luke furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Suddenly I was pregnant and alone and didn’t know how to find you; I didn’t know if you’d believe me if I did.”

Luke sags, his shoulders dropping and weight sinking back into the couch. He didn’t know that. Didn’t think that you might fear his response, fear that he may not believe you or take Robbie as his own.

“I believe you,” Luke says and turns back to you. “I’m sorry too. I don’t blame you, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Moonlight and pain sparkle your eyes as they gaze at the floor. Luke watches your hands, your fingers curling into your palms and dragging across the length of your legs.

“Do you want me to go?” you ask and Luke feels a hidden meaning within the question.

“No, please don’t,” he responds quickly. He reaches a hand out and captures yours, he hasn’t felt a spark simmer under his skin in a long while, but with emotions on high and the night being so dark he feels it under his skin and in his bones. “Stay with me?”

You nod and Luke feels a little bit less lonely as the night fades away.

***

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[angstysebfan]

The Truth Will Set You Free- Part 3

Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader, Thor x Reader (other Avenger characters)

AU: Modern

Summary: You dated for two years, and thought he was the one for you. One day you came home and found him with someone else. After running away from you, you return home and found yourself in the arms of Thor. When Thor decides to introduce you to his friends at a dinner, you realize that there’s something familiar about the house you were visiting.

Warnings: implied cheating, language

--

Steve allowed you and Bucky to go up to his guest room to talk without being interrupted. You walk into the room, and immediately start to pace, as Bucky walks in and closes the door. He watches you with a mix of guilt, sadness, and relief that you are here.

Bucky never thought he would see you again, and that thought killed him. When you left that day, he thought he was going to die from the pain. He shut himself out from everyone, because nothing was going to take the pain of losing you away. You refused to answer any calls or texts, and when he went to your job and heard you were transferred, he knew that he had lost you forever.

Now he stands in a room with you as you pace, and he worries that even though he has an excuse for what you saw, he might be too late, and you have moved on with Thor. Bucky takes a deep breath and tries to find some courage to speak.

“Y/N?” he says softly, which makes you stop pacing and glare at him.

“Tell me, Bucky. Tell me now. Why did you cheat on me?” you ask angrily, trying to hold back tears.

Bucky wants nothing more than to grab you and hold you, but he walks further into the room and sits on the bed. He looks at his hands for a moment before turning his beautiful blue eyes on you. “I didn’t cheat on you,” he says.

You scoff in disbelief, “I know what I saw that day, Bucky!” you scream and start pacing again. 

“I know what you saw, but it wasn’t what you thought. I never cheated on you. I would never have cheated on you. I love you!” Bucky says as he stands and stops you from pacing but grabbing your arms.

You violently pull away from him, “Oh please! You and Nat sleeping in our bed, naked?” you say sarcastically. Who did he think he was kidding?

“We weren’t naked,” he said calmly.

You stare at him, blinking a few times. You remember that day. You have that image ingrained into your memory. Was he just messing with you? You open your mouth to respond, but Bucky beats you to it.

“I didn’t have a shirt on, but I was wearing sweats. Nat at that tube top thing on that you wear sometimes. We were both wearing clothes. I mean I can understand how it looked, but I swear I didn’t cheat on you,” Bucky said.

You don’t know how to respond. How can you honestly know if he is telling you the truth or not? So many questions entered your mind at once, you didn’t know which to ask first. You take a deep breath and try to calm down your nerves. The adrenaline seems to have evaporated and you now feel exhausted from todays events.

“Ok, let’s just say, for arguments sake, I believe that you were wearing clothes. Why was she sleeping with you in our bed? Why did you have your shirt off?” you ask looking out the window, not knowing if you could handle looking at him at the moment.

“I-I want to tell you everything, but I am not sure how much I can actually tell you. I know that sounds bad, but there are things that I am not at liberty to tell,” he says.

You glare at him and stand, “Then there is nothing left to discuss. If you cannot be honest with me, then we are done here,” you say as you start walking toward the door.

Bucky grabs your wrist, “No! Please! Don’t leave. There are things I can say. If you are not satisfied after what I have to say then I will see if I can tell you the whole story. I know this sounds crazy and maybe it is, but I really want to explain my side. Please?” Bucky begs.

You sit back on the bed and nod for Bucky to continue. “Ok,” Bucky breathes. “I should have worn a shirt. I was working on my bike outside when Nat showed up. It was really hot out, so I didn’t have my shirt on. Even when we went it, I was just so warm that I kept it off. I should have put one anyway but there it is,” he says shaking his head.

“Nat came over to talk to me about something. That’s the part I can’t really disclose without her permission. But she was really upset. We were in the living room and she was crying and I was trying to console her. After awhile, she fell asleep. I decided to leave her on the couch, and went into our room to nap myself. Next thing I knew, you were barging into the door screaming and Nat was in the bed with me,” Bucky says, looking at you sadly.

“You really expect me to believe that you had no idea Nat joined you in our bed?” you ask.

“Y/N, if you recall, I didn’t sleep well the night before because of nightmares. I passed out and I am dead serious when I say, I had no idea Nat followed me into the room I swear,” he says, hoping to god you believe him.

You stare out the window, taking in everything he said. I mean you could remember him not sleeping the night before, so it would make sense that when he fell asleep that he completely passed out. But Nat going into your bed is so inappropriate! Why won’t he tell you what their discussion was?

“What did you and Nat talk about?” you ask quietly.

Bucky sighs, knowing you were going to ask that question. “If you give me a moment to ask her if it’s ok. I will tell you, but I’m afraid I can’t without her permission,” Bucky says.

You look at him and wonder if you should allow him to bring Nat into your conversation. You don’t understand why he can’t just tell you. Will it even matter? You sigh and rub your brow as your thoughts fly through your head. 

“I- I have to go find Thor,” you surprise yourself by saying. Bucky looks down and can’t help the tears that start falling down his cheeks.

“I know you care about him, but--”

“I am falling for him Bucky. Even if what you say is true, and I am the asshole in this story. I’ve moved on. I’m sorry, but you moved on too. You and Nat are dating, so maybe we should just close this chapter and move on,” you say, as tears start to fall down your cheeks as well.

“Nat and I are not dating. I haven’t dated anyone since you. You are it for me. Please, Y/N,” he begs. 

It breaks your heart to hear his voice crack at the end of his plea. You sniff and stand.

“I have to think about this. I need to talk to Thor. I-I don’t know what will happen from here,” you say as you grab your things and walk to the door. You stop and turn toward Bucky, who continues to sit on the bed and silently sob.

“I’ll reach out to you, and hopefully you can tell me everything, but I can’t waste anymore time here and let Thor think I don’t care about him,” you say, feeling guilty for leaving Bucky like this.

Bucky stands and walks over to you. “I will tell you everything. I will make sure it’s ok, but I need you to know that I still am irrevocably in love with you. I know you care for Thor, but I want you to think if there is any love left for me, because as far as I am concerned, you are the only one for me,” he says before kissing the top of your head and leaving the room.

You stand there in a shock for a second before coming to your senses and heading back downstairs, your Uber already being called. You don’t bother to say anything to anyone and just head out of the house. In a few minutes, your ride picks you up and you head toward Thor’s apartment. You hope that he will let you apologize.

Your emotions and thoughts are everywhere. You know you still love Bucky, and yes you have deep feelings for Thor. Now you are in a position to make a choice, but you want all the facts first, plus you don’t know if Thor will even take you back.

You sit in your Uber and silently cry as you realize the pickle you are truly in.

--

Part 2 / Part 4

What do you guys think of Bucky’s excuse? What could Nat be hiding and will it make a difference? Will Thor forgive Y/N and his friends? Who should Y/N choose when it comes down to it? So many questions, so little time! Feedback is appreciated! 

Please forgive me if you asked for a tag and I did not add you. I got a lot of people asking, and I think I got everyone, but if you did request, and were not added, please let me know.

Permanent Taglist:  @hailmary-yramliah @tuiccim @comedictragedy @cap-n-stuff @thefridgeismybestie @swiftmind @aleaisntcreative @lookiamtrying @pinknerdpanda @morganclaire4 @iamvalentinaconstanza @verygraphicink @im-squished @joannie95 @peace-love-hobbitness @connie326 @amandamdiehl @harrysthiccthighss @its-izzys @roserose26 @rebekahdawkins @elegantobservationstudentsblog @broco8 @shinykoalacat @white-wolf1940

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[talesofphantombandits]

Zero to Six ~ First Impressions Count - Edited Version. Part 4.

Characters: Four X Zero (OC)

Summary: Zero was the first person to be ‘saved’ by One, she was his first honorary Ghost. Her knowledge in tech meant she got the role of ‘Hacker’ she recruited new team members, looked for missions and locations and made sure every security measure was looked at. You know normal hacker spy stuff. But her tough up bringing meant that if needs be she could fight, she was maybe even better than some people on the team knew. But due to One’s protectiveness over her she had to stay hidden, she was more of an actual ghost than the rest of the team was. This didn’t mean she couldn’t have her fun though, over the months of being with the full team she had formed quite a passionate love/ hate relationship with the handsome Four. Who knows what sparks would fly if they were ever to meet.  Warnings: Slight swearing, some suggestive flirting in later chapters.

Tagg list: (I know this is a edit of my original story but if anyone wants to be tagged let me know.) @raylan-c 

“Earth to Lilly.” 

Zero barley saw the hand in front of her face, she was too busy trying to not look around the room for Four that her assigned name for the mission didn’t register with her. But when she finally noticed the movement in front of her she looked up to see Five accompanied by the man she entered with. 

“Hi, what would you guys like to drink?” She praised herself for saving it, the guy probably just thought she was having a bad day or something, it didn’t really matter as he stumbled away from the bar, probably too drunk to notice any thing that was going on. 

“You okay?” Five leaned on the bar so she was closer to Zero. She looked towards the back of the room where Four stood now with a pretty blonde on his arm. “Scrubs up well doesn’t he?” 

Zero looked from Four to the beautiful woman in front of her. “You nervous?” 

Zero shook her head, letting out a short laugh. “Why would I be nervous? It’s not like he’s going to ever know who I am, even if he does come over to the bar. He’ll never know he talked to Zero, the infamous hacker.” 

“You two clicked so easily the first time we all met, I’m pretty sure it’s going to happen the same way in person.” Zero picked up a glass and started drying it just to distract herself. 

Suddenly more people came up and crowded the bar around Five, Zero stood up straighter and got back into character. “What would you like to drink Ma’am.” 

“A Tequila on the rocks with a lime would do just nicely.” Five smiled at her, putting her arms onto the bar. Zero just raised her eyebrows but smiled and got started on the drink. 

She finished the drink and slid it across the bar to which Five caught and took a swig, “Keep the change sweetie.” She winked as she threw a few dollars at Zero.

She scoffed as the woman pushed off the bar and made her way back to the sleazy guy who now had his arm around another woman.

“Hey Lilly, will you go change barrel 2, cheers darling.” Her manger for the night tapped her on the shoulder. 

Maybe a trip to the cellar would clear her head of any thoughts of Four, she’d need a clear head to be able to concentrate on the mission in hand. And not to be drooling over Four.

This was the only time she wished she could have her coms on her, the sound of Three’s accent would definitely calm her nervous. She knew there was a chance Four would come up to the bar at some point and with only her and another dude working there was a 50/50 chance he’d come to her to be served.

As she reached the top of the cellar stairs and started to make her way down the hall, the sounds of party goers got louder, and as she turned the corner to go back to her spot behind the bar she stopped dead in her tracks.

Leaning against the bar right where she was suppose to be serving was Four, he was looking around the room analysing who was the best person to get information from no doubt. She couldn’t help but fight for breath as he ran his hand through his slicked black blonde hair, why did this man have to look so fine?

She only snapped back to reality when her bar mate slightly shoved her to move out the way so he could get to the liqueur behind her. She finally worked up the confidence to make her way over to Four so she could take his drink order, when a very beautiful blonde woman walked into his arms, wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his neck. Zero almost froze again out of shock but she was distracted by another man in front of her demanding a drink.

Guess you could say saved by the bell? Once she had served the man she finally made her way over to Four and the woman. She could tell as she got closer that they were flirting, she felt a sudden irritation that, that woman wasn’t her but shook it off when she remembered this was a mission and One would kill Four with his bare hands if he ever started any sort of relationship outside of the ghosts.

“What can I get you both?” The Irish accent was so foreign to her, one of the other things that her and Four had bonded over was that they were both British, so I guess you could say the change in accent was vital to not giving away her identity. She played it off though as Four placed his order without even looked her way. Too distracted by the blonde that was now sucking on his neck like a vampire, this made Zero gag in disgust.

She got to making the order of a big glass of rosé wine and a beer, it distracted her from the rated R scene unfolding in front of her. As she placed the wineglass on the counter the woman finally looked up and saw her alcohol was ready to consume.

“Are you trying to get me drunk sir?” She giggled and leaned into him again.

Zero just rolled her eyes, she placed the beer bottle a little too hard on the counter. A drop of beer flew out over the rim of the glass and splashed on his jacket sleeve and hand. Four’s eyes instantly snapped up to Zero’s, she was taken aback by how deep the green of his eyes were.

She had to take a step back. “Whoops.”  She titled her head, raising a eyebrow as Four just stared at her in shock. Her eyes were momentarily directed to the blonde by his side as she scoffed in disgust at the interaction, or the loss of attention she was now getting.  

Zero just smiled at the woman, then decided to let Four mull over the tiny interaction for a bit as she made her way a little down the bar to serve other people.  All the time she worked she could feel Fours eyes burning into the side of her head, she couldn’t help but laugh at how she knew the blonde was reacting when she caught him staring. She knew there was definitely a connection between herself and Four, It was strong just talking over coms but here right in front of him she felt like she was on fire. The worst thing being that she couldn’t do anything about it, it pained her greatly that he was sat there, right in front of her and he didn’t even know who she was. 

She wondered if he’d felt it too, the electricity between them. By the way he kept looking over at her she had a feeling he had, but she couldn’t rush to conclusions not when One wouldn’t hear any of her pleas to meet the team in person. He either shouted at her or just completely ignored her. As she made her way back to the couple she noticed the blonde woman walking off, she highly doubt she’d leave Four’s side for very long. She probably left to go to the little girls room, Zero took this as a sign to go see if he wanted another drink and if not this was her chance to talk to him without his annoying friend. 

She’d only took two steps in Four’s direction when a hand grabbed her upper arm, she looked at it with a bored expression. Her eyes trailing up the arm to find a very drunk old man, with a red and blotchy face looking back at her.  This is the one thing she didn’t miss about social interaction, the creeps that think they can just lay their hands on woman without permission, she was going to enjoy messing this guy up. 

He leaned over the bar as far as he could. “Get me a drink wench.” He slurred.

She turned to face him calmly. “I suggest you get your hand off of me, and act a bit more respectfully. Do you know where you are sir?” She tried not to show in her voice just how irritated she was. This guy was so drunk he couldn’t even look Zero in the eye without going cross eyed. 

She sensed movement to her right. “She asked you to let go of her mate.” She turned to look at Four who just winked at her.  The cheek of this guy. 

But Zero could handle herself, she’d had two years in seclusion with no fun what was causing a little chaos? Sure One would have something to say about it but she wasn’t scared of him.  She suddenly covered the mans hand with her free hand and pulled his arm until his full body crashed against the bar, it was hard enough to shock the man back to his senses but not enough to make a big scene. He started to struggle and pant against the hard wood, Zero bent down so the guy could see her. 

“When a lady asks you to let her go, you let go.” She let go of him, he shot up and gave her a cold stare. “Learn some manners, or the next woman you piss off won’t let you off so kindly.” He stumbled away but not without muttering a ‘Bitch’ in her direction. 

She knew that Four was still off to the side, she looked over and saw the entertained look on his face. “I’d say thank you but I did all the work, so I won’t.” She said as she cleared some glasses to be washed off the bar. 

“Hey, I was enjoying the show, plus I wouldn’t have stopped you from hurting that ass-hole. Besides, it looked like you had it all under control I was just going to jump in if things got ugly.” He sat back in the stool right in front of where she started cleaning the glasses. 

“Still it wouldn’t be a good night in a bar without a fight would it?” She smiled up at Four only to find him already staring at her in awe, she didn’t know when they had lent in so close to each other. But the moment between them was ruined when the high pitched shrill of the blonde was heard over Four’s shoulder. Zero sighed and moved back again.

“Baby.” She slurred more than she had earlier, Zero was in no doubt she’d taken something in the restroom. “Grab me another wine and come cuddle with me in the booth.” She rested up against him again and give him the ugliest puppy dog eyes Zero had ever seen. 

‘I hope she’s worth the information Four’ Zero thought to herself. The best way of getting information on old rich men was getting his sugar baby drunk and send in a younger more handsome man to seduce her, that was Four’s tactic anyway. 

As soon as Zero put the wine glass on the bar the blonde snatched it up and took a big gulp, she then started to pull Four off to a booth in the back.  Zero wished for more time talking to Four, hell she even wished it was her pulling him off to a dark booth in the back. She shook her head, she’d never have that but it’s okay because she knew One wouldn’t approve anyway.  

Before the blonde could pull Four completely away from the bar he turned to Zero and mouthed a ‘sorry’ paired with a charming smile that made her heart sing.  To her surprised the blonde also turned to look back at Zero, she gave her the slimmest of grins. Like she knew she’d ultimately won Four’s affections, Zero’s only response was to flip her off. To which the blonde scoffed and disappeared into the darker corner of the room. 

Zero’s mind wandered to what Four thought she looked like, if he thought she was like the blonde he would be sourly disappointed. She wanted to ask One if Four had ever enquired about her but she knew the answer she’d get if she ever asked anything about Four. 

Zero served for another hour or so, and it was just her luck that right as her shift was about to end a fight broke out. She thought this was suppose to be a classy place, but then again where there is booze there’s going to be fights.

 She leapt over the bar to try help the other people break it up but in the process she got sucker punched by one of the guys who totally missed his mark.  She fell to the floor but was quickly helped by a nice woman how offered to look at her wound, she declined. Convincing the woman she’d be fine and promising to put ice on it when she got home. 

Zero was making her way to the back exit when she felt her phone buzz in her pocket, she stopped just outside the fire exit. It was One calling for a debrief in one of the hotel kitchens. The text must have been meant for only her and Five, so she made her way out of the exit and found the backpack with a change of clothes she’d hidden as she’d come in.  She changed into some black leather pants, a black top with long mesh sleeves and a leather jacket. She took the wig off, ruffling out her naturally short hair and stuffed it in the backpack with everything else then tossed it into a nearby dumpster. 

She set off and rounded the front of the building, entering the main lobby like a normal guest she was supposed to be.  When she finally entered the back kitchen she was relived to only see Five, who turned and looked at Zero when she closed the door behind her. Her face soon fell to shocked, like she wasn’t expecting her to be there Zero was about to ask what that was all about but Five rushed forwards. 

“Zero your lip!” It was only in this moment that Zero felt the wetness on her chin, she reached a hand up only to pull it away and see the crimson liquid on her finger tips. “Here take a seat.”  Zero did as Five asked and hoisted herself up on a counter top. 

Five turned and walked away, only returning in front of Zero when she had located the medical kit.

She was cleaning the blood off of Zero’s chin with what she assumed was a septic wipe when One appeared in the kitchen, he took one look at Zero then went feral.  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” 

Taken aback at his sudden outburst, Zero held her hands up. “Woah! what do you mean what am I doing here? You sent me a text to meet in the kitchens!” 

“What! no I didn’t, I only sent that to the rest of the team.” Zero held up her phone to show One he definitely sent her the text. 

He swore under his breath and proceeded to barrel towards her. “You need to leave! right now!.” But before he could get her off the surface of the work top they all heard laughter and talking coming towards them from the hall.

One backed off, run his hand through his hair, nervous at the events that were about to unfold. 

“I’m telling you! you should have seen it, it was like she was sucking the soul out of his body. She was literally eating his face.” Three laughed as he held the door open for Two and Four. “Poor Four didn’t know what to do with himself, the only action he’s seen recently is over coms with Zero!” Three poked a red faced Four in the chest while laughing at his discomfort.   Both were blissfully unaware of the three people standing behind them panicked, this wasn’t suppose to happen, Zero was never meant to be the same room with the full team, she didn’t even have time to process how happy she was to see her only family finally in front of her.

As his laughter died down, Three and Four turned to the middle of the room. Three hosting himself up on a counter and Four leaning on the door frame. Two had been seizing Zero up the moment she stepped into the room, typical of an ex spy always fully alert. Zero thought to herself that she wouldn’t be at all surprised if Two knew exactly who she was. 

When it finally registered, the whole room went silent the whole team just stared at Zero, even Five had stopped patching Zero’s lip up, she looked at her for help but Five suddenly found the floor to be extremely interesting. The only person not looking was One, who was leaning over a table most likely trying to come up with a solution to this disaster.

Out of everyone in that room she had expected Two to be the one to make the first move, she was however shocked when it was Four who spoke up. “Are we just not going to discuss the stranger in the room? Why is the bartender here?” So he recognised her, he tilted his head cutely as they stared each other down. This little shit also had the audacity to smirk at her. “and why is Five giving her first aid?” 

[callisto-rants]

Starting a new ✨series✨ that no one asked for! ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

Callisto-Rants presents...

Here's my Two Cents

Where we just throw down our two cents on how we would change a series to make it better, in our own personal opinion.

[You can Block this tag if you're not interested in this series: #Here's Our Two Cents]

Here's my Two Cents

Yarichin Bitch Club.

Ever since I had the misfortune of having that opening theme song stuck in my head because of countless memes and tiktok edits. . . I have wished for days to have the ability to create a time machine to prevent myself from saying. . .

"okay, fine I'll bite the bullet and check out the source material."

Now if you're reading this and thinking, "huh. I never heard of this series..." let me just tell you, GOD I WISH I WAS YOU RIGHT NOW.

No one was going to tell me this BL Manga about a "pHoTogRaPhY cLuB" wasn't completely INSANE? I was just supposed to find out Three Volumes Later??

Now some of y'all who have read the source material might be thinking. . .

"Okay Callisto, get over it it's obviously supposed to be a comedy it's not meant to be taken seriously 🙄"

And to that I say... I mean I guess??? But do we really need all of THAT to make it a comedy?? I feel like you could still have an entertaining comedy BL Manga without 90% of the shit that goes on in that series..... But that's just ✨my two cents✨ take it or leave it.

FIRST THINGS FIRST, here's all the stuff I'd automatically remove from this series off the bat.

💀 The Gang Bangs.

💀 Teacher x Student Relationships.

💀 In fact all instances of unconsensual acts & sexual assault committed in this manga. Throw all of that away.

💀 the fact that the term Bisexual was used as a replacement for the term switch, and had nothing to do with the sexual orientation itself whatsoever.

💀 The High School Setting.

💀 Whatever the fuck Yuri was on.

💀 90% of the hyper sexualized traits these characters had.

Now here's what I'd change to make it better... Basically here's an AU of what if it was actually a normal photography club....

Actually make it a fucking Photography Club. Not a sex club that's in a fuckin HIGH SCHOOL. Hell, you could just throw this in a college setting too, for more mature themes.

Main character, Takashi Toono a college student that's trying to get out of his comfort zone more. So he decides to join the photography club, because he thinks it's not demanding to require anything of him compared to any other club on campus. He knows completely NOTHING about photography, and doesn't have any passion for the art media. His Character growth would be learning to appreciate the art media While learning what it means to him, as well as who he wants to be as he enters the adult world as a young adult.

Yuu Kashima, can stay as Takashi's love interest. Also, I feel like all the members should have a specific style of taking photos that correlates with their personality in some way. Yuu's photography style would be something the lines of Candid photography which is a type of photography style that's main focus is to take photos in the moment or in surprise. Something he has already done when he took that photo of Takashi. I also feel like Yuu would be the one to keep pushing Takashi to love photography, and understand it's more than snapping a photo.

Kyousuke Yaguchi, can stay as the Love Rival for Yuu Kashima and overall keep his personality? It was actually pretty interesting and I liked his Character dynamics with everyone else. Kyousuke Yaguchi can also stay as the outsider that directly / indirectly influences Everyone else in the club. Causing Takashi to explore his feelings and expand his social group, and make him think about what he wants to capture in his photos. Overall the same interaction between Kyousuke & Yuu Kashima with their rivalry and brotherly relationship at it's breaking point. As well as, Kyousuke and Yui's relationship being tense with miscommunication.

Yui Tamura, I imagine Yui's photography style would be more of Adventure (capturing shots in the great outdoors, usually involving extreme sports; mountain-climbing, skiing, kayaking, sky diving, etc) & Sports Photography. Which could create interesting interactions between Kyousuke and Yui. Cue Yui trying to cover up the fact that, every time the soccer club commissions Yui to take some photos of their club activity to promote their club, all of Yui's photos are of Kyousuke playing soccer. Causing Yui to complain to Kyousuke to get out of his shots and that he's ruining them by being in all of them. So, Kyousuke just shouts back "then stop following me around with your camera, DUMBASS". Just imagine Them bickering, because Yui 100% did not delete the photo he captured of Kyousuke getting knocked out by a soccer ball to the face.

Itsuki Shikatani would definitely be in the club, but only because he prefers to have his photos be taken, more than he likes taking photos himself. He would probably be a cross dresser, who enjoys dressing up in feminine articles of clothing and posing for photos. Everyone on campus who doesn't know Itsuki personally, always asks who the beautiful woman in these photos are, the club president and vice President always just says it's one of their cousins that happen to be in town. If Itsuki had to have a style of photography, it would probably be fashion.

Toru Fujisaki. . . This one is difficult only because his Character is purely centered around Yuki's Character. . . So I'm going to take some creative liberties here. . . Probably really insecure about himself, because he feels like he's a wall flower that's really forgettable, that no one cares about. Although, it's mostly because he's shooting himself in the foot by not letting one have the opportunity to get to know him to give him a chance, in the first place. Until, he meets Yuki who makes him realize that not everyone sees him as a wall flower and someone can notice his nicer qualities about himself that he's hiding away. Toru's Character development in this AU, would be for for him to learn to love himself more and try to trust people to accept him. As well as to expand his social circle with the support of not only Yuki, but the Photography Club as well. At first I bet, he would only feel comfortable with Yuki taking his photos and modeling only for him, but over time he'd let the other club members take his photo when he gets more confident in himself. While also, developing his own style of photography, that isn't just "cute photos of Yuri", it would probably be Still Life or Portrait.

Ayato Yuri, okay first. . . I'm still not over the fact that this boy was written like a deranged feral child, that was given access to a pornhub account way too early in life. While being dropped on his head several times, before and after his first words. Anyhow. . . I feel like Yuri would fit the trope of the genius, that no one understands in any capacity. His mind is 10 steps ahead of everyone else and he forgets to slow down and explain what the fuck he's talking about, when he goes into a passionate rant about photography. With endless rambles about golden ratio, gold lighting and blue lighting, and how he needs these specific props, that don't seem to fit the theme of the photo at all to make it perfect. But despite that, his photos always come out beautifully. No one can deny that his methods might be extremely weird, but they always work out way too well to give anyone the opportunity to chastise him. Anyone trying to work with Yuri often leaves the experience with a beautiful photo in hand, but an enormous headache. Even members within the photography club can't keep up with Yuri most of the time either, he's often in his own little world that just makes sense to only him. He can be a eccentric and passionate about his hobby and goofy to not make people feel too uncomfortable with the huge distance he unintentionally places between himself and others when he doesn't bother to slow down for anyone. But, he still has a good heart to make sure everyone gets a piece of art that'll always be memorable to them. Additionally, with that being said I feel like Toru would be the few people that would consistently attempt to keep up with Yuri, when he's a light year away from everyone else in his rambles. Toru wouldn't shut down and show disinterest in what Yuri says when he can no longer keep up, he's always being supportive and encouraging Yuri to continue because he knows it makes him happy to be able to express his passion. And sometimes, Yuri will pause and explain a bit to let Toru keep up with him, because he just truly appreciates someone trying to get closer to him, without making him feel bad. I would say Yuri is a jack of all trades when it comes to Photography styles. There isn't a single style he is terrible at, but he truly excels at Abstract Photography.

Koshiro Itome I think Koshiro would fit the silent type trope, but with a lot on his mind. Always over thinking things, and although he looks calm his mind is always buzzing with 500 things at once. Because, of this the only way he can find some semblance of peace is by going out for a nature walk and letting the environment take his mind off things. He's always worries about deadlines for projects, meeting up with clients face to face for the first time, whether or not a company will like his photos he submitted, if his boyfriend Akemi is okay, what if he doesn't find anything to take a picture of or if he's missing the perfect shot right now, will the club be okay after they all graduate, what else can be learn to improve his skills etc etc. Akemi can always tell when he's actually calm and when he's just zoned out and drowning in his own worries behind his calm demeanor. Luckily for Akemi, he knows exactly what to do to make him feel better, like a life boat to his pleas for help in the vast ocean of his thoughts. Koshiro is 100% the mom friend in the club, always helping newbies out on how to properly take care of their equipment, and the general basics, stopping people from bickering and carrying around a Mary Poppins bag of useful items. "Damn I forgot to bring my infrared lens with me!" "It's okay I brought a spare, here you go." Koshiro's photography style would be Nature & Wild life, cue everyone wondering how the hell he managed to capture a photo of baby bear and it's mother so close up with such clarity with the equipment he has on him. It should be impossible there's no way he could it's just unlikely, but all Koshiro does in response is just shrugging calmly "I just slowly walked up to them, and took some photos and went my way after I was done, they weren't bothered at all." At first no one believes him, until they see the next photo of him petting the mother bear, and within the next photo of him holding the baby bears paw. I like to think Akemi is always bragging at how his boyfriend is basically a Disney Prince, with the way animals just trust him enough to let Koshiro approach to take the photos. Of course Akemi has the proof that his Boyfriend is not making any of these up. With photo evidence he had taken from a incredibly safe distance away, of Koshiro just interacting with wildlife at such a close distance. Because, Akemi was not in fact gifted the ability of a Disney prince, to be doing that shit that Koshiro pulls on a daily basis. I feel like because of this Akemi can be a bit over protective of Koshiro, always telling him to text him before he goes to work and he gets back home, so he knows a feral bear didn't devour his boyfriend in the woods. He tries his best to join Koshiro while he works so he can be at peace of mind that Koshiro is in fact safe, but they both know it's very difficult for Koshiro to focus. When his boyfriend is being incredibly cute how could he remember he's here to take photos of the wild life and not his boyfriend? That and Akemi always accidentally scares away the wildlife, when he accidentally reads the animals body language wrong as any attempt to devour his boyfriend. Akemi will lose 25 years of his life with amount of false alarms, he has encountered in those damn woods.

Keiichi Akemi, Akemi is definitely one of those smug bastards, that has an ulterative motive or an ace up his sleeve. Appearing sweet and kind until you realize it was a facade. But one way or another you find yourself wrapped up in his convoluted plans, where you're either in his photoshoot as a model or you're carrying all his equipment, while he goes from one job to the next. Akemi's photography style would be Wedding Photography & Landscape something he definitely would've picked up from the countless outings he had with Koshiro in the outdoors. Akemi's friends are almost always married or paired up together, and that's no coincidence. This man is a match-making demon, a hopeless romantic who loves to see a budding romance finally bloom. So, he can snag a fat check when they thank him for brining them together and hire him as the official wedding photographer. His intuition is never wrong about the perfect pairings and how to push the right buttons to move things along, without getting directly involved until the right time comes. Something, that will be a pain in Toono's ass down the line as he stays in the Photography Club.

Overall, I feel like this could've been a really nice BL Manga which was a love letter to the art media of Photography. As Toono figures out what Photography means to him and how he wants to use it to express his feelings. "Why do you take photos? What do you want to say in these photos and tell people without the ability of using your words?" I feel like at first Toono, would just be confused "it's just a photo what's so special about it? You take it as a cool momento for something."

But, as time goes on, and he learns why everyone in the club enjoys photography and why they're here, he learns it's more than that. Whether it be to vent something you're unable to express in words, express your love for something or someone, to tell a story, to inspire others, to feel free, to share something with someone. All these different forms of expression, will let Toono figure out what he wants from photography and how he plans on expressing it.

Also instead of the whole "have sex with someone in one month or we gang bang you against your will" dilemma. . . I feel like another suspenseful situation could have been, "Create a photo album, that will impress all of us in one month, or you have to help us all out with our next projects." Which at first doesn't sound terrible, until you remember...

Yui is a thrill seeker, and would probably push you off a cliff to snag a cool photo. Or force you to be his pack mule as you climb up serval mountains.

Itsuki would force you to cross dress and model different fashion styles to make you look like a clown for his own amusement. All the while he revels in your shame, and points out how these colors don't suit you at all, but ignores the fact he's the one who put you in that outfit in the first place.

Yuri is such a wild card that you honest to God don't know what the fuck will happen to you, it'll be like being on an acid trip the whole time. And not knowing what will happen brings you more fear than knowing what will.

Koshiro would probably bring you to a wolf den full of hungry ravenous wolves, and let you accidentally get eaten alive by a pack of wolves. While he takes pictures of puppies, without a care in the world.

Akemi... Akemi just scares Toono, he seems like the safest bet out of everyone else. But Toono knows better to trust that sweet smile. Toono would be safer walking into Satan's house than spend a day with Akemi at work. Whatever he would have planned for them if he were to lose this challenge would not be good for his sanity. He hates how he knows Akemi wants just that for Toono to know he's not going to be safe either. Akemi would probably make him cry with prying questions about his romance life. While hitting too close to home with all his assumptions about him that he can't argue back. It's losing battle from there on out.

The only problem for Toono is Everyone in this club is so different, that it's almost impossible to be able to impress them all. None of them agree, which style is better or having almost anything in common photography style wise. Toono can't just half-heartedly replicate anyone's style either, he's going to actually try and fail miserably to understand this art media better, like everyone else. I think after losing the challenge and spending time with everyone, Toono would come to really like the club and everyone else in it.

And that's my ✨two cents✨ on how this story could've been better if it didn't focus too much on the whole pwp aspect.

Take it or leave it.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Puzzles & Pleas

A JSE Fanfic

A new part whoooo! As I’m writing this description I’m very tired so I’m not sure what to say. We’re basically following up directly from the last part, like literally only a few hours later. Chase and Marvin are having a nice visit with Jack, and at the exact same time, their other three friends are having a variety of bad times with Anti. Fun fun fun! Well, not for the characters, but probably for us. Enjoy :)

You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!

“You look nervous.”

“I’m not.”

“I mean, it’s understandable if you are—”

“I’m not fucking nervous, Chase.”

The elevator doors opened, forcibly stopping the brief exchange. Chase stepped out onto the third floor, glancing back over his shoulder at Marvin. “Well, if you were, I was just gonna say it’s okay to be. Now c’mon.”

Marvin hesitated. Despite what his protests would indicate, he did look rather anxious. He kept twisting the edge of his shirt around. But he took a moment to steady himself and followed Chase out of the elevator, saying nothing.

“It’s just the same room,” Chase said, gesturing down the hospital hallway. “Let’s go.”

They walked in silence for a while, passing by closed doors, each with a room beyond. Chase kept looking back towards Marvin. This would probably be the first time he’d left his house in a couple weeks, something that Chase knew from experience wasn’t good for your health. Marvin looked fine, physically. His hair was combed and pulled back in a ponytail, his shirt and pants neat. But he just seemed...not as energetic. If that made sense. Hopefully, this would be good for him.

They soon reached the room they were looking for. Chase was about to knock on the door when Marvin suddenly asked, “Do you think he’ll be mad at me?”

Chase blinked. Then laughed, in an effort to lighten the mood. “Why would he be mad at you?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I hardly ever went to visit him.” Marvin continued to twist the hem of his shirt. “A-and I haven’t seen him at all since he woke up.”

“Marv. Trust me. Jack wouldn’t be mad at you for something like that.” Chase instinctively went to pat him on the back, but Marvin leaned away, so he dropped it and settled for a reassuring smile. “He’s not that type of guy.”

“Would he be...disappointed?” Marvin asked tentatively.”I-I don’t want to make him feel bad, he probably has enough to deal with—”

“It’s going to be alright, Marvin. Jack knows you didn’t mean to hurt him by not visiting. And besides, you’re visiting now, aren’t you? So it all works out.” Chase waited for Marvin to say more, but he just nodded, breathing out slowly. “Alright, we’re gonna go in now, okay?” Marvin nodded again, and Chase knocked on the door before slowly opening it. “Hello? It’s me.”

Jack turned to look towards the door. The moment he saw Chase, he smiled, and reached to the side and adjusted the controls of the bed to a sitting position. “Hii Shhays.”

“Hey bro. Look, I brought a friend.” Chase stepped into the room, allowing Marvin to take his place in the doorway.

Marvin froze for a moment. He stared at Jack, taking in the bed, the wires, the oxygen tube. Then he waved. “Um...hi.”

“Mahfin!” Jack grinned even wider. “‘S good t’see yuh!” He waved Marvin over.

“Ha. Y-yeah, good to see you, too.” Marvin stepped inside. “Oh, uh, d’you want this open?”

“S’fffine.”

“Alright, then.” He closed the door.

“Hey, c’mon, Marv, sit down.” Chase walked over to the side of the bed, indicating one of the nearby chairs. “Get comfy in the plastic hospital chair.”

Marvin laughed, and followed Chase over to the bed. They both sat, and Jack leaned over to pick up his communication board from the nearby table. He pointed to the How are you? box. 

“Eh. We’re alright, I guess,” Chase said, glancing at Marvin.

“I...well, I’ve been...” Marvin stopped, the words getting caught in his throat. “It’s fine, though. Probably nothing compared to what you’re going through.”

Jack frowned. It was a small, awkward gesture, something his facial muscles were still having trouble with. He indicated the I don’t think so box.

“What’s that s’posed to mean?” Marvin asked, confused.

“It means he’s doubting you,” Chase explained. Jack nodded.

“Well, I mean...it’s fine,” Marvin said slowly. “Honestly, I’d rather talk about you. Like, how are you doing? What are you doing? It can’t be too fun being stuck in here.”

Jack still looked unsure, but he shook his head, and tapped a box labeled I agree.

“You’ve got a TV in here now, though,” Chase said, pointing to the corner. A big box television sat on top of a wheeled cart. “It looks like the ones they used to bring into classrooms in elementary school, y’know?”

Marvin and Jack just stared at him. “I think that’s an American thing,” Marvin said. “Or at least, something that wasn’t common where we were from.”

“Ah. Well, they did it all the time. A couple classrooms had them bottled to the ceilings in the corner and you watched movies on it, but you were always too far away to see it properly.” Chase laughed a bit. “But still, there’s probably only so much TV you can take.”

Jack groaned, rolling his eyes. He emphatically tapped the I agree box.

Marvin smiled a bit. “Well, don’t you have hospital stuff to do? Like, examinations and shit?”

Jack pointed to the Yes box. “Therrs...th’rapy. Lotta it.”

“Yeah, like speech therapy, physical therapy, probably a million other kinds.” Chase nodded. “Oh, speaking of which, you sound much better! Good job, bro.”

“Thnkss.” Jack smiled a bit.

“Y’know, I did some, uh...I don’t know if it was physical therapy exactly, but I did some exercises as a kid,” Marvin recalled. “Because I was severely uncoordinated. Tripped over my own feet to the point Grandmam was worried about it.” He paused. “I don’t know what I mean by that. I guess I’m just saying I relate a bit. It’s probably not the same thing, though.”

“Nnoh, ‘sfine,” Jack assured him. “I geddid. Ah.” He made a face. “I. Get. It.”

“Good, then.” For a moment, there was just silence. It stretched long enough to get awkward, and just when Chase was about to change the subject, Marvin blurted out, “I’m sorry I never came to see you, Jack.”

Jack blinked. “Hm?”

“Well I did but—it wasn’t that often. A-and not since you woke up, and I’m really sorry about it, it’s just—I’ve been having...a...moment.” Marvin clenched his fists as he tried to find the words. Sign language wouldn’t work here; Jack couldn’t understand it. So he was stuck with verbal speech. Not always his strong suit. “You know, when you have...a moment? When it’s hard to do anything because you...don’t...really...feel like anything?” Chase nodded encouragingly, and Marvin took a deep breath. “It’s not because I didn’t want to come see you. I really did, I-I’m really happy you’re awake again! It’s just...my fault. I put it off for so long, and then I got nervous about it, like, that it would be weird to suddenly show up and start talking like nothing had happened—I-I do that a lot, y’know, that’s why I don’t really talk to anyone besides you guys—and it’s not you, it’s me, and I’m sorry.” He finished with a rush and then stopped, waiting, his posture stiff and tense.

Jack was quiet for a moment. Then, he leaned closer, reaching out and putting a hand on top of Marvin’s own. “Mahfin...Mmmahrf...Marrrfvin.” For a moment, he looked frustrated at his inability to pronounce his friend’s name properly, but then he took a deep breath, and moved on. “Mahrfin. ‘S not...yoh fahlt. Thin’s happen. ‘S alright. ‘M happy t’see yuh—yyou. Yohr herre now. An’ tha’s what’s...i-im....important.” And he smiled.

Marvin’s face swelled with a mix of emotions. Relief, hesitancy, joy. It brought tears to his eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Yeh. O’courrrse.”

“I...good. That’s...good.” Marvin wiped his eyes. “Y’know...if you’re having trouble, you could just call me Muffin or something, for the time being.”

Jack laughed. “Shurr, Maffin.”

The moment was interrupted by a faint buzzing sound. Chase jumped a bit, feeling something vibrate in his pocket. “Oh, uh, sorry guys.” He took out his phone, face turning red with embarrassment as the other two watched him. “I didn’t think anyone would be calling me.” He glanced at the screen. “Huh. I don’t recognize the number.”

“It’s probably spam,” Marvin dismissed.

“Maybe. Or it could be important. Like, the kids are in school now, what if their teacher’s calling?” Chase hesitated. “I’ll just—just see if it is spam, really quick.” He tapped the Accept button and pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello? Who’s this?”

—————— 

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. Something was squeezing his chest, his lungs—something was inside him, it was—no, no it wasn’t. This was panic. That had to be the explanation. He had to calm down, and—and do...something.

Schneep had woken up a few minutes ago. It took him a while to remember what happened before that. How someone had been in his room. No...not just someone. He knew—it was him, it was—there was no escape, there had never been any escape—

Okay. Calm down. Breathe. Focus on the facts. He was lying on the floor. In a strange room that he didn’t recognize. Near the wall. And he wasn’t alone. But he couldn’t focus on that fact now, it just made it hard to breathe again, thinking about being watched, being stared at, being—stop. Calm. Breathe.

Maybe if he looked around, it would help. But there wasn’t much to see in the room. The walls were dark gray, the floor was rough white carpet. There was a circular black rug in the middle. And a window with blinds. Besides those features, the only thing of note in the room was...a desk. And its chair, with someone sitting in it. But he didn’t want to look towards that. What about...the window? Was there anything outside?

He hesitated, and briefly glanced back towards the desk. It looked like the chair’s occupant was busy, attention fully focused on the computer monitors on the desk’s surface. But he knew he was still being watched. Perhaps...if he moved slowly, then it wouldn’t be too strange? It would be natural?

Deciding that was worth a shot, Schneep cautiously sat up. His head was still a bit dizzy, and heavy, too. He grimaced, then glanced out the window. The glass was a bit dirty, and looked unusually...thick, if that made sense. Outside, he could see a street corner, and houses. This room was in a house like that, then? And it was at an intersection, with a pair of street signs marking the roads that crossed here. Unfortunately, he couldn’t make out the street names this far away without his glasses. But one of them had some graffiti on it, a spray-painted square with a diamond inside it, and a black dot inside that. It might’ve been more elaborate than that, but again, he couldn’t quite make out the details.

“I see you.”

Schneep yelped, pressing against the wall as he turned to look towards the desk. Anti. He’d turned around in his desk chair and was staring at him now. Staring with those mismatched eyes that haunted his nightmares.

“Enjoying the view?” Anti nodded towards the window. “Sorry, not much to see. Nothing particularly helpful. Especially since you can’t read the street signs from this distance without your glasses.”

He knew what he was thinking?! Was he in his head again?! Schneep squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and opened them again. No, that wasn’t true. Anti was human, he’d never read his mind, humans couldn’t do that.

“What? Do you think you’re safe up here?” Anti tapped the side of his head and grinned. “Don’t be so sure. You’re so easy to—”

“Shut up, you are lying,” Schneep interrupted. “You—you cannot do that anymore. I know it’s a trick.”

“You don’t know anything,” Anti said, still grinning. “Because I’ve been watching you. I know you’ve heard me. And I know you’ve told others about me. Don’t you remember what I said about that? The more people know about me, the stronger I become.”

“That is more lies,” Schneep insisted, pressing his back to the wall. 

“I’ve never lied to you. And I’m not about to start now. I’ve been watching you. I know you’ve seen my shadow in the corners, and my eyes in the ceilings.”

“How do you know about that?!” Schneep shrieked.

“Because I sent them, of course. To keep an eye on you, make sure you didn’t break any rules.” Anti sighed dramatically and shook his head. “I hoped it wouldn’t be needed, but I thought, better safe than sorry. And it turns out I was right.”

Schneep pressed his hands to his ears, trying to block out Anti’s words. They had to be lies. He knew that Anti wasn’t some supernatural creature, he was just a man. Anti had to be guessing about the things he saw. Though...how did he guess about the eyes in the ceilings? Schneep couldn’t remember telling him about them, and that had to be a fairly specific hallucination. Maybe he really...? No, there had to be another explanation.

Anti laughed, and Schneep flinched at the sound. His eyes darted around the room once more. There was a door, but it was on the other side of the room, and he was willing to bet it was locked. Same with the window. He could try to break the window, but there was nothing to break it with. Unless he wanted to try and grab one of the computer monitors and throw it through the glass, but he knew he’d be overpowered if he tried.

“That’s right, you’ve got no way out,” Anti said, leaning back. “You’re lucky I haven’t tied you to a chair or anything. The only reason I haven’t done that is because you know it’s hopeless, anyway. Unlike certain others...wearing red jackets.”

Schneep felt a chill pass over him. Jackie. Of course. Anti still had him captive. “I-it’s different, now,” Schneep protested weakly. “They know about you, a-and me, and that we are not the same. They will be trying to rescue me this time.”

“Probably,” Anti admitted. He grabbed something off the desk and stood up, approaching. Schneep’s eyes widened, and he pressed further into the wall, pulling his legs and arms close. “That is, they’ll be trying a search and rescue as long as they think I’m involved.” Anti stopped, standing over Schneep, and leaned down. “So here’s what’s going to happen.” He showed him the thing he’d grabbed from the desk: a phone. “You’re going to call the lovely Dr. Laurens and tell her you left on your own.”

“What...wh-why would I do that?” Schneep stammered.

“Because you got scared. Because you didn’t feel safe in that hospital. Because you told her you saw Anti in the hospital rec room, and you think that he’s real, and that he can come after you.” Anti smiled. “It’s built on truth, isn’t it? Because you told her you saw me, didn’t you?”

Schneep stared at him in disbelief. He had told Laurens about seeing Anti in the rec room. At the time, he thought it was just him seeing things, but...had it been real? The whole time? And how did Anti know he’d told Laurens about that?

Because he hears your thoughts. He can twist them to control you.

No! No, that wasn’t real. But...the idea still lingered.

“What are you waiting for?” Anti held out the phone, staring at him. Staring, staring, staring. Always staring.

Schneep swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “..okay. I will call her.”

Anti didn’t say anything as he took the phone, still watching him as he dialed the phone number. Schneep tried not to think about it too much as he held the phone to his ear and listened to the call connect.

The other end rang for a long time, and Schneep swiftly grew afraid that nobody would pick up. But just when he thought it would hang up, the ringing stopped. “Hello? Who’s this?”

“Um. Hello.” Schneep reminded himself to breathe. “It’s me, it is—well, you can probably tell by the voice.” The voice that was shaking quite a bit.

“What the f—Schneep?!” The voice on the other end shouted in disbelief. “Why are you calling me?! No, wait, how are you calling me? I thought you weren’t allowed to have a phone there.”

“No, I—there is—something has happened,” Schneep said carefully. “I-I am not at Silver Hills anymore.”

“Well then where the hell are you?!”

“I am...I am somewhere...else,” Schneep said slowly.

“Yeah, where?”

Anti narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Get to the point,” he hissed.

Schneep froze for a moment. He needed to speak freely. “It’s because of—of him,” he said carefully. “You know who I mean, yes?”

“You mean...Anti?” The other end went silent for a minute. “Schneep where are you? Can you tell me, give me a clue or something? I-I’ll call the police, but if you could tell me anything—”

Anti frowned. “Put it on speaker,” he said.

Schneep’s heart sank. Impossible. Anti would immediately know that he hadn’t called the right person. He had to do something drastic. “Er ist es, er hat mich mitgenommen,” he said, speaking quickly. “Ich weiß nicht wo ich bin.” Anti’s eyes widened, and he lunged forward. Schneep cried out, and rolled to the side, just avoiding him. “Ich weiß nicht wo ich bin! Ein Haus an einer Straßenecke—Ich kenne die Straßennamen nicht! Das Schild hat Graffiti, es ist ein Kreis in einem Diamanten in einem Quadrat—”

“You little—!” Anti grabbed Schneep’s wrist and twisted the phone out of his hand.

“Bitte komm—!” Schneep didn’t manage to get the rest of the sentence out before—

Smack!

He fell to the side, half of his face suddenly alight in pain. For a moment, he was too dazed to respond properly. Then Anti grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him upward. He instantly started struggling.

“You worthless little fucker,” Anti hissed, grabbing a handful of Schneep’s hair and pulling his head backwards. “Can’t believe you did that. Fuck. You deserved that. Your friend’s gonna have worse for that stunt you just pulled.”

“N-no!” Schneep gasped. “Leave him alone!”

“No, you know the rules. You know how this works.” Anti glared at him. “You’ve just gotten cocky. So you need a reminder.”

Schneep felt a tear trickle from his eye. He hoped that call was worth it.

—————— 

“Schneep?! Henrik?! Are you there?!” Chase shouted into the phone, but got no response. There’d been a rustling sound, like a struggle, then Schneep had shouted, and then there was—there was another sound, a sound he’d most often heard when his kids would fight each other, and he had to scold them. That sound was a lot more sinister in this context. Especially considering the call had apparently dropped after it. “Fuck!”

“What happened?!” Marvin asked, shaken by the half of the conversation he’d heard. “Was that really—?”

“H-hang on, I’m gonna call his doctor first,” Chase said. He hurried to dial the number for Dr. Laurens, misdialing at first because of his rush and entering it a second time.

The call was picked up surprisingly quickly. “Chase? Is that you?” Laurens’s voice came through loud and clear.

“Yeah, it’s me. Listen doc, is...is Schneep okay?” Chase didn’t know how else to ask.

“Is he—oh, Chase,” Laurens said softly. “I was just about to call you. We...we don’t know where he is.”

“You...don’t know where he is?” Chase repeated, feeling the bottom of his stomach dropping out. He heard Marvin gasp, and saw him squeeze Jack’s hand, who was now sitting up as straight as he could. “What do you mean?”

“He never showed up to dinner. When Oliver went to check on his room, he wasn’t there. We’ve been searching the building and the grounds, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I thought—since you’re his friend, a-and his emergency contact—wait a minute.” Laurens stopped, realizing something. “Why are you asking?”

“Because he just called me,” Chase explained. “From some number I didn’t recognize. He said that—he said that Anti took him.”

“Shit,” Laurens cursed. “Chase, I need you to hang up right now and call the police. We’ll keep searching the nearby area, just in case. I-I’ll call you if we find him.”

“Y-yeah. Okay. And I’ll call you again after I talk to the cops.”

“Great. Go do that.”

“I’m doing it. Talk to you later.” Chase hung up.

“So he just disappeared?!” Marvin whispered harshly. “Just—just like that night.” He glanced over at Jack.

“Wh’s happennin’?” Jack asked, his features drawn.

“You guys heard that call, right? Henrik called me, h-he was speaking...haltingly, I think, with a lot of pauses, I think that’s the word.” Chase squeezed his phone case. “Then he freaked out and started shouting in German—I bet because Anti can’t speak it.”

“What did he say?!” Marvin demanded.

“I don’t know all of it, it’s been a while since I—give me a second.” Chase opened up a translation app on his phone and quickly typed in a few words, trying his best to match the spelling of the things he thought Schneep had said. He had to fill in the gaps. “Okay. He said that Anti took him, and that he didn’t know where it was, but it was a house on a street corner. He couldn’t see the street names, but mentioned some sort of like...graffiti? On the sign? A circle in a diamond in a square.”

Jack’s head shot upward, and he cried out.

“What?! What is it?!” Marvin leaned forward, checking all the wires and monitors.

“Nn—noh that!” Jack clumsily pushed him back. “That sss...ssymmbel. Know it.”

“Wh—you recognize the symbol?!” Chase repeated in disbelief. “Square-diamond-circle?!”

Jack nodded. “H-he...fffakes. Th’ fakes, th’ one...prtendinn tuh be yuh two. I...rmemmber now.”

“Huh?” Marvin asked, utterly confused.

“Right, you don’t know,” Chase realized. “Jack, he—he’s said some stuff about fake versions of us visiting him. Anti, in disguise. I-I know, I ran into him pretending to be you one time, and I heard about an imposter me from Dr. Emerson another time. Apparently Anti talked to him, said some freaky stuff.” He gasped. “You mean—he told you about this symbol?”

“Symmbl. Symbel to...to haf others recogniss him.” Jack pressed his hands to his forehead and leaned forward. “Put outssside...places he...h-has? I don’...don’ rmemrrr.” He fell silent, squeezing his eyes shut. “On a sighhn...steet signnn...ffahk. Fahk!”

“I’m gonna call the police,” Chase said, already dialing 999. “I’m gonna tell them everything, a-and meanwhile, try to remember anything else.”

Jack nodded, eyes still shut. Marvin squeezed his shoulder, an anchor to the physical world. He could hear Chase’s voice relaying what happened over the phone, but the words were indistinct as he tried to concentrate on his memory. Everything was all mixed up and blurred. None of it made sense most of the time. He remembered hearing voices, but he wasn’t sure when it was Chase, when it was this Anti, or when it was just a dream. But he’d definitely heard that description of a symbol before. When...when had he...when...when......?

——————

......

...

“It’s a calling card. Or a warning, if you want to think of it that way...simplified version of my...”

...

The man had no eyes. Or maybe he was just missing one eye. A blank, dark spot in the middle of a white face. He looked like a friend, but that dark spot was wrong. It told him it was a lie.

“Most people don’t know what it means exactly, only that it’s trouble. The area...claimed.”

And the voice was wrong. It...it sounded a bit like his own, actually? Was this...him?

Was that why he couldn’t move? Why he couldn’t look away?

“...outside safe houses, where I store my...and other equipment. They’re also secondary bases. Just in case...never know in this line of work. I don’t want...caught. Living...prison...just be the worst. You have no control.”

The man was smiling. His teeth stretched...his skin was melting. He—he couldn’t understand. What was happening? Who...was this man...? Was he him? Who are you? Who am I? Are we the same? I can’t understand. Something...something is broken up here. My thoughts...they’re scattering. Like throwing paper in a bowl of water, watching it soak it up, then stirring violently. Everything came apart.

“I’m never going to let anyone control me. No. I am in control. Everyone else...my little puppets. I like watching the shows.”

The white ceiling and walls were burning his eyes. It was curving, like a bubble. They were in a bubble. He was floating. He couldn’t feel anything.

“...times I worry about you telling people. But then I—” Laugh. Laugh. Laugh. “I remember you’re a veggie. People rarely wake...after something so severe. So...doesn’t matter. Maybe you can hear me. Maybe you can’t. Doesn’t...”

Green line. Up and down. Up and down. Crossing the man’s face. Cutting him in half.

“Why am I even doing this?”

Green light. Everything is green.

“I don’t even know. It’s a waste of time, a waste of resources, and a risk. Maybe...need it? I’ve never talked so freely. Not even to Jamie. He...a kid, you know. Always will be.”

Light is gone. Everything is black.

“...it doesn’t really matter what I say. I can tell you about the marks outside the houses. Ha. Hell, I can even tell you where they are. Like, for example, on the corner of—”

——————

Jack’s eyes flew open. “Ah!”

“Wh—?!” Marvin jumped a bit. “Jack?”

“Th’ steet! Strreet! Is—is—” Now the problem was just getting his mouth to form the sounds properly. “Ay...airrr...loom.”

Marvin blinked. “Air loom?”

“Hhay. Hhhhair loom.”

“Oh, heirloom? I don’t know that street, uh...” Marvin turned to look at Chase. “Did you catch that?”

Chase nodded in response, still on the phone, then returned to his conversation with the emergency line. “Um—maybe try on one of the corners of Heirloom Drive? My friend thinks that might be it.” A brief pause. “Uh, I don’t know.” And he looked over at Jack, pulling the phone away a bit. “Hey bro, do you...remember the other street? It’s at an intersection, right?”

Jack closed his eyes again. But this time, the memory wouldn’t even come to him. “No.”

“That’s fine.” Chase returned to the phone. “My friend doesn’t know, but on the phone call he said—my other friend—said that there was some sort of graffiti on the sign, that was a uhh square around a diamond around a circle. That probably helps right?” He paused. “No, I don’t think he’d see them. He’s near-sighted, and I don’t think he has his glasses. That probably means that the graffiti description is pretty vague, but it’s an idea.” Another pause. “Yeah, that’s it. Oh, wait, uh...I think Detective Nix was involved in this case? Can you tell him?” And another. “Yeah, his name’s Henrik.” And one last, long pause. “Alright, thank you ma’am. I’ll wait.” And he hung up, letting out a long exhale.

“It—it’s going to be fine, right?” Marvin asked anxiously. “They’ll find him?”

“It might take a while, but I think so,” Chase replied. “God...Hey, uh, Jack? You’re sure about this?”

Jack thought about it, then nodded slowly, head bobbing. That memory was a bit weird, but Dr. Emerson told him it was common to have dream-like memories, with everything that had happened to him. He was confident that the conversation was real. He couldn’t forget the times Anti came to visit, just because of how deeply unnerving his words always were.

“Alright. Well, they’re going to call me to update me on what happens,” Chase said. “Uh...not sure how long this’ll take. Visiting hours might end before they sort everything out.”

“Mm.” Jack shrugged. He picked up the communication board again—he’d just done a lot of talking, and needed a moment—and pointed to the I’m okay box.

“You sure?”

Yes box.

“Well we’re not leaving until they kick us out,” Marvin asserted, folding his arms. “If they call us back, you need to hear it. You just helped out a fuckton.”

Jack smiled, a bit lopsidedly. Thank you box.

Chase laughed, but it quickly faded. He looked down at the phone in his hand, already anticipating the call. “I guess...we just wait now.”

——————

There were footsteps passing by outside the room. At first, Jameson had tensed, waiting for the door to open and Anti to walk inside. But that didn’t happen. They just kept passing back and forth. You hear those, right? JJ asked.

Jackie didn’t respond, so JJ looked back over at him. He was lying on the bottom bed of the bunk and staring up, eyes glazed. Something he’d been doing quite a lot, JJ noticed. When he asked about it, Jackie always said he was daydreaming, which would be fine normally, but JJ was pretty sure that he was doing it too much. Well, he couldn’t blame him. But still, it would be nice if Jackie would look at him when he was signing.

Jameson walked over and, after a moment’s hesitation, shook Jackie’s shoulder. He blinked, made an odd gesture like he was asking someone to wait, then looked at JJ. “What?”

Have you been hearing the footsteps outside? JJ asked.

“Huh? Oh, uh, sorry. No. I wasn’t really paying attention,” Jackie admitted. “What do they sound like?”

Like someone’s running up and down a hallway outside, JJ described.

“Really? Well...I mean, I can’t really think of anyone but Anti who’d be doing that.” Jackie’s face scrunched up in thought. “Maybe he’s...doing something? I dunno. Running, though...it must be important.”

Jameson frowned. That was a good point, why would Anti be running about? I’m going to try to look outside, he said, walking over to the door.

“Look outside?” Jackie sat up, turning so he was on the edge of the bed. “You mean, through the gap?”

JJ nodded. He got down on his hands and knees and pressed his head to the floor, peering through the gap under the door. Nothing much to see. He got to his knees and was about to stand up...when he heard the footsteps again. Wanting to see what happened as they passed by the door, he quickly peered through the gap between the door and the doorframe. The steps were approaching—

Then the door slammed open, directly into Jameson’s face. He cried out as he fell, clasping his hands to his face.

“Oh my god, Jamie?! I’m so sorry!” Anti covered his mouth, staring down at him in shock. “It was an accident, I didn’t expect you to—are you okay?!”

Jameson didn’t answer. His face was in pain, and his nose in particular was throbbing. He pulled one hand away and saw it covered in blood, felt it trickling from his nostrils and soaking into his mustache.

“Shit. Fuck! I-it’ll be fine, I can—i-is it broken?” Anti bent over, grabbing Jameson’s head and trying to inspect the damage. But Jameson pulled away, waving at him to get back. “Hey, I just—okay, fine. This isn’t the time. We can look at it later.” Anti took his phone out of his pocket and checked the clock. “We need to go.”

Go? Did he say go? As in, they were leaving? Jameson stood up, keeping one hand on his face, trying and failing to stop the bleeding from getting everywhere. Why did they have to leave? More importantly, why was Anti trying to move the two of them? Unless...something happened that meant he had to move them. Like...the police coming. At that thought, Jameson started backing away.

“Jamie, this isn’t a joke, we need to leave now.” Anti insisted.

Jameson shook his head. He glanced over his shoulder at Jackie. Judging by the wide-eyed expression on his face, he’d come to the same conclusion as him. It was strange to see the glimmer of hope in his eyes. And that thought made Jameson’s heart hurt.

“Are you going to—?! Fuck, I don’t have time for this.” Anti rubbed his eyes, then adjusted the strap of the bag hanging off his shoulder. He stared at Jameson for a moment. Then followed his line of sight over to Jackie. For a moment, he hesitated, thinking about something. And then he made a decision. “Okay, fine.” Anti pushed past Jameson, reaching into his bag as he did so. He grabbed Jackie, yanking him upwards to a standing position, and pressed a knife to his neck.

Jameson gasped. “A-an!”

“I’m going to kill him,” Anti said calmly. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I can’t handle three of you after all. And he’s the most useless.”

“A...aan.” Jameson shook his head slowly. He didn’t dare to take a step forward. Jackie had looked terrified when Anti grabbed him, but the moment he said he was going to kill him, all emotion seemed to drain out of him. Now he was slumped, eyes blank, not there at all. Please, Jameson simply signed.

Anti looked him in the eyes. “The only way you can convince me not to is if you come with me right now.”

Oh.

So...that was the plan.

Jameson wasn’t sure why he wasn’t more shocked. No...no, actually, he knew why. But somehow, it surprised him to feel this lack of...well, surprise.

But in any case, he couldn’t let Jackie die. Alright, he signed slowly. I’ll go with you.

“Good. Follow me.”

Anti walked out of the room, right through the door, and Jameson followed behind him, quietly. He tried to catch Jackie’s eye, but Jackie wasn’t paying attention to anything at all. He just let Anti pull him along with the blade at his throat.

They went down a hallway and arrived in another, which they then walked down to arrive at a door. Anti pushed it open with his shoulder, and then they were in a small backyard, hardly more than a strip of grass. Jameson glanced at the neighboring houses, but they looked empty. But...maybe someone could see them? Maybe someone would call the police, if they hadn’t already been called.

There was a car parked in the gap between their house and one of the neighbors. It didn’t have anything distinct about it, a simple, gray, four-door car. But the trunk was a bit open. Jameson caught a glimpse of some sort of suitcase—maybe multiple suitcases—before Anti kicked the lid closed. “Stupid boot,” he muttered. “Jameson, get in the passenger side. Leave the door open.”

Well, he didn’t have much of a choice, did he? Jameson walked around to the passenger side and got in, sitting stiffly on the edge of the seat. He wiped his face, clearing up blood from his nosebleed.

“Good.” Anti nodded once. He then shifted his knife to his other hand, still keeping it pointed at Jackie, and used his other to rummage around in his bag until he pulled out a small bottle. He popped the lid open. “Hold out your hand.” When Jameson did, Anti shook a few small pills out of the bottle and into his palm. “Swallow three of those.”

That was the part that got Jameson to finally say something. Or, try to, at least. “A-annn? Yuh...c-c-cannn’...beee sss—”

“Don’t do this, Jamie,” Anti said through gritted teeth. “I know what you’re trying to do. Just eat them, okay?” He put the bottle back in his bag and switched the knife between hands again. He pressed it firmly into Jackie’s neck, causing a drop of blood to trickle down from where the blade met skin.

Jameson nodded, and hurriedly threw the pills in his mouth. Anti watched him closely, making sure they were eventually swallowed. “Good,” he said again. Then he closed the car door. Immediately, Jameson heard the clunk of the lock. He was expecting that...but he wasn’t expecting Anti to walk back towards the back door they’d come from, taking Jackie with him.

“Hhh—!” Jameson pressed his face and hands to the window. “Aaaan! N-nuh!” He banged a fist against the glass. “Nnnuh! Nn—n-n-no!” He screamed. But Anti didn’t even look towards him as he disappeared back into the house with Jackie.

He tried pulling at the door, but of course, found it useless. And looking around the inside showed there wasn’t a way to open the car from the inside. That was probably a safety hazard, but Jameson was willing to bet that Anti had the car modified. He spun around in his seat, looking for anything that would be of help in the back. But there was nothing. Except for...a man. Asleep, sitting in the back seat. Pale skin and brown hair, with a yellow-purple bruise forming on his cheek. Jameson was confused for a moment, until he noticed the plastic medical bracelet around the man’s wrist and remembered. That was Henrik, wasn’t it? Schneep? He hadn’t recognized him. Of course, they’d only met once, and Schneep had spent most of it freaking out, thinking that Jameson was Anti. He looked unharmed, but he was clearly unconscious, and therefore couldn’t help them get out of the car.

Frustrated, Jameson started kicking at the door, leaning back to build up as much force as possible. He tried hitting the window. But it felt as solid as the actual door. This went on for a few moments, until he saw the back door opening again. And Anti came back outside. Alone.

That made him stop, fear shooting through his heart.

Soon, Anti sat down in the driver’s seat. “Alright, finally,” he said under his breath, glancing up at the dark, early-night sky. “We’ve wasted enough time—”

Smack!

Anti was too surprised to even cry out as Jameson’s fist connected with enough force to whip his head to the side. “Y—you just—” He pressed his hand to his cheek and looked at Jameson in disbelief. “Jamie, you hit me.”

Don’t fucking call me that! Jameson threw his hands in Anti’s face, almost hitting him again. Not after all that! You don’t deserve it! You’re the most horrible person I know!

Anti glanced back towards the house. “He’s not dead.”

Well I don’t trust a word you say!

“Just...” Anti sighed, and rubbed his cheek. “Just go to sleep and be quiet, Jameson.”

Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Jameson seethed. You’d like to have a perfect, quiet, naive kid brother that you can protect and therefore feel good about yourself for once. Well he doesn’t exist. Not one of those words describes me. Jameson turned away. Don’t ever call me your brother again. You make me sick.

Anti didn’t say anything in response, and Jameson refused to even look at him. The car started, then pulled out of the driveway and onto the street.

As the house on the corner faded into the distance, Jameson’s anger lessened, overtaken by the fear and all-consuming worry he’d felt before. He could only hope that Anti wasn’t lying about Jackie. And he didn’t like that. He didn’t like relying on this...person for anything. But, unfortunately, he was at his mercy for the time being.

He had to find a way out. Not now, though. He could already feel the sleeping pills starting to take effect. But as Jameson closed his eyes, he swore that he wouldn’t let Anti be in control of anyone ever again.

[kitkatd7]

Christmas Party

Summary: You’re having a great Christmas eve… until you aren’t. You’re being bullied and Loki isn’t having any of it.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Angst! self-consciousness, bullying/belittling, cursing, fluff ending

Requests: 

Requested by @myraiswack: Hello love, congrats again on 500!!! Could I request a prompt thing for Loki with 4. “Leave me alone” angst prompt but then a fluffy end with 9. “Hold me” (so kinda a hurt & comfort thing? Idk you can do whatever😁💕) Thank you so much 😘

Requested by @cap-n-stuff: Hi! Can I get an angst to fluff with Loki?? Thanks! 

Prompts: “You have to kiss me if we’re under the mistletoe.” (Season of Fiction Writing Challenge)

Word Count: 1482

A/N: This is for @star-spangled-beard-burn Season of Fiction Writing Challenge!! Congratulations again, and I hope you enjoy it! Beta read by the beautiful @rhemasky and the ever wonderful @cap-n-stuff thanks lovelies <3

Prompts will be in bold (Poem is not mine and I take no credit for it, I’m borrowing it from google) 

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

You’re at Tony’s Christmas party with your boyfriend, Loki, and everything is perfect. The food is amazing, all of your friends are present, and you’re all watching Tony, who’s drunk, and singing Deck the Halls with the wrong lyrics. And to top it all off- You feel beautiful for the first time in a long time. Not that Loki didn’t tell you every chance he had how gorgeous you were- but having someone tell you and feeling it are two very different things. But tonight- Tonight is different. You look gorgeous; you feel gorgeous. A dark green dress hugs your skin delicately, accenting your curves. The golden sparkles that start at the top gently cascade down the strapless dress, thinning out until they disappear just before the hem of your skirt. Your hair twisted back into soft waves, held by golden pins. The necklace you never take off you rests at the hollow of your throat; An elegant gold star with small white gems. It was a present from Loki, gifted along with a poem: 

I want to invite you for a walk

To a quiet place; in the moor. 

When the breeze sings serenades, 

One of those nights-

The moon is full.

A restless pounding invades my heart

When I think of my confidants-

The stars.

If only they could speak,

What would they say?

If you could hear them speak,

For they know my fondness for you

And that in my thoughts,

There is no other one.

If only the stars could speak

They will tell you that I love you.

They would ask you, 

To love me back.

That was how he told you he loved you. The memory wraps around you in a warm haze as you smile up at Loki. His grip tightens around your waist as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you sigh contentedly. 

“Do you want champagne, love?”

You hum a yes, watching as his dark, deliciously clad form disappears into the crowd.

You roll your eyes upon hearing a high pitched voice call your name. You turn, coming face to face with one of Tony’s countless guests. Lord knows how she got an invite. 

“Aren’t you Loki’s ex-girlfriend?” She asks, not waiting for a reply as her friends shoot you a pitiful look. “That is so sad! I can’t believe it. Everyone thought you guys would work out- But can you really blame him for breaking up with you?” She snarks, tone shifting as she eyes you demeaningly. 

“What? No, we didn’t break-”

“I mean, sure, you’re sort of cute, in your own way. But honestly, you're not good enough for him anyway. It’s probably for the best. You’ve got too many… How can I put this lightly?” She pauses thoughtfully, her hand under her chin in fake contemplation. “...Imperfections.” She finally says maliciously as her friends nod in faux sympathy. 

“Also, you’re obviously way too clingy- Guys don’t like that.” She hums, shaking her head disapprovingly. “Loki needs a more confident girl. Prettier. Thinner. Someone like- well, someone like me, I suppose,” she says casually, eyes glinting assertively. 

All the air is pushed from your lungs as you choke back sobs.

Loki’s eyebrows furrow as he watches you whirl away from a group of women and push your way aimlessly through the crowd. He grabs your arm lightly as you turn to face him, looking up at him with tears in your eyes.

“My love, what’s wrong?” He asks, cupping your face gently when you shake your head and try to step away. He whispers your name, his eyes clouding in confusion. “Tell me what they said,” he prompts you gently. Blinking back fresh tears, you pull away. “Leave me alone,” you whisper hoarsely before rushing out, vanishing in the mass of bodies.

He looks around for the source of your pain, his eyes scanning the crowd so intently he doesn’t notice Thor come up beside him. “Are you alright, brother? You look tense.”

“I’m fine. It’s Y/N. Someone upset her greatly, and I think it only fair I return the favor,” Loki growled, striding across the floor with purpose, his eyes glinting. 

Stalking up to her, Loki glares daggers, his words dripping with venom. “I don’t know what exactly you said to Y/N, but I know the general context- If you think for even a moment that you are worth more than she is, you are desperately wrong. She’s the most beautiful, intelligent, gentle person I’ve ever met, and to call her anything less than that is simply your resentment overtaking the little sense you have. She is worth more than you could possibly imagine, and she deserves for you to treat her with more respect than anyone here. The only reason you aren’t begging for your life right now is because of her and the restraint she taught me. Consider yourselves lucky we didn’t meet a year ago. Now. Get. Out,” Loki snarls, eyes flashing with barely contained rage. 

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

Some minutes later, Loki opens the door to your room softly, slipping inside to find you perched on the edge of the bed, smudged mascara and drying tears mixing on your cheeks. Your dress in a forgotten heap on the floor, replaced with sweatpants and a hoodie that you never gave back to him. He crouches in between your thighs, his hands resting gently on your legs. All his quick wit evades him, and he finds himself unable to conjure the perfect words to ease your pain. “I’m sorry.” 

You burst into fresh tears, burying your head into his shoulder, and all he can do is hold you as you try to find the words. “She’s right, you know?” You murmur, sitting up as a mirthless laugh passing through your lips as Loki looks at you in confusion.

“What was she right about, darling?”

“That I’m not like her. I can never be like her- I’ll never look like her, or sound like her, or act like her. I can never be that perfect. She was right about everything. She was right that I’ll never be good enough for anyone. But I’ll especially never be good enough for you-”

Your sentence cuts off as Loki’s lips capture yours, his hands cup your face as he kisses you with such a confident passion that it leaves you breathless when he pulls away. Resting his forehead against yours, he stares deeply into your eyes. “Don’t ever say that you aren’t good enough for me again. It is I who isn’t worthy of you, my love.  But she’s right-” He starts as you look at him in shock. “-That you aren’t like her... And that’s why I love you.” He huffs lightly to himself, brushing the back of his hand against the soft skin of your cheek while gazing at you like you hung the moon in the sky. “I don’t want you to be like her. I don’t want you to try to look or sound or act any differently than you are- Because as soon as you try to be someone else, you lose yourself. Darling, perfect is not a real thing. Perfect is a mask, an image of what someone else wants you to be. To be perfect is to be fake and to let go of every ounce of life in your being. I love you exactly the way you are, and always will.”

You stare at Loki in complete surprise, your lips parted slightly, at a loss for words.

He kisses you again with a dominating sweetness that you’ve never felt before. His lips are fierce and compelling against your own as you lean into him, all of the pain you felt slipping away into memory at the caring touch and soothing presence of your lover. 

“Hold me.” It comes out a breathless plea against his lips as he gathers you in his arms and moves you both to the headboard. 

You snuggle into him, your head on his chest and his arms securely around you. Anchoring you. “This isn’t exactly how I imagined us spending Christmas.” You hum tiredly against his skin in agreement. 

Before you can slip into sleep, you hear him murmur your name. Your eyebrows furrow at the soft expression on his face and the light dancing in his eyes. “You have to kiss me if we’re under the mistletoe,” he whispers. 

“Loki, there isn’t any-” You huff before following his gaze to the ceiling where there is, in fact, mistletoe. “That’s cheating.” you chuckle, leaning closer instinctively, eyes flicking between his and his lips. 

“Mm, perhaps. But if I get a kiss from you then it’s worth it.” He charms, lips curving into a warm smile. 

You sigh, into the kiss in pleasure and exhaustion before nestling back into his side. Maybe this isn’t a terrible way to spend Christmas.

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

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[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Chapter 12 rewatch thoughts

- I would like to thank them for keeping in din’s harried yet triumphant ‘hAH!!’ when he gets the explosives to stick to gideon’s ship in the ‘hey remember when this happened last season’ section, that was a nice gesture from the showrunners to me personally, I assume

- this episode actually helped me find more enjoyment in the last one, because it’s such a nice reassurance that even though they’re pulling in more stuff from other star wars media this show won’t suddenly stop being its own thing and mando won’t suddenly stop being himself and it’s very comforting to me somehow haha

- the small hesitation before din calls out “do you... do you have the wire?” lol lol lol he’s completely aware of the bizarreness of what he’s doing here but hey being alive is already so damn weird etc. 

the softness of his voice the whole way through and the fact that he never, never blames the baby for not being able to do what shouldn’t really be asked of him in the first place, tho... ;____;  

- the tiny exasperated head tilt din does when he realizes the hatch isn’t going to extend all the way fdslkfhasdlashfs  

- din is looking down at the baby the entire time while greef talks to the mechanics ❤️❤��❤️

(the baby seems pretty drawn to/excited to see greef again and mando seems to notice which is extremely cute. he’s becoming really good at tuning in with the kid) 

he also greets cara baby first in much the same way as he does peli, like he knows what the main attraction here is lol, they do a very sweet bro nod at each other. god I wish gina carano wasn’t so terrible imagine if we could just have this BrOTP without hesitations :( 

I think greef is actually a bit worried to begin with after seeing the ship, he sort of takes din in intently before he huffs a little laugh and grabs his arm. it must be a bit stressful to be his friend and not be able to see his expression right away when you worry something might be seriously wrong haha

- people are finally treating the baby like you would a real baby and it’s such a blessing, everyone talking and cooing at him and baby babbling back

(I wonder if greef has children of his own? he does have an undeniable air of experienced grandpa about him in this episode, it’s adorable)  

- din does so much talking -- unprompted, even! -- these days, it truly is an embarrassment of riches 

- capital E Emotional about this shot with IG-11 right behind din and cara inviting him into the school in front of him. some past carried with us into the future shit going on here  

IG-11′s legacy’s still got our back y’all :’) I swear to god if gideon blows up nevarro at some point I’m going to lose it 

the ‘oh yeah?/that so?’ way din leans his head back after she says “wait until you see inside” is also amazing

- baby reaching out his hand like ‘can have?’ is so polite ;______; he takes after his father (including in the ‘fool me twice, I’ll fuck you up’ department haha. listen you get one chance to be cool about it and then no more mr nice mando/baby)

-

go ahead, kid, make a fuss about it. who are you going to tell, huh? who’s going to believe you? you gonna tell them you got bested by a baby? a magic baby? no? that’s right. I took your dignity as easily as I took your macarons, there’s nothing you can do to change it, and now you gotta live with that. sweet dreams.

(this is a joke. the baby is not evil. I hate that I even have to specify this but I’ve seen some stupid shit in the tags in my time you guys haha) 

- I can’t work out what anything on greef’s desk is supposed to be, but if that’s a computer it’s got to be older than even the razor crest lol

- friends: din yes?

mando: din no, only repairs

friends: din yes please?

mando: ... [sigh] din yes 

he truly has next to no defense against people he actually likes asking him for something huh lol. well a self care co-op mission clearly did him a world of good in this one at least it’s all fine

- “I’m starting to dehydrate, Boss” is an excellent line and delivered perfectly, I cackle every time (”You park your gills right there until I say otherwise” is a good runner up too) 

- it’s so nice to see the small moments of communication between them in this one after mando was so out of sync with the team in the last one (and tbf those guys didn’t even try to give him any pointers at all, they really left him to flounder through the whole thing if you watch it carefully haha)

- the mythrol’s jacket still looks so comfy, I want one

- aaaaah the way din says “I don’t like this” is just so... hnnngh it’s perfect, there’s a vulnerability and openness to it for a moment. greef glances over at him like he hasn’t heard him sound like this before too, which just sells it even more

u ok bro?

you know shit’s fucked up when din djarin expresses an emotion without even being forced to by circumstance (I think what I mean is that it’s actually really rare for him to state how he feels about something just to do it, usually his communication is more practically oriented, more along ��I think this is the best cause of action because of a and b’ lines, or like when he tells omera he’s grateful it’s... more to inform her of it and make sure she knows than to express himself? but he’s starting to do it more with people he trusts now and it gets me in the heart? man I’m finding this hard to articulate let’s move on lol)

- I really, really wonder about pershing’s position in all of this. his plea for the child’s life did sound genuine -- he did try to guard him with his own noodly scientist body when he thought din was out to hurt him, remember -- but is that only because he knows he’s in deep shit himself without the blood the baby can give? is he maybe not quite cool with whatever gideon has him doing? (he does sound quite strained when he talks about the ‘body’ rejecting the transfusion and the ‘volunteer’ potentially suffering the same fate... hm.)

idk why I want there to be something redeemable in him so bad, maybe it’s just my weird yet enduring attachment to ladon radim in stargate atlantis messing with me they’re kind of similar in some ways (yeah don’t ask me I don’t know either sometimes the heart wants what it wants in ways reason can’t explain)

- tfw ur literally launching yourself across a pool of boiling lava because you’re Dad and your baby’s in danger T__________T he just does not stop running towards that kid for even a single second help

- there’s something so innocently pure and... old fashioned? about the scene with mythrol and greef screaming the entire time they drive off the cliff, it feels like something out of a movie from like three decades ago. that whole segment feels a bit like that, it’s just there to be fun and that’s okay sometimes

- every dog fight in every movie should have a baby nonchalantly snacking on a cookie in them, it elevates the experience immeasurably (he squishes his nose a little bit with the macaron when he misses his mouth at one point, which is more than anyone should be expected to bear honestly)

I love that even all fixed up again the razor crest groans and creaks like an old tired thing when din makes it flip to dive, he 100% did take out a bunch of ferraris in his stalwart morris minor of a spaceship and I treasure him     

- there’s so much life and emotion in din’s voice here I can’t!!!! I simply can’t!!!! imagine if we get to hear him openly laugh one day, would I even survive it??!!!!

 also the kid makes such pitch perfect ‘having my lil nose wiped and whining about it’ baby noises when din uses his cape to clean him up (din does turn the autopilot on before he turns around to deal with it, for those who, like me, worry about these things) 

- between carson showing up and the stuff the droid talks about in the lesson they’re doing quite a bit of outer rim vs. core worlds theme building in this one, I wonder if this is going to ramp up more or what

- god but gideon’s theme SLAPS tho 

he’s probably going to try to fuck up everything I love but you can’t fault him on the tunes he’s going to do it to 

[wrenhyperfixates]

Of All the Places

Chapter 6

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: Washing up in a small town in Oklahoma was definitely not part of Loki’s plan when he came to conquer Midgard. There is one good thing about it, though: No one recognizes him as the one who just wreaked havoc in New York. So, Loki plans to recover from the battle and move on with his life. The only problem? He’s not sure he can leave you. Chapter Summary: The TVs at the farm are finally working again, and there is troubling news. Just not the kind Loki was expecting. Unfortunately, it puts the youngest member of the family in danger. Chapter Warnings: like one curse word A/N: Updates every Friday. Enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiantfavs​​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​

✥ Start at Beginning ✥ | ← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“Great job, son,” Papa said, clapping Loki on the back. “Much better than the last time.”

“Yes, I do believe these have come out quite well,” he boasted, stacking the pancakes on a plate.

“Earl,” Mama angrily whispered, pulling Papa aside. “You let him cook again? I hope you were watching to make sure he didn’t put anything in there.”

“Honey, you worry too much,” Papa soothed her. “He didn’t put nothing in but the ingredients.”

“Besides love and care, that is,” Loki chimed in, flashing an overly charming smile over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she sassed right back. “I just came to tell you the cable’s back.”

“Finally!” Papa exclaimed. “I know we’re out of the way, but two weeks is ridiculous.”

“Two and a half actually,” you corrected, walking in. “And yes, completely. That smells really good, Loki.”

“Thank you,” he said, blushing a little.

The two of you stared at each for a minute, smiling widely, the plate of freshly made pancakes in between you. It wasn’t until Mama rolled her eyes and groaned that either of you came to your senses. You cleared your throat and averted your eyes, grabbing the plate and setting it on the table. Loki didn’t look away until you turned around and saw his gaze was still upon you. He sighed to himself, realizing he was totally whipped. Trying to clear his mind, he shook his head and was struck with a terrifying thought.

“You have not happened to watch anything yet, have you?” Loki ventured, trying to sound casual. “Like, say, the news.”

“No, not yet. Why?” Mama asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

“Oh, no reason, really. Just curious.”

“I see. Well, how ‘bout I go turn it on now?”

She rushed out of the room, Loki hot on her heels, trying to cut her off. His long legs gave him the advantage, but she was able to seize the remote before he could block her. He stopped moving and tried to look as nonchalant as possible, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

“What was it you said now? Was it the news?” Mama wondered aloud in a taunting manner. “Ah, yes. That’s it for sure. Why? Worried they’ll be spilling all your dirty little secrets?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” he drawled as she flipped to the channel. “It seems you have forgotten, but I have lost my memory. I have nothing to hide.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Everything alright out here?” you questioned, appearing in the doorway.

“Yes, it’s all fine,” Loki quickly shooed you away, hoping that at least if his past was about to be exposed, he wouldn’t have to see your face when you found out.

“Splendid. In fact-” Mama cut off, dropping the remote. “Earl! Get in here!”

Loki’s heart was going a mile a minute. He could only assume that she’d seen the truth about him, and he was already calling out to the Tesseract, knowing it would allow him to get farther away than just his magic would. Putting as much distance between himself and everyone on the farm would be for the best for all involved. His heart, he was sure, would take severe damages, but what was one more fracture in something already so shattered and broken?

“Mama?” you asked in a panic. “What is it?”

“Tornado warning. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes at most. It’s usually one of the calmer months, so it may be nothing. No such thing as too cautious, though.”

“You’re right,” Papa said, rushing in. He took a deep breath before pointing at you and giving directions. “We’ll go get Ana, John, and Matt. You grab the emergency bags, honey.”

“Wait,” Loki said, grabbing your wrist, feeling a little guilty that he was actually relieved. “What can I do to help?”

“Just help Mama carry some blankets and lanterns and stuff. I’ll see you in a few minutes,” you finished with a nervous smile, trying to sound brave.

He nodded at you before letting you go. For once, he exchanged no scathing looks or remarks with Mama. Instead, he stood with a stoic expression as she loaded up his arms with supplies. She grabbed the last bag with shaking hands, and led the way to the storm cellar. As the seconds ticked by, Mama started praying to every god that there may be in the universe that you would all make it to the cellar in time. Loki paced as he realized there was a god hearing her pleas right at this very minute, and he’d do everything in his power to answer them.

“We’re here,” you announced, walking in with John.

About a minute later, Papa appeared with Ana, whose face immediately fell when she noticed the missing member of the family. “Where’s Matt?” she asked.

Though she appeared calm, Loki heard the panic creeping into her voice. He felt his own chest tighten at the thought of his little friend out there and in danger.

“Wasn’t he with you?” John said.

“He was, but he wanted to go to you. It was such a short walk, I thought he would have reached you already. Oh god!” she suddenly cried out, rushing to the door only to be held back by Papa. “My baby! My baby’s out there! Let me go! I have to get to him. I have to. I have to.”

She continued screaming those words over and over, a hysterical mess, losing what precious little time they had. It was complete chaos, something even Loki didn’t enjoy in the given context.

“You stay,” John ordered. “I’ll go.”

“If you go out there, you’ll die,” Papa tried to reason, though his voice was shaking with emotion. “You know the rules. We can’t risk going out and losing more lives.”

“He is my son, Earl. What do you suggest I do, huh? Leave him to die?”

Papa passed the sobbing, thrashing mess that was Ana over to you as he switched to keeping John at bay. Mama had fallen to her knees, once again saying rushed prayers for her family. Taking the room in, Loki made up his mind.

“I’ll go,” he declared, sprinting out the cellar door.

“Son, are you crazy?” Papa called after him, hands too full to stop him.

“Quite possibly, yes” he shouted back, still running.

“Loki!” you screamed. “Loki, come back! It’s too dangerous.”

He saw you try to go after him, but Mama had come out of her trancelike prayers and panic a bit and was now gripping both you and your sister tightly to her chest. It was, he thought, the most motherly thing he’d ever seen the woman do. Now that he was outside, Loki understood why Papa was so adamant no one else go out. The twister was visible in the distance and rapidly approaching.

“Matt,” Loki called over the whipping wind, cupping his hands around his mouth in the hopes it would help the boy hear him. “Little one, where are you?”

He raced through the fields, trying to find the small child. He worried momentarily that the wind had already swept the small boy away. Worst case scenario, Loki would have to use his magic. Stopping the tornado altogether might be a bit too much for him to handle. He’d never really been taught elemental magic all too much. A shield was perhaps more feasible, but he’d have to keep it up for so long over such a wide expanse that he he wasn’t sure he could actually hold it. Perhaps if he used a sonar spell, he’d be able to find Matt in the fields, though that wasn’t really his specialty, either. As he called out again, he was growing desperate, and kept running until he heard a voice.

“Matt, you must be louder. Where are you?”

“Loki! Loki! It’s a tornado!”

“I know,” he said, moving toward the source of the call. “I know, but do not worry. We will be fine.”

He finally reached where Matt was, and picked him up, immediately turning back in the direction he’d just come from. Even with his godly speed and tireless ability, he knew he’d never make it back in time. He gently pressed Matt’s head into his shoulder so that the boy’s eyes were obscured. Then he used his magic to teleport a few feet away from the cellar door. He ripped them open and brought the child in.

Every eye in the room looked at him in disbelief, most of them also teary and red. They all knew how far out Matt was and had been prepared to lose two souls that day. Then, like someone hit the play button, you all started moving at once. Ana was sobbing again as she took Matt in her arms, and John was holding back tears as he hugged his wife and child. He mouthed thank you to Loki, feeling beyond grateful to him, but still too frenzied to do much else. Mama was saying prayers again, though this time ones of gratitude and praise. Papa shook Loki’s hand before pulling him into a hug. Though he hadn’t had the best first impression of the man, Loki had grown to like him, and accepted the congratulatory and thankful embrace with a smile. You were the last to approach him, and his heart beat faster than it had the entire time he was running.

“You saved him,” you whispered, pushing a lock of windswept hair out of his face as a single tear fell down your cheek. “Loki. You saved him.”

“Darling, it was nothing. You need not mention it.”

“You know what, fuck ‘possibly crazy.’ You definitely are. Don’t brush this off,” you pressed. “This is a big deal. This family couldn’t afford to lose anyone else.”

He could tell from the pain in your eyes that you were thinking of your brother. He hadn’t meant to do anything viewed as so heroic, something that would earn him so much praise, but besides caring about you, he cared about Matt, too. Heck, he cared about the whole family.

“In that case,” he conceded, “you are most welcome.”

He cupped your tear-stained cheeks in his large hands and pressed his forehead to yours. For a second, it was as if all the other commotion in the room faded away, and it was just the two of you, hearts beating in synch. That moment ended, however, when Papa approached you and laid a hand on Loki’s shoulder.

“Why don’t ya get some rest, son,” he suggested. “You ran mighty far, and there’s nothing to do but wait now, anyway.”

“Thank you,” he said, pulling away from you. “I think I will do just that.”

In reality, he wasn’t even really winded at all, but he had to keep up the appearance of a mortal man. So, he retreated to a corner and settled himself down in some blankets and pillows. His frost giant genes always had made him run cold, and he appreciated the warmth. Even more so, when you came over to sit with him, and he extended some of the fleecy material for you to sit under, too. Though, Loki made sure not to sit too close, lest his brain conjure up any silly fantasies about being with you as anything more than a friend.

“It occurred to me,” you started after a few minutes, “that you actually saved all of us.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Well, we never would have turned on the news in time if it hadn’t been for you,” you explained. “You keep saying that you’re the lucky one that we took you in, but you know what? I think we’re the really lucky ones to have you here. At least, it’s lucky for me. I know it hasn’t been that long, Loki, but I honestly don’t think my life would have been the same, been complete, if I hadn’t met you. Though, saying that out loud, I hear how crazy I sound.”

“Nonsense. Have you already forgotten that I am the crazy one?”

You laughed and squeezed his hand, which you’d grabbed at some point during your speech. He felt that all too familiar blush color his cheeks again. After a moment of consideration, he closed the distance between you so that your legs were pressed against each other. His body was, however, rather stiff since he was not entirely sure of himself. You went a little rigid, too, at the unexpected contact, but relaxed a bit after a minute or two.  

“I know we still know next to nothing about who you used to be,” you said, “but whoever that was, you must have been a hero.”

He offered you a false smile before quickly turning away. Let’s hope, he thought, that they never have to find out just how wrong they truly are.