#in my defense your he’s a sad little boy your honor

[nikholascrow]

Destined - Word count: 211 - Evan and Regulus friendship angst

Regulus made it halfway up to the astronomy tower before he broke down. It was sorta poetic honestly, spiraling on a spiral staircase. Sobs racked his body, his lungs hurt. It was Sirius’ birthday and he couldn’t even work up the courage to walk across the great hall and give him a gift, his own brother. Instead he’d spent the entire day watching Remus Lupin smile at him, Peter Pettigrew laugh too loudly at his jokes, and James Potter pat him on the back, his replacement Sirius’ new brother.

He stayed there on the staircase for what felt like hours until Evan found him, puffy eyed and still sniffling. He hated looking weak but Evan had seen him worse. Evan was always there. He'd been there when Sirius turned eleven and left for Hogwarts, he’d been there when Sirius ran away, and when Regulus found out Sirius had been adopted by the Potters. And here he was again. Sitting next to Regulus, rubbing his back slowly, not saying a word, not judging him. Because that’s who he was who he’d always been. Sirius may have been destined to live out in the sun, but Evan and Regulus were made for the depths below, they were drowning but they were drowning together.

[fandomlit]

academic affair, prologue (remus lupin x reader)

series summary being a professor at hogwarts always brought you an interesting day, but your past starts to reappear in odd ways: in the son of one of your former best friends, a dog you can't stop seeing, and an old crush getting the cursed job the school. it all looks to mean one thing--it's time to stop running from the things you tried hard not to think about.

warning none

a/n if you all are interested in seeing this continue as a series please please let me know!! im loving this concept :)

gif cred belongs to @rxmuz

harry, hermione, and ron were gathered in the empty classroom you were to begin a lesson in after your snack break--a habit they had grown into shortly after meeting you their first year. your feet were propped up on your desk as you ate your salad, watching harry pace and complain about his third-year classes already, despite only being a few days into the term.

"i think they're all riveting so far," hermione spoke bossily, shaking her head at the complaining boys.

"how would you know? you weren't even in potions today!" ron accused. you winked at hermione as her face flushed slightly. you knew her little time turner secret--it was a fate few students endured, but you had been one of the professors to recommend her for the honor when dumbledore inquired.

"i was there! we learned about the benefits of frog liver in healing potions!"

ron and harry looked to each other. "I actually don't know if that's true or not."

you let out a laugh before speaking, "it's just the second week, harry. it'll get better! patience is key."

harry huffed as he flopped into one of the chairs in the front row. "why can't i just take your class already?"

you shrugged. "i'll let you in." his head piped up. "if you can read my leaves from my old cup of tea for me." he sunk back down into the chair as you tutted, "have to know divination to take theory, harry. sad, but true."

he sulked for another moment before admitting, "i do like the new defense against the dark arts professor. lupin seems good."

the other two agreed and began to chat about it as you froze mid-chew.

when you heard remus lupin was taking the dark arts position, a rush of old, buried emotions came flooding back to you. your stupid schoolgirl crush seemed to take up space in your heart once again before you had even seen him again, and you cursed yourself for letting it happen. but remus was one of your best friends in your hogwarts days, and you had always wondered what could have been if you had ever had the guts to pursue something with him..

" .. professor? y/n!"

you snapped back into the moment, swallowing your bite as you gave your attention back to the trio. "sorry. got lost in thought. what's up?"

"did you know lupin when you went to hogwarts?"

your heart jumped unwillingly. "oh--yeah, of course. i don't want to air out his business for him if he hasn't said.. but he was very close to your parents, as well, harry." harry blinked in surprise. "but again, not my place to say without knowing if he wants all that to be said." the trio nodded.

"has he always had those scars?" ron asked, waving to his face. 

you smiled a little. "yes. not those, specifically, but he always had a knack for getting new wounds back in our hogwarts days. never without a scratch."

"sounds like-"

"professor l/n?" all four of you looked to the open door of the classroom to see professor lupin himself standing with one hand on the frame, as if he had been summoned when you began to talk about him. your heart skipped while he swept his gaze to the students, lifting a hand in greeting, "hello harry, miss granger, mister weasley." they greeted him in return before he looked back to you as you swung your feet to the ground a little clumsily. you prayed your face wasn't as hot as it felt. "have you all seen a toad hopping about? had a student say he lost sight of him after charms this morning."

"oh, neville?" you laughed softly and the other three chuckled. lupin nodded. "no, we haven't seen trevor. we'll be sure to inform the owner if he's spotted, however."

lupin gave you a nod. "thanks." he paused for a moment in the doorway, looking like he was going to say something more, before patting the doorframe and moving away. after a moment you cleared your throat, swinging your feet back onto your desk and shuffling your fork through your salad.

"so, what were we saying before all that? something about divination?"

"you totally fancy professor lupin!" hermione scoffed. it was the first time you had seen her gaze properly off of her homework all afternoon. and she looked delighted about it, too.

now you knew your face was bright red. "you're loony, hermione. i'm thirty-five years old--i don't 'fancy' people."

"oh, what do you call it then?" harry grinned. "a crush? taking a liking too? or do we skip straight to pining at your age?" he dodged when your shoe came flying at him, but he was laughing the whole way. ron was chortling just as loudly.

"you three have lost it!" you declared, standing unevenly from your desk. "remus and i were good friends back in the day--nothing more, nothing less."

"remus, is it?" harry gawked, making the other two laugh and tease again while you stripped off your other shoe. the warning bell rang just then.

"you've been saved, you have!" you called as they scrambled to get their things together. "teasing a professor like a student--rotten children!"

"and yet, you keep inviting us around!"

[sirignatius]

My thoughts on Persona 3 Reload

I recently finished Persona 3 Reload and it has definitely been a journey. I wanted to sort out some of my personal experiences with the game and share a few details that stuck with me. Spoiler warning if you keep reading! I included some thoughts on certain parts of the game, including some clips of the ending cutscene, so keep that in mind if you haven’t finished it yet!

Persona is such a dear series to me. After finishing P4 and P5, P3 was the last one I needed to play to complete the modern Persona lineup. So, when Persona 3 Reload released on February 1st, I was really excited to play it, but I had to hold off since I was right in the middle of finishing my thesis.

March was just absolute chaos for me: I went through some personal hardships and, finally, turned in my master’s thesis. Easily one of the most stressful periods of my life. Thankfully, I had some incredible friends by my side, supporting me through every step, then and now. I honestly couldn’t have made it through without them.

In the meantime, I figured it’d be better to hold off on P3R for a bit, partly because of its heavy atmosphere and the darker themes, but also because I honestly wasn’t in the best mindset to enjoy it.

For the record, I’m just obsessed with the Persona OSTs, but I wanted to stay away from the new P3 soundtrack so I could experience it in-game. But of course, ONE song managed to sneak past my defenses and land in my playlist. On my way to work, Color Your Night came on for the first time, and honestly, my jaw just dropped.

To this day, I still think it’s a beautiful song! I listen to it almost daily, along with a bunch of other tracks from the game. I wasn’t expecting something so intimate yet so upbeat, and it totally blew me away. Thinking back, I honestly think it gave me that extra push to finish my thesis so I could finally start the game.

This is not meant to be a full game review, but as I played, I felt like P3R wanted to clearly distinguish itself from the original P3. Where the OG game had this edgy, darker vibe, P3R felt more like a celebration of life in comparison. I haven’t played the original, but I’ve listened a lot to its OST, and you can tell they tried to step away from that feeling while honoring Shoji Meguro’s masterpieces.

The interface design is just chef’s kiss. I'm obsessed with the pause menu. It feels like every time I hit pause, time just stops —a little break from all the stressful thoughts, like looking at the world through a calm water barrier. Can we take a moment to appreciate how gorgeous that menu is??

I love how the designers went all in for the water aesthetic: it’s in the menus, the color schemes, the little effects on the music tracks ( like that bubble sound at the start of Full Moon Full Life, 0:28 if you are wondering :] ). They really nailed it.

Then, there’s the endgame. It hits hard with the “take responsibility for your actions” thing, especially after December 31. Choosing to fight to the end completely changes the atmosphere—the color palette gets less saturated and the music takes a more nostalgic tone (Living with Determination, Memories of School, Memories of the City; I find that last one quite disturbing). It’s like the game is telling you that everything comes to an end. It wouldn’t be as impactful if it didn’t. I feel like these songs are the MC’s memories of all the places he’s been in the past year, knowing things will never be the same.

It’s especially heartbreaking on that last day when the MC talks to all their confidants, and they start sharing all the things they’re planning to do soon. Shoutout to Koromaru-san, the goodest boy of them all ;-;

And then, that final scene with Aigis absolutely destroyed me. I wasn’t ready. I like to think she’s using that moment to show us how she’s found her own purpose, and even though she feels sorrow for the MC, she’s learned how to keep going. It hit me so hard. The moment itself is sad, but the atmosphere feels so calm and gentle, like floating on a cloud. And then, after the cutscene, it’s over, and I’m left in tears—not just because it ended, but because of everything we, as the MC, left behind along the way.

And as the game closes, we get Memories of You. After years of listening to it out of context, I finally realized it was the ending theme all along! If you haven’t heard the English lyrics, please do—they’re beautiful, like a love letter from Aigis, saying she’ll be there to protect and remember you forever.

This ended up being a bit of a brain dump, so I hope it makes sense. Please feel free to share any thoughts you may have about the game if you feel like it! And thank you if you read all the way to the end! Truly, thank you so much.

Final shoutout to my dear friends for all the support they gave me through everything. I hope I can also protect them forever as well.

[terriblesportsimagines]

GOM’s reaction to their female s/o giving them flowers? Because boys deserve to get some flowers too!! <3

I tried to keep these as in character (my interpretation of course) as possible, while also honoring the spirit of the ask. Hopefully it worked!

Akashi Seijuro

He’s confused at first, but only for the span of about three seconds.  Looking at your hopeful face, with your pretty blush, tells him everything he needs to know.

He gives you the softest smile.  It’s the kind of smile literally no one gets to see.  He’s very polite, but he kisses your forehead and runs his fingertips down your jaw.

Depending on how many you give him, he’ll keep one on him and put the rest in some kind of vase.  The majority go on his desk in the student council room.

The one he keeps, he carefully trims so that it fits through a button hole on his school jacket.  Wears it without shame and then presses it when he gets back to his dorm.

God help anyone who so much as gives it a look.

Aomine Daiki

He stares at the flowers like they are going to bite him.  At first, he doesn’t even realize you’re trying to give them to him, and when he gets it, he starts to turn red around the edges.

What the fuck, ____-chan?

A lot of bluster, and a fair amount of grumbling lectures about how guys don’t want flowers, etc.  However, if you tell him you’ll take them back in that case, he gets defensive and annoyed.  Absolutely snatches them from you the moment you start to pull away.

Those are mine.

Outwardly he’s grumpy and embarrassed about it, but inside his stomach is doing flips.  He’s torn between his ‘masculinity’ and the fact that you’d given him something, especially something that reminds him of you.

Won’t wear them or anything, but secretly asks Satsuki to teach him how to preserve them.  Also clumsily jams one in your hair, if you are wearing it up.  If you aren’t, then don’t rule out it going in your cleavage instead lol

Kise Ryouta

He squeals.  Like literally squeals like a little girl.  He flushes, but he’s too busy grinning and smelling the flowers to notice or care.

He is effusive with his praise.  Really, somehow makes it about you and how you are the best, most beautiful, amazing girlfriend in the entire world.

He’s the only one of them that appreciates them for what they are.  He likes flowers and thinks they suit him.  He’ll probably spend a break with you in his lap, weaving the flowers into crowns for both of you.

Doesn’t want to take it off and gets scolded by teachers until he does.  Knows better than to try to wear it during practice.  But he demands a date after practice and will be elated you match as you end up at a dessert café or something.

Anyone tries to laugh at either of you?  Well, you learn then that he’s not always the cheerful, bubbly young man you love.

Murasakibara Atsushi

Has absolutely no idea what to do with flowers.  Thus, he has no idea how to respond.

Has a tendency to speak and react without actually thinking, so the chances of hurt feelings are pretty good.  He holds them like they are going to bite him and frowns.  Why?

He does think he would have rather had something yummy.

He’s not that slow, especially when it comes to you, so he sees your disappointment right away.

A bit pouty, but he makes up for his poor reaction.  Being the handsy sort, he probably picks you up so he can kiss you without bending so far.  It’s one armed too, since he’s still holding the flowers in his other hand.

Mutters a thank you between kisses and nuzzles, and then, of course, demands Buy me something yummy?

It seems like he doesn’t care about the flowers, but he has them in his dorm on display and gets sad when they start to wilt.  Himuro helps him preserve a couple of them.

Midorima Shintarou

Dies.  That’s it, he just falls over dead in front of you.

Jk, but he is dying inside.  Blushes brightly, but that’s the only indication of emotions on him.  A lot of fiddling with his glasses ensues.

Has no idea why you would get him flowers, maybe if they were his lucky item, but as it happened, they were not.  Will demand an explanation.

Takes them grudgingly, because he’s a tsuntsun and god forbid he actually say what her feels.  You can see how flattered and happy his, however, by the way he fusses with them and treats them very carefully.  He even thanks you shyly.  There’s embarrassment, but he’s very soft in that moment and will actually reach out to hold your hand.

As embarrassing as it is to receive flowers, he’s secretly happy, behind the bluster.  He feels special, after all, how many boyfriends could say their girlfriends gave them flowers?

Kuroko Tetsuya

Is a bit confused for a moment, but he smiles at you right away and thanks you in his quiet way.

He used to help his mom with her garden, so he knows how to take care of them.  Bonus points if you got him living flowers, they would sit in a place of pride on his desk.

The gift brings you closer.  He doesn’t expect things, even when he buys you little things because they make him think of you, so when you do give him something it tickles him pink and he treasures whatever it is.

If any of his friends try to tease him, he gives them his deadpanned stare and asks in a completely straight voice What did your girlfriend get you?

Knowing full well that none of them have girlfriends.  He’s savage when he wants to be.

He knows how to save flowers, and so he does.  He eventually puts one in a frame so it’s like having them on his desk forever.

[the-white-soul]

Frisk is pretty smart over here too, huh? And despite all those death threats and stubbornness they stay determined.

I'm not talking about the Frisk in this universe though. I'm talking about the Frisk in my world! Sure, this version reminds me of them because they are practically the same person, but I'm not going to bother every Frisk in the multiverse.

I just want mine to be mine. In my universe we're still underground, thankfully, and the major problem they faced is me. I was relentless. I used to be so mad at them for ripping the timeline away from my control, and I'd let them know. I didn't care if they were using it to figure out how to make everyone happy; I wanted that goody-two-shoes dead.

But they didn't stop. They just kept on being so nice to me and everyone else in the underground, trying to make the perfect world. I couldn't understand. I killed them over and over again, but they got sad for all the wrong reasons. Frisk wanted more than anything to make sure I was okay, and they looked at me with sympathy, especially after hearing what had happened to us, Chara. It was clear they wouldn't stop no matter what I did. I grew to respect them, and I guess they won in the end. They're kind, confident, warm, patient, snuggly, and a little bit strange, but the last part is entertaining!

Both for my Chara and Frisk, I do my best to be the best for them. And for you, of course. I still have different opinions on how things should be handled while Frisk insists on peace for everything, but I generally try to keep murder and torture to a limit. Though it really is good when I get to do it to someone like Jack.

Hey... I know I've been speaking about my Frisk, but do you think yours is okay? If you haven't heard back from them in awhile and they are getting death threats, I worry that they...

*Flowey doesn't finish, but he doesn't need to. His posture droops for a moment. The probability of death while Frisk is looking like a monster is high, even with them being so nice. It's so easy to just walk all over them. Still disturbed, Flowey begins to crawl back to the courtroom.*

I think we might be continuing the session now. I've been talking for awhile.

(Chara) "Yeah, we should go in. *They walk in while talking* Also, one quick thing you need to know about our Frisk is they're getting trans surgery. They wanted to be a boy for the longest time. Now THAT'LL get you death threats in the Undertale community. Seeing a Frisk that isn't gender neutral, I feel like some Frisk's get hanged for that! Luckily, they don't know. I might be getting off-topic as well. You know the one thing about Frisk, our creators can make them a monster, a human, a psychopath, or the sweetest human who ever lived but the second they say she,

(Chara) "BOOM!!!"

(Chara) "Reputation ruined. Anyways, they seem to be starting now!"

(Judge Reggie) "Is the defense ready?"

(John) "Yes, Judge. I'd first like to call Asgore to the stand."

(Reggie) "Go right ahead."

(John) "Thank you. Now Asgore, did you kill Chara?"

(Asgore) "No, I did not kill that child."

(John) "Did you kill Clover?"

(Asgore) "No."

(John) "What happened to the soul of justice? Specificaly the sixth soul you got."

(Asgore) "They killed themself and gave their soul to Ceroba who then gave their soul to me."

(John) "Perfect, Asgore."

(Rick) "Objection your honor, argumentative."

(John) "I didn't even say anything that..."

(Asgore) "Please just let it be."

(John) "Fine."

(Reggie) "Objection sustained. Now please John if you don't have any new information then please get away from Asgore."

(John) "I'll try to do better, sir! Asgore, have you ever felt your own actions necessary?"

(Asgore) "I needed the souls to break the barrier. We needed to get out of there! We were at war and if they invaded our homeland then we're in the right to kill them. At least in the eyes of the law."

(John) "Yes, the law! I must ask you to tell me if you've ever known what a war crime was until you left."

(Asgore) "I honestly forgot some of them now. *The jury laughed*"

(John) "Did you believe you were in the right by killing those kids?"

(Asgore) "*He practiced this before. He was going to say of course and give his reasons. Something in him made him hesitate though. He saw Chara. He froze.*"

(John) "Um, Asgore?"

(Reggie) "Asgore you're stalling a federal court! I must find you of contempt of court and sentence you for the rest of this court to go back to your cell!"

(John) "No! The guy's probably just nervous! Please give him another chance."

(Reggie) "I already did. *The bailiff forced Asgore back into a prison cell.*"

[greenerteacups]

miss ma’am gtc!!! may we pick your brain about:

- your five favorite harry potter characters

- your five least favorite harry potter characters

- five scenes from the harry potter books that altered your brain chemistry

- five scenes from the harry potter movies that altered your brain chemistry

thank you, i love u so much!!!

oh SO fun thank you for the question!!

(1) top five blorbos (in no particular order): 1. Hermione Granger (I lied about the order. She's first). She's SO. She exists at the perfect spot on the smart/stupid friendly/mean optimistic/pessimistic continuum, she's so rich. She changed me as a person when i was 11 years old and I would not be here without her, probably. The others, actually in no particular order, are: Draco Malfoy (sad little rich boy doomed by narrative but also the Narrative is social conditioning and he had free will the whole time, fucking gut-punch, mwah, the best of both kinds of tragedy) and Sirius Black (tasty, complex, brilliant rendering of a grown-up antihero who worked through his problems but still has Issues, arguably JKR's best character work in any book comes in Sirius in OOTP where he keeps comparing Harry to James, it's fucking heartbreaking). Also Remus and Ginny. (What if you forced yourself to get over your celebrity crush despite him Living With You basically 24/7 and then you became a popular confident athlete loved by all for being ferocious in defense of the vulnerable, then your celebrity crush fell head over heels for you anyway. what then?)

(2) least favorite blorbos. I think about these in the "opposite of love is indifference" type of way, because I love a character that I can hate. Like, Umbridge is awful, but I could, in theory, explain any given action that she takes by referencing her motivations and context. But I struggle with characters I don't understand, or worse, that I don't believe. Namely, Peter Pettigrew, whose betrayal kicks off the whole story to happen and is never explained. So you get all these Marauders fics where this cool, era-defining foursome is actually just The Marauder Trio Plus This Guy I Guess, but his betrayal would not have hurt these people like it did if he wasn't a dearly beloved friend. I don't like Peter because I don't believe in him, as a character. His past and his present don't match.

Same for Bellatrix, unfortunately, because although she's a cool concept, I have no idea what's under the hood in her cranium. How did the same family produce her and Andromeda? Who knows. Really sucks because she's the kind of girl who would my favorite in a different kind of story — love an evil bitch, my God — but she doesn't have the texture to get me there. Also, hot take, but Molly kind of bugs me: starting with Book 5, she gets pretty hard on Sirius (fairly! she is a parent trying to watch out for Harry, and Sirius is very much not!) but she's super unkind about it, and doesn't really try to sympathize with him at all. Plus she nags Remus about getting with Tonks, which I think is kind of out of bounds and also unrealistic for a woman who is the mother of a person Tonks's age to want, so it's just like, JKR wanted a Moral Authority to tell Remus to fuck a twenty-three year old, cool, sorry Molly, sucks that it had to be you.

Dumbledore frustrates me for similar reasons, there's just not enough flavor; the Grindelwald thing from the movies would have been great if it were handled better and also officially written into canon, because it turns Dumbledore's life into a magnificently cool You Must Become Evil To Defeat It arc. how wild would that be? Dumbledore steps out of public life in the 30's to deny himself the temptations of power but the War forces his hand, three times, first with Grindelwald and then twice with Voldemort and so — gradually, gradually, but surely — Dumbledore is made to take the power he so feared, made to accept honors and give advice to Ministers and eventually he's grooming children as soldiers and thinking this is fine, I can handle this, and then he's keeping secrets from his closest lieutenants and lying to the Ministry about his plans and he's still thinking I'm the only one who can handle this, and then by the time he realizes Harry has to die, maybe he doesn't hesitate. And maybe he's still technically morally in the right, and it's necessary, but — hey, anyone think about what Dumbledore was planning to do if Harry hadn't volunteered to die? But listen: it's for the greater good.

Because maybe he never really stopped thinking that way. Maybe you need a Greater Good Guy on your team, if you're not gonna get your ass beat, but that doesn't mean you should necessarily crown him. And maybe you're not the hero the wizarding world deserves, but you're the one it needs right now, and all his life Albus Dumbledore desperately wanted to be the hero but destiny made him the anti-villain. Anyway that was some cool fanfiction I just wrote. In the books he's an old dude who's never wrong and he likes socks.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Backseat Serenade- Klapollo

Return to File- Event Masterlist

Recovery date: July 9th, 2020

Description: Klavier X _____ songfic

Notes: An entry from my 2020 research project into the universe of Ace Attorney. This entry was decoded using the song Backseat serenade by all time low. You can find the next entry here.

Word count: 1 180

Back to directory

Lazy lover Find a place for me again You felt it once before I know you did I could see it

Klavier lay in bed, listening to a sample track from the new Gavinners album. He hadn’t taken any new cases, and had finished all his paperwork. On top of that, he didn’t have any plans for once, and just felt all around uninspired. Since he’d started focusing on prosecutor work, he’d felt out of place with the Gavineers. But he also didn’t feel completely at home with the prosecutors yet either. His mind wandered to a horned defense attorney with a big forehead. Had he ever experienced something like this? It was a strange question, but it was one he took sudden interest in.

Whiskey Princess Drink me under, pull me in You had me at come over boy I need a friend I understand

His phone buzzed, and his ringtone cut through the song he forgot was playing.

Herr Forehead 9:45 P.M Do you wanna come get drinks with me? 9:45 P.M I’m honored what’s the occasion Herr Forehead 9:45 P.M You looked sad I want company 9:48 P.M I’m confused, I don’t know what to do abo 9:50 P.M Do you want to join me or what? 9:51 P.M Of course What me to pick you up? *Want

Backseat serenade Dizzy hurricane Oh god, I'm sick of sleeping alone You're salty like a summer day Kiss the sweat away To your radio

He pulled up to Apollo’s apartment complex to find him waiting by the door. Apollo walks over and enters the passenger side before giving Klavier an address. To his surprise, it’s a bar he’s never heard of. When he voices this thought, Apollo laughs and tells him it’s not a very big bar. Somewhere out of the way where Klavier is less likely to be recognized. He assures Klavier it’s a good place though.

Backseat serenade Little hand grenade Oh god, I'm sick of sleeping alone You're salty like a summer day Kiss the pain away To your radio

The ride is quiet, so Klavier turns on the radio. He sees Apollo visible cringe when a Gaveniers song comes on and can’t help but laugh. Apollo reaches over to change the station and Klavier stops him.

“What’s so bad about my music?” He asks, feigning offence.

“It’s cheesy,” he’d said, rolling his eyes.

You take me over I throw you up against the wall We've seen it all before But this one's different It's deliberate

They’re a few drinks in when Apollo starts to open up. Not about himself mind you, just why he’d invited Klavier out.

“You looked sad after his trial,” the name doesn’t need to be said, “and I kept worrying about you.”

“Ja well, it hurts. It was always the two of us, and to think he was capable of something so cruel… it makes me worry about myself.” Apollo started fidgeting.

“If you ever wanna talk about anything, I can listen,” he said quietly.

“Anything?” Klavier asked, leaning closer to him.

“Anything.”

You send me reeling Callin' out to you for more The value of this moment lives in metaphor Yeah, through it all

It’s a week later that he wakes up in a cold sweat. Since the trial, he’s had nightmares about Kristoph, but this time was different. Instead of Kristoph being convicted, it was him, and instead of it being for the murder of Mr. Misham, it’s for the murder of Apollo Justice. So he reaches for his phone and calls Apollo. It’s only after Apollo answers, voice gruff with sleep, that he realized just how late it is. He racks his brain for an excuse for calling, and it’s only after Apollo asks if he’s okay that he answers truthfully.

“Can we take a drive Herr Justice?”

Backseat serenade Dizzy hurricane Oh god, I'm sick of sleeping alone You're salty like a summer day Kiss the sweat away To your radio

“Prosecu- Klavier, is everything okay?” Apollo asks when he picks him up.

He doesn’t answer, just starts driving. He doesn’t know where he’s going, and it’s only after Apollo asks that he realizes.

“Here, let me drive. I know somewhere we can go.”

Klavier pulls in to the next gas station, and Apollo runs in to grab some snacks before taking the driver's seat. He doesn’t say where they’re going, and even as they start to leave the city, he can’t bring himself to worry. All he does is roll down his window to let the cool summer air flood the car. Apollo turns the radio on, and a song neither of them knows comes on.

Backseat serenade Little hand grenade Oh god, I'm sick of sleeping alone You're salty like a summer day Kiss the pain away To your radio

It’s not long before Apollo pulls them over, just outside the city. It’s dark, and Klavier makes a quick joke about Apollo killing him. Apollo tells him to get out, and they go and sit on the hood of the car. Klavier notices they’re both still in their pajamas and he goes to apologize for waking Apollo when he speaks.

“Damn, it’s too cloudy. I was going to show you some constellations.” Klavier laughs,but stops when he sees Apollo getting nervous.

“While it’s a nice sentiment, what’s the plan now?” He asked before Apollo could start second guessing himself.

“Well… it’s a nice night, and I know I don’t have work tomorrow. We could stay here and talk?” Klavier thinks about it before nodding.

“Klingt gut,” he smiled. Apollo didn’t need a translation to get the idea.

Backseat serenade Dizzy hurricane Oh god, I'm sick of sleeping alone You're salty like a summer day Kiss the sweat away To your radio

They're not sure how long they talked for, nor do they care. It must have been early morning though, because people seemed to be leaving bars as they drove back into the city. Klavier drives back, and Apollo asks if he’s sure he’s okay. He offers to sleepover at Klavier’s if it will make the rockstar feel better to have company, but he declines.

Backseat serenade Little hand grenade Oh, aren't you sick of sleeping alone? We're salty on a summer day Kiss the pain away To your radio

“Apollo?” Klavier calls as Apollo steps out. He leans back down in the doorway to listen to Klavier. As soon as his head passes the door, Klavier leans in and kisses him. It’s quick, and as soon as he pulls away, he whispers, “Thank you.”

Apollo is stunned before mumbling a quick “your welcome”, and slamming the door a little harder than intended. It’s only after he gets home and has started second guessing his actions that he sees a text from Apollo.

Herr Forehead

1:27 A.M

How about dinner tomorrow?

[charlies-letters]

September 7, 1991

Dear friend, I do not like high school. The cafeteria is called the “Nutrition Center,” which is strange. There is this one girl in my advanced english class named Susan. In middle school, Susan was very fun to be around. She liked movies, and her brother Frank made her tapes of this great music that she shared with us. But over the summer she had her braces taken off, and she got a little taller and prettier and grew breasts. Now, she acts a lot dumber in the hallways, especially when boys are around. And I think it’s sad because Susan doesn’t look as happy. To tell you the truth, she doesn’t like to admit she’s in the advanced english class, and she doesn’t like to say “hi” to me in the hall anymore.

When Susan was at the guidance counselor meeting about Michael, she said that Michael once told her that she was the prettiest girl in the whole world, braces and all. Then, he asked her to “go with him,” which was a big deal at any school. They call it “going out” in high school. And they kissed and talked about movies, and she missed him terribly because he was her best friend.

It’s funny, too, because boys and girls normally weren’t best friends around my school. But Michael and Susan were. Kind of like my Aunt Helen and me. I’m sorry. “My Aunt Helen and I.” That’s one thing I learned this week. That and more consistent punctuation.

I keep quiet most of the time, and only one kid named Sean really seemed to notice me. He waited for me after gym class and said really immature things like how he was going to give me a “swirlie,” which is where someone sticks your head in the toilet and flushes to make your hair swirl around. He seemed pretty unhappy as well, and I told him so. Then, he got mad and started hitting me, and I just did the things my brother taught me to do. My brother is a very good fighter.

“Go for the knees, throat, and eyes.”

And I did. And I really hurt Sean. And then I started crying. And my sister had to leave her senior honors class and drive me home. I got called to Mr. Small’s office, but I didn’t get suspended or anything because a kid told Mr. Small the truth about the fight.

“Sean started it. It was self-defense.”

And it was. I just don’t understand why Sean wanted to hurt me. I didn’t do anything to him. I am very small. That’s true. But I guess Sean didn’t know I could fight. The truth is I could have hurt him a lot worse. And maybe I should have. I thought I might have to if he came after the kid who told Mr. Small the truth, but Sean never did go after him. So, everything was forgotten.

Some kids look at me strange in the hallways because I don’t decorate my locker, and I’m the one who beat up Sean and couldn’t stop crying after he did it. I guess I’m pretty emotional.

It has been very lonely because my sister is busy being the oldest one in our family. My brother is busy being a football player at Penn State. After the training camp, his coach said that he was second string and that when he starts learning the system, he will be first string.

My dad really hopes he will make it to the pros and play for the Steelers. My mom is just glad he gets to go to college for free because my sister doesn’t play football, and there wouldn’t be enough money to send both of them. That’s why she wants me to keep working hard, so I’ll get an academic scholarship.

So, that’s what I’m doing until I meet a friend here. I was hoping that the kid who told the truth could become a friend of mine, but I think he was just being a good guy by telling.

Love always, Charlie.

[violetsiren90]

Tomorrow is WIP Wednesday, but I'll be traveling all day and I know I won't post. So here's a snippet from the latest thing on my WIP pile that is getting more attention from me than I thought it would:

crown prince!Yoongi x f!empath!Reader

Historical/Fantasy AU

________________________________

    You knelt at the foot of the bed, your head bowed, eyes scorching the stone floor as you heard the prince stand and take measured steps toward you until the tips of his slippers shuffled into your downward view.

    "Hello, jag-eun ttagji," he said. His voice came softly, and bore the slightest edge. He had spoken the greeting almost like a question.

    "Se-ja," you murmured coldly, as if in answer. 

No, my prince, I do not wish to be here.

    "Stand."

    You clenched your jaw as you slowly rose, keeping your head lowered as your hands clutched the gauzy skirts of your sokjeoksam. You could feel the heaviness of Yoongi's eyes on your form, and you cursed the transparency that revealed your upper chest and arms.

    "Do you know what today is?" he asked, gently.

As always, his presence began to melt away your defenses. You tried to steel your heart again as you answered.

    "It is your birthday, Se-ja," you responded, palms growing slightly sweaty against the garment in their grasp.

    "I am of age."

    Your chest constricted.

    "Yes, Se-ja," your voice trembled. "Are you...unwell?"

    "No," he answered thoughtfully, reaching out his hand. You placed your little fingers over his. You could feel yourself tremble in his grasp.

    "Ttagji," he whispered softly.

    You pressed your eyes shut to hold back your tears of indignation.

    "Ttagji?" he whispered again, more earnestly.

    You raised your eyes to him, and saw his widen in surprise. In the features of your face was written, as it always had been with you, what was in your heart. And in your heart Yoongi saw fear, anger, and sadness.

    "Why, if I may be so bold, do I have the esteem of your highness' company tonight?"

    Your eyes flashed up at him as they wavered between demanding and pleading for an answer that would save you.

    "I asked for you," he answered, his gaze softening and his pink mouth tugging into a little smile. "Are you not honored?"

��   "I am humbled and greatly honored," you pressed out slowly, "But Se-ja, am I not ill-served to please you?"

    The prince's brows drew together in question.

    "I am not a concubine." 

    His lips quirked deeper into a smirk and he cast his eyes down in a bashful way, taking your other hand in his, and drawing you to sit beside him on the bed. You felt the tips of his fingers brush over the thin slip of raised skin on your palm, and his eyes flicked up to your face before he took your right hand in both of his, gently turning it over. He stared quietly at the scar that stretched from the outer corner of your wrist to the base of your index finger, lightly tracing its length with his thumb.

    "Despite what you may have been prepared for by the gungnyeo, I have not brought you here as a concubine, Y/n. I asked for you as a friend."

    When he raised his eyes to yours, you saw something in his face that reminded you of when you were little children. That same expression he had worn when you had born his measles, and you were left to play together in the garden. When you had weathered the night with him to take his fever, and he had asked you about your dreams. He wasn't a prince, in those moments. He wasn't his highness, Se-ja, heir to throne of a kingdom. He was Yoongi, and he was just a boy. All the indignation and trepidation vanished from your heart and you bowed your head once more.

    "I am not your equal so to be your friend, se-ja," you whispered reverently. 

    He slipped a finger under your chin to tip your face upward.

    "Friendship is not decided by such things. A friend is someone who would stay with me tonight, and not tell a soul that all she lost in the prince's chambers were several games of gonu." 

    You let out a laugh, and a rather unrefined one, in spite of yourself.

    "I see, Se-ja, that your highness has forgotten who between us won the lion's share."

    The prince tried to hide his smile, drawing his mouth in a straight line as he rose to settle himself by the wooden board on the floor. You followed, and sinking down across from him, took a pebble between your fingers.

    And so you spent the night in the prince's royal chambers, in your ridiculously lavish and slightly risque nightdress, reminding him how very seldom you lost a game of gonu.

[gotnofucks]

Going Against Nature

Pairing: dark!alpha!Steve x reader, dark!alpha!Bucky x reader

Summary: Steve and Bucky would change the laws of nature if that’s what would take to make you theirs. 

or

Steve and Bucky don’t like it when you smell like Peter Parker.

Words: 4.9k

Warnings: NON-CON, breeding kink, smut, FORCED BONDING, poor Peter, language, violence, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Peter is an adult!!

MASTERLIST

 +++++

You knew something was off the moment you entered your house. Energy crackled in air as you moved in, the smell in the air absolutely Alpha, and that made no sense since you were a beta. Three different alpha scents overlapped each other, but you recognized only Peter’s, your best friend’s. You crossed the hall to your living room, your dagger in your hand. Peter’s scent was emanating such fear as you had never sensed before, and you would kill anyone who harmed a hair on his head.

You turned the last corner and entered the living room, stopping short in your tracks at the sight that met your eyes. You rushed forward, the dagger falling from your hand as you knelt in front of Peter, bloodied and tied to a chair in the center of the room.

“Peter! Oh my god, what happened Peter?” You asked, your hands cupping his puffed face. His eyes were swollen shut, a groan escaping his lips when your cold hands met his feverish skin.

“Y/n…” It seemed as if it took all his energy to whisper your name and you heart broke seeing your best friend this way.

“Hey hey, calm down. I’m here, I am gonna let you out of these ropes. Pete! Keep your eyes open!” You patted his cheek, making his eyes flutter. It took him a moment to focus on your worried face but when his eyes locked on yours, anguish and panic filled them.

“Y/n, no! Go away, run. They are here. GO!” Peter shouted, struggling in the ropes as if he just wanted to push you away from here.

“Peter, what are you talking about. Lemme cut these ropes.” You turned back to get your dagger but found it missing. Your brow furrowed, you remembered dropping it when you rushed to Peter.

“Run” Peter croaked and you looked at him over your shoulder, your body stiffening as what Peter had said finally clicked.

They are here

Whoever had hurt him was still in your house. Two alphas. You could smell their scent, somewhat familiar but you couldn’t remember exactly whom. As a Beta you didn’t pay much attention to alphas, other than those closest to you. But these must be two very strong alphas to have hurt Peter, an enhanced avenger.

You stood up cautiously, eyes scanning every part of the room. You weren’t an avenger but a trained analyst and could hold your own. Blood stained your furniture, the TV console disturbed and the small knickknacks you decorated your house with strewn about. Clear signs of struggle. You took in the two glasses sitting on your table, the dirt staining your otherwise clean rug and the disturbed cushions on the couch.  Whoever they were, they made themselves home. And they hurt Peter.

“I know you are here, come out. You know I am unarmed, so there really is no reason to hide.” You called out loud, your voice strong despite the heaviness in your heart. Anyone who could do that to Peter would very easily take you down. You crept back towards Peter, eyes still taking every inch of your house even as your hand touched his cheek. Peter whimpered, in pain or concern you didn’t know.

“Hold on for me Pete, I’m gonna get us out of here. No one’s gonna hurt you on my watch.” You told him, not even sure if he was following what you said.

When no one emerged for a couple of minutes, you wondered if it will be safe running to your kitchen to get another weapon, or the gun that you hid in your bedroom. You didn’t have time to think over why anyone would harm Peter in your house of all places. When you worked with Shield and the avengers, shit happened for no reason at all. You took a risk and turned your back to the door, kneeling before Peter again. You tested the ropes with your hands and huffed when you found them tight.

“Hey Pete, can’t you hear me? I’m here with you, all right? You just hold on for me sweetie.” Your voice cracked just a little over the pathetic whimper that escaped Peter’s mouth. You were just a little older to him, and you knew no one who would harm such a sweetheart as him. Your hand pushed his hair away from his forehead, soft over the cuts that littered his body.

“You may wanna stop touching him now, cupcake.” A voice behind you called suddenly and you whipped around, stance wide and protective in front of Peter. Before you could even say anything, your eyes widened in shock.

“Sargent Barnes?” You sputtered, absolutely not expecting him to be here. But then you sniffed the air, and his scent filled your lungs, and you finally realized why it was familiar. You worked in the same tower as him, sometimes directly with him. And if he was here, then the other scent must belong to –

“Hello Y/n, how are you?” Captain America asked, appearing from behind Bucky.

“I – what? You both?” You brain had short circuited. You thought they would be the people you would report this to, not the ones responsible for it.

“Sorry for the mess, cupcake. But Spidey-boy here gave us a good fight.” Bucky remarked, his head cocked to the side.

Anger and fear rose like bile in your chest, your face heating with emotion.

“You hurt him! Why?”

Steve ambled towards you and you shifted, your body angling in a way to hide Peter from their sight. He stopped in his tracks, brows raising and eyes narrowing.

“Don’t come near him, let us leave.” You hoped your voice was commanding but seeing Steve fold his arms across his chest in annoyance your confidence crumbled.

“No need to get so defensive cupcake. The kid’s been asking for it for ages.” Bucky scoffed, still standing between you and the exit.

“He – he is a kid. The nicest goddamn person I know. Why would you hurt him?” You questioned, your guard on. Any small sign of movement and you were ready to fight.

“Why?” Steve gave a humorless laugh. “Because he’s been stinking you up with his scent. We can’t go a day without you smelling like him, his scent clinging all over you.”

Your jaw almost dropped to the ground. What the fuck? “Excuse me?”

“Sweetie, you can’t go smelling like another alpha. We don’t like it, and we thought we needed to have a talk with the kid about it. Man to man, you know. But unfortunately, he didn’t agree with our thoughts. Poor boy thought he’d be able to fight us for your honor”

Steve’s word hit your heart like a dagger, and you stumbled back closer to Peter. You didn’t know what the fuck was happening, but it didn’t seem to be faring well for you. Steve and Bucky seemed to have lost their fucking minds, and you needed to escape. Go someone far, maybe find Tony Stark and let him know that his teammates beat up his protégé.

“I don’t understand,” You fretted.

“I’ll explain if you move away from the boy and come here. We won’t hurt you, you gotta believe me cupcake.” Bucky promised coming forward and held out his hand for you.

You shook your head and your hands found Peter who was almost unconscious with blood loss now. Steve growled when your hands stayed on Peter’s shoulders and Bucky tensed.

“The kid is suffering sweetie. You don’t want him to die, do you? Come here, and we’ll treat him. Get those cuts bandaged and some pain killers in his body. Sounds good?” Steve asked.

You looked at Peter and squeezed his shoulder. He groaned and your heart gave away. You nodded to Steve, and Bucky came forward again, his hand held out. You took it slowly and Bucky drew you closer to himself, taking you away from Peter. Your eyes followed Steve who was across the room now with a medical bag in hand, antiseptic wipes and butterfly strips spread before him.

“Please don’t hurt him, he’s my best friend.” You said softly and Bucky’s hand wrapped around your waist. You stiffened as he moved in your space and sniffed at your neck.

“We won’t hurt him anymore cupcake,” Bucky assured you. “But we gotta get his smell off you. The longer it stays on you, the more I wanna kill him.”

You peered into Bucky’s face, acutely aware of Steve tending to Peter’s wounds from the corner of your eyes.

“What’s happening here? I don’t understand why you’re doing whatever you’re doing. You’re supposed to be the good guys” You said and heard Steve chuckling.

“We are the good guys, but we get mad when teenage guys who can’t even grow a beard start touching what doesn’t belong to them. He put his hands on you, on what’s ours. We couldn’t let that go, not when he refused to stop seeing you.”

Your nose scrunched in confusion and fear. You were not stupid enough to try and fight them. You were an analyst because you could judge a situation and how dangerous it is. Right now, your odds of getting away with Peter were next to none, especially with him in such a delicate condition. However, you still didn’t understand what they meant.

“I don’t belong to you. You can’t claim me” You countered; your eyes now trained on Peter who flinched with every swipe of medicine.

“Can’t we?” Bucky whispered right in your ears making you shiver at the close proximity. You placed a hand on his chest and pushed, but he barely even moved.

“Of course, you can’t. I am not an omega. You…you both are alphas. You can’t claim a beta.”

Bucky and Steve looked at each other knowingly and shared a small, secret laugh. Bucky had maneuvered himself behind you now, both arms holding yours and securing them in front of you. His chin rested on your head, the slight stubble grazing your neck.

“You’re not an omega yet.” Bucky told you and hugged you to himself and your breath sharpened.  

Steve finished patching Peter up and you were thankful he had been honest and gentle. He offered him some water from a glass and Peter gulped it greedily, also swallowing the pills Steve offered. His eyes were now open, and he looked at you across the room in Bucky’s arms with sadness in his eyes.

“I am so sorry Y/n, I should have done better to protect you.” He apologized and your eyes filled with tears. You wanted to run across in his arms, sooth his fears like you’d done so many times before.

“She’s not yours to protect kid, I thought we made it clear.” Steve grunted in displeasure and Peter scowled at him. Even tied up and at their mercy with wounds still dripping slowly, he managed to convey anger and hatred in his glance. Not an ounce of fear in his eyes and you knew if he were free, he’d be standing before you, being your shield.

“Mr. Stark was right when he said you are dangerous. When you believe something is right you never consider the consequences or the lives you’ll harm. You are no hero Captain, and I am sorry I ever considered you one.” Peter spat and you almost smiled.

Steve looked at Peter with a smirk on his face and then walked towards you and Bucky. He stopped right in front of you, looking Peter dead in his eyes before dipping down and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You struggled in Bucky’s arm, whining under Steve’s lips that didn’t let up until you were almost out of oxygen. He pulled back and you gasped, eyes stinging due to his assault.

“Doesn’t matter what you feel kid, ‘cause we got our girl in our arms while you’re tied up helpless.” Steve taunted.

“Please, I don’t know what you want. You can’t have me. I am a beta.” You sobbed.

Steve cupped your face and rubbed his nose to yours, cooing at you. Bucky was still holding you to himself and you could feel his hardness against your back.

“Baby, we know you are not an omega. At least not yet. But you are ours, and we have a solution. Don’t we Buck?” Steve said and you felt Bucky nod. Your eyes desperately locked on Peter’s, both of you feeling helpless.

Bucky handed you into Steve’s embrace and pulled out of his pocket a small metal case. Flipping it open he drew out a syringe filled to brim with some blue drug. Your gut clenched in fear as you looked at it, already knowing you didn’t’ want this thing anywhere near you.

“Don’t look so scared cupcake, it’s very safe. Hydra used to use it all the time, but we still had Bruce check this out and he says its safe.” Bucky said to you and you shifted in Steve’s arms.

“Dr Banner is involved with you?” You choked out. You always liked him, and this betrayal of trust cut even deeper.

“Oh, he doesn’t know this is for you. He’s a mad scientist who would research anything in the name of science. Don’t really care much about the consequences, do they?” Bucky mused. “You don’t need to worry much; it won’t hurt for long. One dose and your dynamic will start shifting. You’ll be an omega soon enough.”

Both Peter and you started at the news and your struggles renewed.

“Please don’t do this to me. Why are you doing this? You could have literally any omega out there who will be proud to have you as her alphas.” You cried and Steve shushed you like a mother does to her baby, his hand caressing your head gently.

“We don’t want them, we want you. You are strong and beautiful and a perfect fit for us. You’ll be a great mate and mother to our pups.” Steve said.

Your eyes blurred with tears, body feeling exhausted from your useless struggles. Peter was shuffling around in the chair to no avail. You felt corner and trapped, and you felt useless as an analyst. No part of your training could prepare you for a forced transformation at the hands of the strongest alphas on the planet who wanted to mate you.

“You don’t have to do this. There is a reason nature made me a beta. You can’t do this to me.” You sobbed in Steve’s chest and your tears seeped into his shirt.

“Cupcake, nature makes mistakes. Steve and I were supposed to die seventy years ago, yet look at us now, still alive. You are meant to be ours, our girl, our mate. And we’ll correct nature’s mistakes.”

You shouted as Bucky injected the syringe into your squirming body without warning, your screams of pain mixing with Peter’s protests. Liquid fire raced through your veins and you writhed, losing all control and senses. All you felt was heat and pain, starting from your toes to your head. You could hear your heart threatening to burst out of your chest, your throat raw from your screams. It was never ending, the inferno that was running across your body, changing your biology in its wake. Your every cell seemed to light up and turn itself inside out, your skin crawling. You scratched at yourself and your hands were held down along with your legs, eyes wide open and yet not seeing anything.

You didn’t know if it lasted minutes or days, the pain setting in your bones. Your surrounding was the same and yet the world had changed. You were shivering uncontrollably, sobbing incessantly, and crying out gibberish. Your eyes slowly focused as pain started dissipating bit by bit, your heart thumping irregularly and fast. You were on the floor of your living room, body held immobile with someone’s weight. You whined and they stirred, getting off you and suddenly you were sitting, a glass of water thrust in your face. You gulped it down, the cool liquid doing little to sooth the burn that still simmered deep inside you.

As you breathed, you suddenly gagged and heard someone moving around you. You were choking on air, the scents in the room smothering you. Your new formed omega senses picked up the spicy tangs of alphas and it made you dizzy. Someone was calling your name, yet it was all you could do to keep breathing and not faint again.

“Open the goddamn windows! She’s overwhelmed!” Someone shouted and soon fresh air breezed inside, easing your discomfort a bit. You held your chest, curling in on yourself and breathed deeply.

“Use your mouth to breath sweetie”

You did as commanded and eventually your breathing got easier. You sat with your head between your folded knees for a long time, trying to remember what happened. After what felt like forever, you gazed up and around you, coming face to face with three worried alphas.

“Y/n?” The young alpha tied to the chair called. You looked at him. You knew him, and the others too. Steadily your memories came back, and your eyes filled with tears, and you form shook as heart wrenching sobs wracked your body. Bucky crawled to you and very slowly reached out, his arm curling around your shoulder. You wanted to push him off, curse him away but your body instinctively leaned into him, seeking his warmth and protection.

“Shh cupcake, I got you. I got you baby” He whispered and kissed your hair.

Another pair of arms wrapped around you; a head tucked into your neck. Steve rubbed soothing circled in your sides, his breath washing over you. You were cocooned in their warmth and drenched in their scent, the nature of your biology bending to their wills and calming your racing heart. Soon enough your sobs turn to little sniffles and Bucky wiped your nose with the hem of his t-shirt.

“That’s it, omega, you’re doing so good. Just breath. We’re right here.” Steve said in your ear and you quivered at the timber of his voice.

You gradually raised your head up and the two alphas shifted a little to allow you space. Your eyes darted around your house as if seeing it for the first time, unintentionally falling on things you would need for your nest. Most of all, your eyes set on Peter who looked at you in both pain and wonder.

“Pete?” Your voice was broken, and you saw his eyes close, two streams of tear travelling down his face.

“I am so sorry” He said, helpless and feeling like a failure. He had failed his best friend, the one person who loved him unconditionally.

You heard two growls and two sets of arms on you. Bucky and Steve were baring their teeth at Peter, their bodies ready to attack. You made a pleading noise in your throat and they both looked at you, softening.

“Don’t hurt him” You begged.

Steve pulled you closer and buried his head in your neck, scenting you. His chest rumbled beneath your hand and he purred at your scent filled his lungs.

“Oh god, her scent Buck.” He mumbled, his nose tracing your jugular and Bucky joined in. They took their time with it, rubbing their cheek and neck all over you.

You were feeling overwhelmed, your omega body not used to the sudden flood of emotions and smell. Every nerve ending in your body was taut with tension and your every sense was enhanced by ten times. Their purrs washed over you, and the vibration of their body sent bolts across your spine that settled between your legs. You squeezed your thighs as you felt wetness coat your pussy, your temperature rising. Your body flushed, your scent getting heavier while you started panting. You didn’t need to be an omega to know what was happening, you’d seen it happen to plenty omegas before. You were like a young omega who had just presented and was undergoing her first heat.

Your scent wafted across the room and all the way through the house and you clenched your fist tight, nails digging into your palms. Pain such as you had never know bloomed in your abdomen, cramping your muscles and making you cry out.

“Y/n, what’s happening to her?” Peter shouted and you reached out a hand to him, body too exhausted and dazed to move much. Steve glowered and took your hand in his, the heat in your body burning his like a furnace.

“She’s in heat” Bucky rasped, his voice husky with arousal. Your heat was so powerful that it was sending them into an early rut. He moaned when his tongue swiped across your scent glands, tasting you. “Our omega”

“Ours for taking, ours for filling. You’ll take our mark and our pups” Steve vowed and you cried out when you felt both their hands roaming your body. You wanted to move away, tell them no but your body was at odds with your mind. You were vulnerable under their hands, your presentation craving their touch even as your mind told you to run. You convulsed under the feeling of their hands over your clothed breast and ass, moaning loud into the air. You had no control over your actions, and you let them paw at you unwillingly.

“Don’t touch her! Leave her alone!” Peter shouted and the three of you came out of your trances, having completely forgotten that he was here. You stared into his eyes, and he saw in them what you really felt. Your scent surrounded him and with your gaze locked on him, he squirmed.

“Look at that Steve, the kid wants our omega. You see cupcake, your best friend is getting hard seeing you being handled by us” Bucky almost sang, his hands tweaking your nipples through your shirt and you wheezed out a moan.

“See and learn kid, how to take your woman. And when you do that, know this is the only time you’ll see her this way. She’s ours and by the time this night is over, she’ll be proudly wearing our mark.” Steve said, deftly unbuttoning your shirt.

Peter and you kept looking at each other, Steve and Bucky stripping you down bare. You were too far gone to feel embarrassed at being naked in the plain view of three men. Bucky touched your tummy, rubbing his hands over your skin that made you close your eyes in pleasure. Steve’s mouth found your nipples, licking and sucking with vengeance while Bucky kissed you. You never stood a chance against them, your body dictating your every move. You kissed back and bucked against their bodies, sweat collecting where your bodies touched. Your voice rose an octave higher when Bucky’s metal hand reached between your thighs, his cold fingers collecting your slick and spreading it around you.

“Oh cupcake, look how wet you are. Look how pretty you are all spread out for us.” He groaned in your mouth.

Steve who was just done sucking a hickey below your collarbone shimmied down your body, nestling himself between your thighs. His lust blown eyes met yours and the intensity in them made your walls flutter. Maintaining the eye contact, he licked a broad strip with the flat of his tongue and you jerked under him, back arching with sensations going around your body like fireworks.

Bucky took of your hand and wrapped it around his cock, showing you how to pump it. You never noticed him getting naked, nor did you care. Steve was ruining your cunt with his talented tongue, swirling it in circles around your clit while two of his fingers delved in your heat. The coil in you stretched to breaking point, finally snapping when Bucky bit down on your nipple causing you to howl your release in the air. Steve rubbed you gently, bringing you down from your high, his face covered in your juices and you clenched hard.

To your surprise Steve leaned over you and pulled Bucky into a dirty French kiss, sharing your taste with him. Bucky fisted his hair, his tongue moving in and out of Steve’s mouth and the sight only made you hotter.

“So, this is what heaven tastes like” he muttered, and you whimpered. Steve was taking off his shirt and Bucky took his time pumping his fingers into you, stretching you open. “Gotta loosen you up for both of us cupcake. You need to be nice and stretchy to take out knot.”

You never realized you were fondling your own breasts, trying to find relief from the heat that was centered in your core. You needed them to fill you, stuff you until you couldn’t take it anymore. You saw Bucky look at his arousal coated hands that glistened.

“Steve, we have been so cruel. Look at the poor kid” He said, and you and Steve looked at Peter who was in agony. His eyes were large and locked on you, both sorry and aroused.

“Give him a taste Buck, because he will never get the chance again.” Steve said, now naked and stroking his large cock. Bucky got on his knees and moved closer to Peter, his wet fingers right before Peter’s lips. Your mouth was parted in surprise, a strangled sound escaping you as Peter leaned down to pull Bucky’s fingers in his mouth and sucked. His eyes closed at your taste and you found yourself burning more than ever.

“Please” you begged, to all of them.

“She liked it Steve, look at our girl. You like him getting a taste of you? That make you hot, cupcake?” Bucky teased you and you nodded.

“She needs our knot Bucky; she looks like she’ll combust. You want us sweetie? Tell me how much you want us” Steve ordered, straddling your lower half, his hard cock right over your entrance. He brushed it over your swollen clit, collecting your juices and covering himself in them.

“Need your cock alphas. I need you inside me. Please” You had no dignity left and you were crying as you begged. Steve aligned himself and pushed inside slowly, your body welcoming him.

“Oh god, look at you sweetie, so perfect for me. Look how you suck me inside your cunt and clench hard like you don’t want me to leave.”

He began thrusting, his cock hitting you in that special spot that made your breath hitch and eyes roll. You clawed at the rug, your nails digging inside as you gave moan after moan.

“Open up cupcake” Bucky ordered, his cock slapping your cheek. You opened up and he went straight in, sitting still for a moment to let you adjust. They thrusted in you in a rhythm, pushing and pulling in perfect sync. Steve played with your bud and your whines vibrated up Bucky’s cock so that he fucked your face harder.

“Just like that honey, just like that. Mine. Ours”

Your second orgasm came suddenly and took your breath, and your walls clamped so hard on Steve that he cursed loudly before absolutely letting go and thrusting like a demon in you.

“Gonna give you my knot, gonna make you round with my pups. God you feel so good baby”

He jerked inside you, his knot swelling at the base and stretching you until you felt it would tear you apart. Heat bloomed in your womb, and Steve’s release coated your walls as the same time that Bucky came down your throat.

“Oh cupcake, you are so so good.” Bucky said, his hand caressing your hair. He held you body in his arms, tangling his legs with Steve and yours. You were still locked together with Steve, his knot holding his cum inside. “Gonna fill you up with my seed after Stevie is done. Gonna knot you my little omega.”

 +++++

The night was long and strenuous, your body bent into shapes you didn’t know it could take. Bucky and Steve knotted you multiple times and your addled mind welcome them each time. Peter looked at your union with them in desolation, sitting in his ruined pants. He had come in his pants, not being able to help himself. He wouldn’t meet your eyes but when Bucky let him taste you again, he opened his mouth like an obedient pet.

You were sleeping soundly before the couch, a temporary nest of blankets and your alphas’ clothes around you. Two fresh marks decorated your neck, sealing your fate with Steve and Bucky. They knew the true battle would begin once you came out of your heat stupor, but they can handle you together. You belonged to them. They had claimed you against what nature said. You were theirs.

“That’s how you take a girl kid.” Bucky said as he cut Peter free finally. The poor boy was both mentally and physically exhausted and Steve had to steady him lest he fall.

“You won’t look at her again will you?” Steve asked and Peter shook his head in dejection. He had failed you and your friendship. He was to be blamed. As if Steve read his mind, he patted his back gently. “It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. She was meant to be ours regardless of everything that happened. I am sorry about how the evening went, but if it were your mate you would understand.”

Peter’s shoulders slumped and he had no more tears to lose. He looked pleadingly at them.

“Don’t hurt her, please. She doesn’t deserve that.” He said.

Bucky smiled at Peter is assurance.

“We look after our own, kid. She’ll be fine”

 +++++

TAGLIST IS OPEN FOR ALL CHARACTERS

[beels-burger-babe]

I have been given permission to go off about this, your mistake cause I gotta a lot of shit to say.

With the funky order of gaining pacts that the Sisters keeper Mc is gaining, I'm both excited and a little sad. Like on one hand, "OH, this is new and exciting I cant wait to see how this goes" plus if Mc if already has a pact with Satan then that weird dating sim mini arc is looking less and less likely. (though this feral Mc would have been fucking hilarious to see in that) That being said, original Satan pact arc not being there means Satan no longer deals with his daddy issues, that's not really a bad thing cause this Mc is so not in the emotional stable place to help with that kinda bullshit. Who knows maybe something totally different happens or he just slowly gets over it just by helping with Harper.

Sad, because the Beel pact arc is getting less and less likely. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but it was basically Mc having that funky heritage that allowed them to bypass getting Lucifer's pact in the original game. Adding Harper to the mix just means instead of going 5 for 6 pacts mc can go 4 for 6. SO BEEL CAN JUST BE STRAGHT UP IGNORD. This isn't just me wanting the original Beel arc written for the following reasons. Beel is best boy, any excuse to write Luke and Harper interacting is a good excuse, this Mc has been looking for an excuse to throw down since day one "you want me to choose I choose violence", also I'm biased. But even if Mc went a completely new rout of getting Beel's pact, he deserves to interact with Harper, not the kid that looks like Lilith. Also he was the most emotionally well adjusted of the brothers. With this Mc, he gains the title of most emotionally stable of the household. I'm excluding Harper cause she's a kid and even then Belphie will make sure that Beel will have that spot in a few chapters.

Also Satan's relationship with Mc reminds me of a cat you bring on and when it lays its head on you, your just "I've been gifted with on honor, I must protect it with my fucking life"

If any of this sounded like I was suggesting certain plot lines to you, I'm not. I'm just making jokes and guesses based on the original game which this fanfic has made it very clear its not following.

OOOOOOOO!!! These are definitely some interesting theories!

So you're right in saying that this fic is definitely a canon divergence fic. The order of the pacts, some of the events surrounding the gaining of pacts, and of course MC's with brother's will be quite different.

However, I do still plan on covering all (except Mammons) earnings of the pacts. Beel and Satan included. Satan's will be less to earn his pact though, and more so to deepen his relationship with MC and address some of his character's flaws and, as you said, daddy issues.

Beel's has been planned in my head for a while, but alas it must be saved as MC will be pushing him back for as long as possible. Poor baby. But I promise we will get some Beel and Harper interaction in the future!

MC is this weird balance of "I can and will fight you," but is also deeply terrified of the situation that they are in. Their priority is, and always will be Harper, and as a result, this means that they are determined to stay alive because they are all Harper has.

And you got Satan and MC's relationship right on the nail! Satan was just interested in the anger and defensiveness of MC at first, but then showed that they trusted him. Not Lucifer. Not any of his brothers. Him. And he doesn't take that lightly.

I loved hearing about all of this and talking about it, so never apologize!

[jojikawa]

Mrs. Bucciarati | Bruno Bucciarati x Fem! Reader | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

┊❥ Part 6 - Down Time

MASTERLIST

✧『Fandom』: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

✧『Character』: Bruno Bucciarati

✧『Word Count』: 3,129 words 16,714 characters

✧『Summary』: The group kills time as they wait for Giorno and Mista to reach their destination.

The group quickly made its way back on the road to Venezia. Mista, Fugo, and Giorno were on the surface, driving the car while everyone else stayed inside to protect Trish as a second line of defense.

Inside the turtle, you had been sitting in between Narancia and Abbacchio. You had sat there first because Narancia wanted to show you something in the magazine he was reading but Abbacchio made it awkward by sitting next to you.

You had taken notice because previously, he was trying to avoid you.

Bruno was sitting on the other side of the table, his head tucked into the laptop that was used for communications. You wanted to talk but you felt like that would be distracting since he wanted to focus.

You didn’t know why but often, you would think of the first time the two of you met and the events that followed. You used to cringe at the memory of it but now that you were sure about your feelings towards him, it was wholesome.

One of your favorite memories with him was during a “charity” event your father held a few years ago. It wasn’t actually for anything charity-related.

Just another excuse to greet Italian capos. You hated it. You hated how corrupt your father was. He had a way of keeping investors while still doing dirty work.

Amongst them was Polpo from Passione in Italy and with him was a young Bruno Bucciarati. He was 17 at the time and you had just turned 16. Polpo agreed to take Bruno with him after much begging on his part. The boy just wanted to see you again.

That night, you were completely upset. Your father wanted you to sing since he and much of the staff agreed you had a nice singing voice. You were too nervous and honestly, you couldn’t even see yourself singing well at all. This upset him and he made you stay by him all night.

The ball was boring until Bruno had arrived. He found you quickly and wanted to talk. He figured that you were being held hostage by your father and wanted to help.

When we walked over, he cleared his throat. “Excuse me.” He said, grabbing your father’s attention. Your father had been speaking to a popular district attorney.

“It’s an honor to have been invited here, Mr. (l/n).” Bruno bowed, trying to seem as gentlemanly as possible.

Your father finished up his conversation before nodding the attorney away and taking a sip of his drink. “Oh, Bruno Bucciarati. I didn’t know Polpo was bringing you. I’m sure I only sent out one invitation.” Your father joked, even laughing when no one found it funny.

You just tried to tune him out, fiddling with your dress that was the same color as your father’s tuxedo.

Bruno humored him, laughing as well. “Well, you see, I couldn’t pass up the chance of hearing (y/n) sing so I had Polpo make room for one more.” His eyes lingered over to you. Bruno seemed so friendly and soft but he was tall for his age and it was almost intimidating…

You looked away, blushing after seeing the innocent twinkle in his eyes when he saw you were all dressed up. Normally, you were wearing loungewear since you were always inside. You looked so stunning!

“That’s too bad because little (y/n) over here decided that she didn’t want to help me pull any investors and she’s not singing at all tonight.” Your father lazily waved his hand in your direction, sipping more of his wine.

“I don’t believe I can sing. I’ve never had any lessons.” You spoke up for the first time. Your father narrowed his eyes at you. “Then after tonight, we’re getting you some.”

You sighed, looking away from your father and off to the side. This was so awkward… you wanted to leave.

Bruno saw what was unfolding and intervened before things could escalate.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Mr. (l/n). I’m sure (y/n) has an amazing voice. She’s just shy and there’s nothing wrong with that. Perhaps, I can help her build her confidence.” He offered his hand to you. You just stared at it.

Your father sighed. “I suppose so. I trust you, Bruno.”

Your father then let you spend the night with him and it was a lot better than just standing around.

All night, Bruno had been such a gentleman and even slow danced with you when no one was watching. You weren't very good and neither was he but you still found it enjoyable.

You had been reminiscing about the past when your thoughts were interrupted by Bruno who had been speaking to Abbacchio.

Bruno had gotten a message on the laptop asking Abbacchio to use his stand to reveal a message that was left behind.

Everyone had gathered around and you got up to look too.

Abbacchio decided to go back 15 hours. The person Moody Blues took the shape off was of the older man you had seen when you all first picked up Trish.

He explained more instructions for the team to follow. You felt so out of place. Everything about this was so bizarre. The moment you get to be with Bruno, you get wrapped up in some elaborate plan. You haven’t sat down with him since you arrived.

When you came to, you saw the image of Mr. Pericolo with a gun to his head. You had only zoned out for a moment! What happened?

Pericolo explained that because of his influence, the enemy knows that he’s helping Bruno deliver Trish. He isn’t a stand user so he doesn’t know how he could defend himself.

His only escape was killing himself before they got to him. It was tragic but these are things you sign up for in Passione.

He pulled the trigger and you saw red before Bruno hugged you to his chest and turned around to block the image of what you almost saw.

You tried to resist but he only held you tighter until the image of it was gone.

“Oh my god!!” You heard Narancia yell.

Trish and Abbacchio were speechless. You had wished that Bruno could’ve used his energy to protect the eyes of one of the children, especially Trish, but it was over now.

You wanted to cry but you were in so much shock. You felt like after everything was over, you would need some kind of therapy. It’s only been a few days and you’ve endured so much trauma. You were just a human.

“Bruno…” you tried to loosen his grip. “…let go.”

He squeezed you again when you had said his name but then without a word, he let go of you. He stood up to talk but his eyes were darkened and he was visibly sweating.

“Mr. Pericolo.”

You were dazed for a moment by his behavior but then you looked over at Trish who must have been traumatized.

You walked over and grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry that you had to see that. Are you okay?” You asked, sweetly. Her eyes darted over to you. She was shaking and sweating as well. It hurt you that she had to deal with all of this at such a young age.

“M-mhm.” She nodded and gave your hand a tight squeeze. “It’s going to be okay.” You told her.

You then realize that you would have to comfort Narancia, Fugo, and Giorno, as well. Being a mother figure wasn’t easy. You felt so obligated to be there for all of them but it was impossible.

You didn’t know how helpful Bruno was towards the younger members but you could only hope he took their mental health into account.

Before you could ask everyone about how they felt, Bruno had sent Mista and Giorno to drive while the rest of you stayed inside the turtle.

You couldn’t figure out why Bruno kept sheltering you. He wanted you by his side or inside the turtle at all times. You wanted to be able to help him protect everyone. You were tired of him acting like he could do everything on his own.

It was hard trying to get a good word in since everyone was in such close proximity. To everyone else, the way you and Bruno interacted was similar to parents. All of the kids had prominent parental issues so the two of you served as a support system when they needed it.

You were sitting next to Trish and you were unsure if you should give her space or make yourself available to speak to. You thought that maybe you should use this time to talk to Bruno but Trish had actually spoken first.

“Mrs. Bucciarati, what was your life like before you came here?” Her voice was pretty monotone as always but you could tell she was sad.

“My life? Well, I was pretty much a homebody. I just tended to my garden and practiced Italian.” You answered.

“Practicing Italian? Why?” She looked at you before realizing you weren’t a native Italian. It’s probably why your dialect sounded a bit different than most. You had a more formal way of speaking compared to the others.

“I’m from America and I know Bruno because I’m the daughter of a boss as well.” You explained with a smile. She didn’t reply to you. She just stared at you with her mouth opened a small bit. Maybe she could finally relate to someone.

You then turned your attention to Bruno who had been using the laptop. You were so worried about the boys. It didn’t feel right for you to send Mista and Giorno out on their own.

“Bruno.” You got up from your spot with Trish and went over to Bruno. You didn’t want to create a scene, so just in case things escalated, you spoke in English.

“I know you have faith in the boys, but is it really wise to send them out on their own? I could’ve gone with them.” You said down next to him, not really interested in what he was doing enough to look.

He just hummed before saying. “I don’t want you to be separated from me anymore. The last two times we got separated, you were hurt and every time we’ve been attacked, you were hurt.”

You huffed. “But you told me you were proud of me. You still don’t believe I can handle myself?”

“Cara mia, I know you can handle yourself but I just can’t have you hurt anymore. You were only taught to fight to a certain extent. If either of us makes a mistake then you could be killed.” His voice was firm. He’s never spoken to you in this tone before and it almost embarrassed you.

“But we have made mistakes. We both have. I’ve done my part in helping. I just still haven’t proven myself to you.” You turned away from him, upset that he was babying you and belittling the training you went through just for him.

Bruno look over at you who had been completely facing the other way. He reached over to your shoulder but you lightly jerked it away.

Why couldn’t you just understand that he was trying to protect you? Was it really wise to promise Giorno this ridiculous plan? Your first impression of Italy has just been filled with bloodshed. Although, if he didn’t then he never would have been Capo.

How long would it have taken him to reach the status of Capo normally?

Bruno pushed those thoughts out of his head. Maybe he was smothering you a little. It was just so hard not seeing you as a delicate flower anymore. He wished that he could’ve seen you more.

As an attempt to show affection, he reached out to your hand that has been free and resting on the sofa. The tips of his fingers brushed yours lightly but you had quickly curled them up, hiding them in a fist.

You didn’t seem to want to hold hands either.

Across the room, Fugo and Narancia were pondering on what you two could’ve been talking about. They didn’t know much English either. It was easy for the others to pay so much attention to you because of how new you were to them.

“Hey, Fugo, you know some English right? What do you think they’re talking about?” Narancia asked. “I’ve never seen Bucciarati so soft!” He hoarsely whispered into his ear.

Fugo, who was trying to rest his eyes, was getting annoyed at the boy. “No, Narancia, I don’t know what they’re saying. I’m not going to violate their privacy either. If it were meant for us to hear, then they wouldn’t have changed languages in the first place.” He explained. This made Narancia frown and retract himself.

You figured that maybe you should talk to Abbacchio for advice. You went over to the purple schemed man and Bruno’s eyes followed you curiously.

He watched as you talked to Leone with confidence and not anything at all like he expected. At first, when you first met them in Naples, he could sense your fear for that man but now you didn’t seem like you were at all.

“Leone,” You sighed and his head snapped over to you. You jumped at his reaction. “A-Abbacchio, I mean, sorry.” You raised your hands in defense and began to sweat. His neutral expression didn’t change. Deep down he didn’t mind your voice saying his name.

“As Bruno always called the shots this way? Sending the children out?” You asked softly.

This annoyed Abbacchio but still, his expression didn’t change. Of course, you would want to talk to him about Bruno of all people. Since you’ve been here, it’s just been about you and him and can’t even last 2 minutes apart when you’re just a foot away from him.

He knew that the only reason he felt this way was that he was jealous. He was probably just jealous of Bucciarati the whole time. What would it take for him to get a woman like you?

“Yeah. Always been that way.” He replied. “They know that they’re doing. Nothing new.”

A small gasp left your mouth. Everyone seemed so uncaring of the safety of the boys. But this didn’t have to mean the end.

You just had to be strong enough to protect them yourself. “I see.” That was all you had said. You didn’t care if it didn't seem like Bruno had faith in you or that there were so many children or how nonchalant Leone was about it. You had a stand too and you knew how to use it.

“Th-That’s all.” You smiled nervously before giving the man his space. You scooted further away, not wanting to move around too much and irritate everyone.

When you looked up, you saw that Bruno was just staring at you, watching. He looked upset but not angry. You wanted to comfort him but you were still upset with him. You’ve worked so hard and it’s like it doesn’t even matter to him.

For some hours, you occupied yourself with a magazine. You tested yourself by reading Italian fashion articles and keeping notes of things you wanted to buy with Bruno’s money. You made sure to bookmark pages with nice shoes and dresses you’d like to try on.

Your actions were interrupted by feeling a portion of the couch next to you sink. You looked to your left to see it was Bruno with the computer resting on his lap. He didn’t say a word and only shifted his weight so that his thigh was touching your exposed one.

This made you blush, so hard that physically acknowledged that he had done this when his goal was to be smooth with it.

“B-Bruno-” You whispered. Bruno ignored you, resting a free hand on the thigh closest to him. He leaned over, so close that the message you got was that he was trying to kiss you.

Really? In front of everyone? What’s gotten into him?

“Are you upset with me?” He whispered into your ear.

Your face heated up. You would feel his breath hitting your ear.

“N-No.” You replied, turning your head to him.

His eyes were narrowed and his face frowned. He leaned in further but he didn’t kiss you. He…licked your face?!

You yelped, breaking contact with him. What the hell was that!?

“To me, it seems like you’re lying.”

“Huh? Is this that lie detection thing you told me about? I thought that was a joke…” You wiped the faint sign of saliva on your face. “Warn me next time, okay?”

He chuckled before kissing you softly. “I thought it would cheer you up.” He said in between breaths.

You kissed back tenderly, your cheeks burning at his actions. Was this a dream?

Your minor make-out session was cut short when Narancia had brought you both back to reality.

Butterflies grew inside of you as you covered your face and turned away. You were always such a shy and delicate flower and now he knew that he could tease you with a public display of affection.

Narancia had been volunteering to be the one to go out to be on the surface so that he could use Aureo Smith to find Mista and Giorno.

You parted from Bruno, enjoying the remaining time just leaning against him. His body was warm and his cologne was faint with a hint of sweat from all the intense fighting.

You were an odd couple but the love was undeniable.

Mista and Giorno were found. Mista had sustained a lot of injuries, which the blonde male healed with his stand.

You played your role and scolded Mista at his lack of awareness to which he replied by calling you “Mom.”

“You should be more careful. You can’t always expect your wounds to be fixed. Giorno can’t help you forever!” You tapped his forehead aggressively.

“Hey, Hey! Yeah, I get it, okay, mom?” He swatted your hand away. This made you giggle.

“Mom? Where’d that come from?” You asked, chuckling to yourself.

“ ‘Cause, you’re annoying like one.” He yelled at you with faint pink dust on his cheeks.

You were the first female figure in his life that worried about him the way you did. It was very easy for them to get attached to you since they were all from broken homes.

It has only been a few days but with Bruno’s tough love and your soft and gentle nature, you two were scaffolding for what having parents was like. Minus the killing of the mafioso members pursuing you, of course.

It was unfortunate that such a cute “family” would come to an end.

[yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen]

Hey 👋

How are you?

Could I please request a king Arthur prompt when he first starts courting his partner but originally they cant stand him like they think hes too cocky but he worms his way into their heart 🥰

Pairing: King Arthur x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + for language, a little angst.

Masterlist 

The Queen 

“Arthur, you could have any girl in the entire realm at your fingertips; why did you have to choose this one?” Wet Stick sighs, watching from under his cloak and cursing his friend for his taste in women. “He couldn’t just pick one of those nice noble ladies; he had to pick a headstrong girl with a chip on her shoulder,” he grumbles to himself. 

You locked up the shop behind you and take off home, turning once to wave into the shadows knowing the knight is there watching. He emerges on a large brown horse, coming to walk beside you. “Good Evening, Sir Tristan; how was your day today?” you smile up at him, and he laughs with a shake of his head. 

“How do you always know where I am, my Lady?” You reach into your knapsack and pull out a warm cheese roll wrapped in cloth, handing it up to him. “Thank you, ma’am,” he unwraps it and takes a large bite, moaning at the taste. “Is this why he wants to marry you? Because of how delicious your baking is? Honestly, if the King weren’t enamored with you, I’d probably ask you myself,” he laughs. 

You groan, pulling your green cloak above your head. “Sir Tristan, how many times must I ask that you call me by my name? I am no lady, just a baker, no one special.” 

“The King would disagree.” You cringe and walk a little faster towards the warmth of your cottage. “He thinks you’re the most beautiful maiden in the entire Kingdom, and Arthur always gets what he wants, and that’s you, my lady.” You stop and glare at him; he holds his hands up in defense using your name. 

“Why would I want that cocky, overbearing brute of a man to marry me? He can go to hell for all I care.” Tristan doesn’t take offense like other knights because he knows how overbearing his friend can be. It’d been amusing to see Arthur fall for the beautiful, headstrong woman. Every flower ended up in the trash, letter burnt, and request for an audience denied. Arthur was close to giving up on courting the woman, but something was holding him back. 

“Have I ever told you what he was like growing up?” You roll your eyes, already dreading the tale that is sure to highlight only the King’s good points. 

“No,” you mumble, “but I’m sure it some heroic tale.” He barks out a laugh, and you stop to watch him, “what’s so funny?” 

“What do you know about the King? Honestly, tell me,” he jumps down from the horse and grabs the reins walking beside you. “Because if that’s your opinion, then you don’t know him at all.” 

You think about all you know about the King and realize with an ache in your belly that you didn’t know much about the King besides the rumors you’d heard. “Well,” you stumble, “he’s arrogant...uhm, he doesn’t care about anyone but himself...and,” you struggle to come up with something else, much to Tristan’s amusement. 

“Arthur was raised in a brothel,” you pause, raising a brow, “I’m telling the truth. When his parents were murdered, he floated down the river in a boat and was found by the prostitutes washing their clothes by the river. They took him in and raised him. He, in turn, grew up and protected them. The brothel was one of the only places in all of Londinium that women were treated with respect. If someone got too handsy with one of the girls, Arthur would beat them within an inch of their life before they’d even think to disrespect a woman like that. Then he’d take all their money and give it to the girl.” 

“He’s also really smart, smarter than the lot of us, at least. He had coffers hidden in the wall of the brothel behind a bookshelf. He dreamed of getting out and buying himself a piece of land, building a home. The girls would all be taken care of and wouldn’t have to be prostitutes anymore. He was damn close too before we found out he was the born King.” You mull over his words and keep walking closer towards your home. 

“How did he feel about becoming the born King?” you ask quietly. 

Tristan smiles, rubbing the snout of his horse affectionately. “He hated it. Didn’t want anything to do with the sword or being King. It wasn’t until he saw his friends being attacked, the Black Legs had us surrounded, outnumbered; there was no way we could win the fight. Arthur begged us to run away, that he was what they wanted, he was ready to die for us. Arthur embraced Excalibur and killed them all, saving us. He’s loyal to a fault that one. Then when Back Lack-” he takes a shuddering breath, and you reach out and rub his arm. 

“If it’s too painful, you don’t have to say.” He wipes at his eyes with his cloak and smiles at you. 

“No, I won’t let his memory fade because it makes me sad to talk about him. Back Lack was our friend, and Vortigern murdered him in front of his son and Arthur. Blue screamed, and I can still hear his wails in my head; Arthur took his son in and has become like a father to him.” You think of the young boy who follows behind the King and smiles. 

You reach the door of your cottage and put your hand on the knob, dropping your head to the door with a sigh. “What does he say about me?” you ask, turning to look at the Knight, “I know he’s must have told you why he is trying so hard to court me.” 

Tristan smiles, seeing the small crack in your cleverly crafted armor. “While you may not know the King at all, he knows everything about you. I dare say he’s in love with you.” 

You search his eyes for any lie and sigh, opening the door and stepping inside. “Wait here for a moment, please,” he nods, and you close the door behind you. Emerging a few moments later in one of your clean dresses and a light blue cloak of fine fabric the King had gifted you, too delicate for you to throw into the trash. “Take me to him, please,” you ask, pulling the cloak over your head. 

“Yes, my lady,” Tristan smiles, mounting his horse and reaching a hand out to pull you up behind him. He rides swift to the looming gates of the palace, and the heavy wooden doors creak as they’re pulled open. The hour is late, and there is only a handful of guards around watching you with a curious expression. You slide off the horse and follow closely behind Tristan as he weaves through the labyrinth of hallways before reaching a large door. He knocks out a combination, and Arthur’s voice comes from inside asking you to enter. 

Tristan stands back and gives your hand a squeeze, “good luck. I promise he’s worth it.” You smile, trembling, and give him a return squeeze. You watch his back retreat and take a deep breath before turning the handle. 

“Did she get home alright, Stick?” You follow his voice, stepping around the chair and looking down at him. He’s writing a letter, the quill moving across the page, a half-full glass of wine on the table to his left. “She didn’t see you, right? You know how much she detests having a guard.” 

“She didn’t make it home okay,” you say quietly, but he jumps anyways, looking up at you with wide eyes. “But she did find her way safely to you, my King.” He rises from his chair and stands tall beside you, gazing into your eyes, and for the first time, you see past the facade of the King he’s created and instead see the man, Arthur. 

“Are you well, my darling?” he asks, cupping your cheek; you close your eyes and lean into his touch. His smile is bright enough to rival the sun, and you smile back at him just as brightly. 

“I learned about you tonight, my King,” he furrows his brow, “Sir Tristan was telling me tales of how you became King.” 

He grins, “And what did he tell you?” He pulls away, pouring a second glass of wine and handing it to you. He takes your hand and leads you over to the roaring fire, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of it. You take a sip of the wine and put down the glass, climbing into his lap and putting your head against his shoulder. His hand comes up to wrap around your waist, keeping you snug to his side, putting down his glass of wine, and putting the other hand in your lap. 

You roll his fingers between your hands, feeling the callouses from years of fighting coarse against your skin. He leans his head against your own, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek. “He told me about you growing up in the brothel, how you protected those women, and their honor. He told me how you begged them to leave when the Black Legs came, and only when your friend’s lives were threatened did you finally wield Excalibur.” 

You sit up and look him deep in the pools of blue that are his eyes, lowering your voice to almost a whisper. “He also told me about Back Lack and Blue. How you’ve become like a father to him,” you trail off, looking down at his hand in your own, “he said you love me.” You look up and catch the storm in his expression, the showers of tears that threaten to fall as he’s reminded of his lost friend. 

You cup his cheek and brush your fingers beneath his eye collected them like diamonds. “He died because of me because I wasn’t able to protect him.” 

“It wasn’t your fault,” you whisper. He takes a shuddery breath, and you hold on to him with both hands, keeping his eyes on you. “You did the best you could; you are raising his son. He wouldn’t blame you for what happened.” 

He tugs you closer, and your foreheads touch, “he would have liked you,” he gives a watery chuckle. “He’d have loved your baking, the way you stand up for yourself, and call me out on my bullshit.” You laugh, and he leans closer, “Tristan was right.” 

“About what?” the ghost of his lips brushes yours, and you gasp at the touch. 

“I love you,” you pull back a little, “I love how strong you are, loyal, fierce, and fucking stunning. You are everything I could ever ask for, and I know I came on too strong. I pushed you away when all I wanted was to hold you close like this. From the moment I saw you, spoke to you, the moment you chucked a rolling pin at my head, I knew.” 

You cringe at one of the more colorful visits you had with the King. “What? What did you know?” 

“That you are much more than a baker.” He nuzzles his nose against your own, and you give a breathless reply, begging him to tell you what you are. His lips touch yours slowly, just barely touching, and your eyes slide closed, moving closer to him when he whispers, “you’re my Queen.” 

Taglist: @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @ghostwiththemostbitch @the-purity-pen @paintballkid711 @wasicskosgirl @fantasticcopeaglepasta @sarahjkl82-blog @boxdyeblonde @rosiefridayrogersunday @yeah-seems-legit  @mimimi-stuff  @ladyblogger-margie @memyselfandellasworld @peterhollandkait @itspdameronthings @emmy626 @luv-nd-serenity @randomness501  @littlebopper96 @alexmarie29 @hell-is-my-second-home666 @thisshipwillsail316 @madslorian @no-droids-on-sunday @glixxr @sfr99 @pedro-pastel @we-can-be-himbos  @sleep-tight1 @sarhabee @its--fandom--darling @im-an-adult-ish @princess76179 @demoncrypt1066@lunarthoughts @jedi-mando @idreamofboobear @aerolanya @rebelliouscat @veracruz-djarin @marvelprincess1994 @thirstworldproblemss @spacelatinoss  @martellthemandalor @kesskirata @waatermelon-sugaar @jitterbugs927 @helga1031  @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell

[hufflepuffhollander]

drive-in: tom holland one-shot

a/n | in honor of hitting 700 followers and also getting my real life heart broken and needing my unproblematic fictional boyfriend back, here’s an oldie from the drafts.✌🏻 enjoy kiddos

cw | language, angst, a lil smut, teasing banter, fluff! 1.5k words.

“Mmm, darling, let me at you,” Tom mumbled against your lips as you lightly squeezed his shoulders, his hands fidgeting with the hem of your shorts, trying to wriggle them down. Just as he’d made some progress, you heard a loud snicker on the other side of your door.

You pulled your face away from Tom’s and averted your gaze to the front of the room, where you could see two pairs of socks in the crevice between the floor and the door, standing on the other side. Without letting you dismantle from him, he grabbed the nearest pillow and flung it at the wall. “Fuck off, you pervs!” The kid-like chuckles coming from the socks continued.

The sudden interruption had killed the mood, so you just sat in Tom’s lap on his bed and laid your head against his chest, sighing. “Can’t they get a job?”

Tom combed a hand of fingers through your hair. “They do have jobs; they’re professional cockblocks.”

“And they need to work from home?”

“Everybody does, baby. We’re all stuck inside.”

“...right.”

You had to keep shifting around on Tom’s lap, uncomfortable from the sudden lack of pressure of his hands wandering over you. He had just gotten back from a press tour, you’d barely had any alone time with him since—and you were both getting pretty tired of not being able to rip each other’s clothes off like you’d wanted to since the moment he walked through the front door. Finally, you have a couple minutes to sneak away from the roommates you’re stuck quarantining with, and what do they do but follow you to Tom’s bedroom like absolute creeps. Creeps that seem to have a vendetta against you getting off. You’d spent too much time hanging out with them while Tom was gone, and now they were far too comfortable meddling in your personal life.

“How long do you think it’ll be til we’re actually alone again?” you asked, tracing over the freckles on his shoulders.

“I have no idea,” he sighed, falling back onto the pillows. “Who knows how long this will all last.”

“We might have to get pretty creative then, because I’m getting a little-”

“Thirsty?”

You smacked Tom’s arm as he giggled at you.

“I was going to say impatient.”

“So...horny.”

You pouted at him. “Can you blame me for missing you?”

He kissed your cheek and then your nose. “No, love, I missed you too. And if those idiots weren’t within earshot, I would’ve already had you screaming my name three times over by now.”

You kissed him back. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

Long, countless days went by, the two of you stuck inside with Harrison, Tuwaine and Harry, trying to find a balance between friend time and couple time but failing miserably. The boys had made a bet behind your back on how long they could go before hearing you and Tom having sex through the walls, and they took their gambling way too seriously. It had been too long.

Seeing an ad for a distanced drive-in movie night being hosted at a nearby park, you jumped on the opportunity, convincing Tom to come with just so you could get out of the house. The night finally came, and you flicked off the group of boys as they shouted after you for leaving the bubble, more than ready for a good old fashioned date night.

“They really do hate us,” you chuckled as you zoomed away.

“Nah, babe, they love us—they’re just jealous we didn’t invite them.” He placed his hand on your own and squeezed it, playing with your fingers for the extent of the drive to the park, just as excited as you to get some one-on-one time.

You cozied up in the backseat of the car with Tom, wrapped in fuzzy blankets you’d brought with and watching Titanic on the large screen set up in the grass in front of where you parked. You were intently focused on the movie, as it was one of your favorites, but Tom spent half the time looking at you, feeling you breathe, smiling at the top of your head nestled into his arms.

Up on the screen, Jack and Rose were in that carriage car on the boat, finally getting their big sex scene, starting to steam up the windows. You turned to Tom as you felt him laughing and shaking his head at the movie.

“What’s so funny?”

He pointed at the screen like the characters would be able to hear him. “So unrealistic, isn’t it?”

“Not really, people have sex in cars all the time.”

“No, no, I mean the windows. How did they get so foggy so fast? There’s no way that happens in real life.”

You were suddenly very interested in what Tom had to say and raised an eyebrow as you spoke. “Tom, have you never gotten laid in a car?”

You could see him turn pink with embarrassment through the light emanating off of the movie screen. “I have no comment.”

You nudged him and started to giggle. “Oh my god, you totally haven’t.”

He made an overly dramatic defensive expression at you. “And you have?”

“Actually, yes.”

Tom’s eyes widened a little as he saw where the conversation was headed. Maybe he’d brought it all up intentionally because he felt so deprived of your body, maybe not—but if he had, he was a damn genius, because it was working.

“And it does get that steamy, if you’re doing it right.”

“I guess I’d just have to see for myself.”

He’d barely finished his sentence before you climbed onto him and firmly planted your lips on his. It usually didn’t take much for him to get you excited, just his husky voice and the right lighting; you hadn’t realized until now how pent up you were.

“God, take your clothes off,” he huffed out, wasting no time in getting to work nipping over your skin as it was revealed.

“Charming,” you laughed, working your hands up his torso to get his shirt off too, Tom wincing as you did.

“Oooh, y/n, your hands are so cold!”

“Deal with it, Holland, I’ve waited too long to be stopped by cold hands.”

Tom was getting more riled up by the second, pushing you into the back of the driver’s seat behind you and speaking impossibly low in your ear. “I need you bad.”

“Take me then.”

You’d managed to get practically naked after doing some pretzeling in the backseat, Tom pulling you on top of him again. You tried to get into it but it didn’t last long—the seat was too close to your knees for you to get at a good angle, and you had to duck so your head didn’t hit the roof of the car.

“Okay, maybe lying down-?” Tom pushed your back into the seats, hovering on top and immediately sinking himself into you the moment he got the chance. You took a sharp inhale and already felt a dizzying high.

“God, finally...”

Tom took a few slow, heavy thrusts into you. “Missed you so much baby,” he leaned down to kiss you, your bodies already sticky with sweat from the heat in the car.

Tom suddenly stopped his rhythm and made a face, trying to shift himself around. “What’s wrong?” you asked, whining at the loss of him.

“I barely have room to move my legs,” he groaned, your fingernails still claws on his biceps, begging him to come back.

“Make it work? Just don’t stop fucking me, please,” you pulled his neck back down to bite his bottom lip, knowing that always drives him crazy.

“Fuck, I know, let me try something...” he found another sweet spot and was suddenly filling you up again, his flushed breaths and small mews making you smile underneath him. It wasn’t graceful, but you made it happen.

You came together as Jack and Rose professed their love for each other, making the romantic scene all too fitting. Tom moved to give you space to sit up, putting his face in his hands and sounding defeated. “Car sex looks a lot easier in the movies.”

You giggled at him and put your clothes back on before someone peeped into the now-clouded window. “Told you it gets steamy.”

Arriving back home later, Harrison and Harry sat at the kitchen table looking like two angry parents about to lecture their teenager on keeping curfew. They stared as you and Tom came in together with arms wrapped around each other, skin looking happily flushed, faces practically glowing.

“What’s got you two lovebirds so happy?” Harrison asked.

“Oh, it was just a really good movie,” Tom smiled, taking your hand and leading you back to his bedroom. “We’re wiped. Goodnight!” he promptly shut the door and laughed with you at Harrison���s puzzled face.

Harry walked over and peered down the hallway. “Goodnight? But it’s barely past sundown-”

Harrison patted him on the shoulder. “I’m afraid you might owe me a few quid, bud.”

Harry stayed confused. “Why?”

Tuwaine appeared from his room, pulling his gaming headphones aside to yell his reply down the hallway. “They fucked, you div!”

Harry connected the dots and looked like he was going to be sick. “Ugh, gross! That’s my brother!”

~

moots & taglist if y’all still exist:

@peterspideysstuff @duskholland @sinisterspidey @ladykxxx08 @bothlovinglyandhatingly @tinyyoungblood @harrisonsoceaneyes @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @we--are---not--afraid @danicarosaline @bunbun9396 @sad-thinker-over  @spideymoe @words-to-accomplish-something @thenoddingbunny-blog @iriaaarb @hellsdragon @cap-marvxl @tomshufflepuff @itstaskeen @writertoo18 @ethereal-beauty-p​ @sufwubi​ @quaksonhehe @biebsmylife95 @fermuda2 @dorbiksbitch @jejegu @holyfrickfracks @iconic-hes @parker-hollandx @keithseabrook27 @sovereignparker @mlmarint @bangtanfancamp @quacksonholland @cosagach @hedwigprewett12

[cyoc49]

HIMBO Magazine: Changing Departments

*click! click! click! click!*

Derek listened to the camera flash as he sat on the side of the bed. He was currently doing a photo shoot for HIMBO magazine, a fashion and lifestyle magazine “for the modern gay male™”. Fake blood dripped against his chest - they were doing some Halloween type of shoot. But let’s be honest, the blood wasn’t the focus of the shot: it was his body. Derek had never been the best student - and his attitude certainly didn’t help - but if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was make his body look as sexy as humanly possible. Derek scoured nutrition blogs to make sure he stayed up to date on everything related to fitness, and the dedication showed itself in his beautiful, sculpted body. Sitting here with no shirt on and wearing a pair of lethally tight skinny jeans, he looked like every gay man’s wet dream. To put it simply, Derek was hot as hell; problem is, he knew he was hot at hell.

“Alright, that’s good. I think we have what we need, thank you Mr. Hale” the director said. Derek stood up and two twinkish looking assistants came over to remove the blood. Derek stood still and tried to ignore the two obviously gay men putting their hands all over his body. Derek was the kind of guy who thought all gay men were jumping at the bit for any man they can find. Doing a photo shoot for a gay magazine was certainly not his dream, but hey: a paycheck is a paycheck.

After he was cleaned off, Derek put on a t shirt and enjoyed the feeing of it stretched tight against his pecs. He slung a Louis Vuitton backpack over his shoulders. All he had to do was collect his check and he could be done with this homo magazine. Derek headed towards the doorway connecting the studio space to the rest of the offices. He turned the corner into the hallway, only to immediately crash into someone coming from the opposite direction. Papers went flying.

Derek hesitated, then reluctantly crouched down to help the man pick up his papers. As he did, the man spoke to him in a deep voice “You know, you should really watch where you’re going. People are busy around here.”

This was the remark that set Derek off. It was enough that he had done a photo shoot outside his comfort zone, and ran into someone while he was leaving, but now he was being sassed by some worker who couldn’t slow down enough to watch out for passers. Derek had had enough of this magazine. “You know,” he said, “I’m surprised. I thought you fags would be more excited to slam into other guys.”

Derek could sense the shift in mood immediately. All the workers around him who had been buzzing about immediately stopped and looked at th scene. The office had gone dead silent. As Derek looked around at all the men staring at them, the man he had bumped into finished collecting his papers and stood up, allowing Derek to finally look at him properly. Woah, this was a fine looking man. Strappingly tall and ruggedly handsome. He filled out his expensive-looking three-piece suit perfectly. His whole demeanor was one of absolute confidence. Finally, Derek realized what had happened. He hadn’t bumped into some random employee. He had knocked over and subsequently cussed out the boss of the whole place.

*Well*, Derek said to himself, *I fucked up bad this time*.

The boss was surprisingly well-composed for someone who had just been called a slur, Derek thought. As if to prove this point, the boss suddenly started laughing. It was a good, deep laugh. And when he laughed, everyone else in the building laughed along with him. Derek stared at everyone in the office in confusion. Why did they find this so funny? Was it because he’s their boss? And they were all looking at the boss with such admiration. Derek just hoped this meant the issue would blow over and he could leave before embarrassing himself sooner.

But before he could step away, he was spoken to. “I used to get really angry when people said stuff like that to me,” the boss explained in a rich, inviting voice, “now it just makes me sad, because I see all the failed potential hiding behind that language.”

Derek took a little offense to that last statement, but he knew he was in no position to argue right now. It seemed like the laughter was the all-clear the rest of the office needed to know their boss was okay, because the normal hum of voices and keyboards had returned. Now it was just him and the extremely powerful man he had pissed off. Derek broke the silence. “Look, Mr...”

“Christian Le Maítre” the gorgeous boss informed him, “Editor in Chief of HIMBO magazine. But everyone around here just calls me Mr. M.”

“Right. Well, uh, Mr. M, I’m really sorry about-“

“No you’re not.” Christian cut him off without missing a beat. “I’ve seen so many models like you come and go through these halls. You think you’re hot shit, and take pity on all of my boys in this office who had to take desk jobs because their bodies weren’t nice enough to let them get by on looks alone. But you know, we’re hard workers here. And we’re a close knit family.”

Derek objected to being interrupted, but as Christian talked, he felt his defenses melt away with every word. Mr. M was right, Derek realized. I am a narcissistic asshole who holds myself above others. He had never felt like this before. But everything Mr. M said just seemed right. When this gorgeous, confident man spoke, Derek realized he was speaking the truth.

“What’s your name, son?” Mr. M asked him.

“D-Derek, sir. Derek Hale.” Derek was never one stutter, but how else could he feel right now?

“Well Derek, I’m sure our lame little office doesn’t fit your macho man swagger persona, but I think you’d find that working here is pretty great.”

Was that an offer? Derek didn’t know. He had completely forgotten the context of their conversation, and indeed his reason for being in this office in the first place was slowly becoming a distant memory. All Derek knew in this moment was that he HAD to work at HIMBO. In fact, he couldn’t imagine life without working here.

Derek tried to compose a response, but was increasingly timid in the presence of this incredible man. “Well, uh, Mr. M. Perhaps if you have any opening I might be able to, uh-”

Mr. M just laughed again, and this time Derek laughed right along with him.

“Well I’m shocked to hear you change your tune so quickly, but I can’t say I’m surprised. Working here is kind of a dream job, if I do say so myself. But there’s no need to submit your CV and go through the traditional channels. I am actually prepared to offer you a job on the spot.”

Derek felt his ears burning. How lucky was he! To be offered a job at the best company on earth. He would take it immediately!

“Mr. M, it would be an honor to work for you” Derek bowed his head as he said this. Respect was important, especially for the man who was giving him a job no questions asked.

“Glad to hear it, sport! Now full disclosure, it’s a clerking position. I know, not the most exciting stuff, but here at HIMBO we believe even the most mundane work can be made magical! Of course, you would have to change a few of your behaviors to *best* fit the position. Your ego, your hot-headedness. Do you think those are things good for a clerk to have?”

“No, sir” Derek said with convocation. “Anything you want me to change, I will change.”

Christian cracked a smile, as if Derek had said something unintentionally funny. “Well I admire your commitment. It’s just, clerks are so straight-laced and serious, and you are such a character, Derek. Mr. Macho Man with a great body. Actually, I do like this body.” Christian looked Derek up and down, “I think that can stay. But as for everything else, well, I can take care of that.”

Christian stopped talking and instead just looked at Derek. The hopeful employee stood there silently, unsure of what to do. Just then, he suddenly felt a draining feeling. It wasn’t his muscles or his IQ or any of that stuff that he felt fading away, it was more like he was losing... his personality? All the pride Derek felt over his hot body and great life was disappearing. All the anger he get towards people not like him, slipping away. But it wasn’t replaced by new emotions, it wasn’t replaced by anything. Derek stopped feeling strong feelings about much of anything. He liked his job, he followed the news, but he had never had any opinions of his own. Never tried to be individual or stand out. Derek was becoming like his new favorite flavor of ice cream: vanilla.

As Derek’s personality slowly morphed him into a contender for the World’s Most Dull Man, his wardrobe changed to follow suit. His designer t shirt loosened out a bit. The sleeves grew down his arms before spouting buttons and cuffs. Buttons also sprouted down the middle, and the shirt gained a collar, becoming a basic button-up shirt. A white plaid pattern spread across the shir. At the same time, Derek felt his skinny jeans go “pah” as all the tightness shrugged out of them, changing them into (gag) regular fit pants. They lightened to gray and changed material to thin cotton, becoming work slacks. His new plaid shirt automatically tucked itself into the pants, and a brown leather belt formed around his waist, with his expensive designer sneakers morphing into brown leather dress shoes to match. The LV backpack he wore fell as one of the straps broke off, before disappearing altogether. The remaining strap lengthened and slung itself over his shoulder, and the bag itself shifted into a basic messenger bag, holding plenty of important documents and paperwork.

For a brief moment, Derek felt confusion and fear. Why were these changes happening to him? Where did his nice stuff go, and what were these boring-ass clothes replacing them? These thoughts only lasted for half a second, before Derek realized how right this was. This was his style, or more accurately his *lack* of style. Derek had never cared about trends, or getting fancy new clothes. As long as they fit him well and looked professional enough for work, that was all that mattered in Derek’s eyes. A Ross Membership Card popped into his wallet to cement this change.

Derek felt something in his pocket, and pulled out a pair of black-rimmed glasses. These were the glasses he needed to see, of course. Derek opened them up and put them on. To follow suit, his hair parted itself to the side and became thick with gel holding his new professional haircut in place.

As promised, Christian had left Derek his body, but had taken basically everything else from him. Where there had once stood an arrogant, trendy mode, there was now a walking turtleneck. Normally in cases like this, Derek would sprout new memories of his new life. But no memories came, because Derek didn’t really *have* a life. He was now a total office drone. From 9-5 he worked faithfully for HIMBO, and after that he went home and solved jigsaw puzzles until it was time for bed... except on the nights where Mr. M invited Derek to his house. Derek truly wanted nothing more from life.

Christian smiled at the new corporate boy that stood before him. “Okay I think you’ve handled the onboarding process well, Dirk. Dirk, isn’t it?”

“Yes sir.” Dirk replied matter of factly. Dirk Kent. Filing clerk for HIMBO magazine.

“Great! But there’s actually one more thing I need from you. I’m still a little raw about that comment of yours earlier, and I would hate for it to taint our working relationship with each other, so allow me to bury this hatchet.”

Christian snapped his fingers, and Dirk felt his impressive manhood shrink, and shrink, and shrink, until he heard a “pop!” sound and knew that it was no more. Poor Dirk was smooth as could be in his private areas. But he didn’t mind: being unable to orgasm helped him focus on his work. And besides, if Mr. M needed help Dirk still had two perfectly serviceable holes on him.

Christian laughed again, eliciting another laugh from Dirk. “Dirk, pal, I don’t think I have ever been happier with one of my new hires. But you know, I do seal my deals with a kiss.”

“Why thank you sir!” Dirk replied with enthusiasm, as he allowed Christian to walk over, turn up his chin, and plant a kiss on his lips. And it was the greatest kiss Dirk had ever felt. Indeed, it was the only kiss he had ever felt, but as far as kisses go it was still pretty spectacular. As Dirk stood there with his lips pressed against those of his incredivle boss, he knew there was nothing more he would want from life.

As they parted, Derek looked hopefully up at his boss “Where should I start with my work, sir?” He lived to work.

Christian smiled again. “I’ll film you in on that in a minute, but let me take you to your desk. You’ll be down in the accounting department. In fact, I think you’ll be desk neighbors with our other new hire Bartholomew! You’ll love him. A total nerd but a sweet kid regardless.” Without warning, Christian turned and walked down the hall. He didn’t need to say anything. Dirk instinctively followed him, just as he instinctively obeyed every command Mr. M gave him. Life was easier that way.

[mikauzoran]

Just When I Thought Rose Couldn’t Get Cuter

I’m tired, so I don’t have too much commentary today, but can I just say how cute Rose is? Like, I didn’t think Rose could get any more precious, but she somehow managed it. XD

I feel where she’s coming from. I was diagnosed with Juvenile Diabetes a week shy of my fifteen birthday, and it’s really frustrating when people treat me like I’m breakable because of it. It’s like...treat me like I’m normal unless I am actively having a medical event. Kids who deal with chronic illness don’t want to be “the sick kid”. They just want to be kids and be able to do everything the other kids do. Kids who deal with chronic illness are tough. They have to deal with a lot on a daily basis that their friends don’t have to think twice about, and it’s nice sometimes just to forget for a bit and feel normal, so I totally understand Rose in this episode.

Anyway! Can I say how excited I am to see some Adrienette interaction?! I think this is the first time this Season. XD Look at them! They’re talking to one another!!! AH! (I notice Marinette’s not suppressing her crush anymore either.)

Also, look how tall baby boi has gotten. uwu He’s going through a growth spurt. I’m really pleased that they’re including that kind of detail. It makes me happy.

Adrien’s “sneaking posture” below also makes me happy. XD Adrien, you look silly. I refuse to believe that holding your arms like that makes you more stealthy.

So, since November I’ve been thinking about a story where Juleka gets upset and goes to hide on the roof, and Adrien finds her there and talks to her, and the scene below really reminded me of that fanfic idea. Maybe I’ll write it eventually.

But, seriously, Marinette..Love...the girl just said she wants to be alone. I know you’re trying to help, Sweetheart, but... ^.^; I wonder if it’s too loud in the boiler room for Marinette to have heard Juleka say she wants to be alone? Juleka does mumble. (Can I say how happy I am that my girl Juleka got some real lines this episode? I love it when she actually talks. I cannot wait for this episode in French because I love her voice! ^o^) I’m glad that having the class all come worked out and ended up helping.

I notice that Lila, Chloé, and Sabrina are pointedly excluded from the class bonding scenes. It’s an interesting, subtle choice on the part of the creators to visually show where the lines are drawn between the class in-group and out-group. 

The below scene got me because the thing Nino is feeling most guilty about right now is still how he can’t help Adrien stand up to Gabriel. Even though everyone else is fixating on stuff that just happened and is relevant to the current situation, Nino is thinking about how he feels like he’s failing his best bro. I cannot tell you how much I love Nino. Seriously, he’s one of the most undervalued characters of the show. Nino is MVP.

Okay, but serious talk time. Why is my baby boi trying to Cataclysm himself?! Writers! This is supposed to be a kids’ show! O.O I mean, I’ve always known that Adrien struggled with depression and self-worth issues underneath his optimism and resiliency, but...I was content to keep it in the fanfiction. I’m seriously worried about this kid. Someone give him a hug. NOW.

In other news, Daizzi is baby, Your Honor. She(?) is so absolutely precious. I love her! And she officially has the cutest name of all the kwamis. I was pronouncing it “dai” like the Japanese pronunciation. “Daisy” makes more sense. It’s adorable. ^w^

You know who else is adorable? Pigella. I lover her costume. She’s like a real Japanese magical girl. I love the aesthetic, even though pink isn’t really my vibe. She looks like that one character from Sailor Moon. (I read the manga a couple years ago, but the anime was before my time, so I’m blanking on her name. ^.^; Sorry to all of the Sailor Moon fans I’ve just disappointed.) You know. The little, pink one that wasn’t one of the planets. The outfits look similar to me, at least. The hair reminds me of Usagi. It’s a good look on Rose.

Her Miraculous is gorgeous too. Like, that’s a realistic piece of jewelry that I would actually wear. XD (The ring, earrings, and butterfly broach are pretty normal too, but the rest of them are kind of out there as far as everyday wear goes. Maybe the glasses would be fine.)

Anyway. I’m super proud of Rose. Her optimism and kindheartedness saved the day. ^w^

I’m not sure how I feel about the ending scene, though, when Adrien teases Chloé. It feels like the class is laughing /at/ her, and he’s on their “side”. I’m wondering what developments their friendship has undergone this season that we’ve missed due to the out of order episodes. Maybe I’m misunderstanding the tone of his voice because my understanding of Portuguese is limited. Maybe it’s harmless and they’re still friends. It would make me really sad if Chloé didn’t have anyone left on her side...though, it’s pretty obvious that she still has Sabrina. I’m not sure how long that will last with how Chloé treats her. 

Someone said “It’s true” after Adrien said that when Chloé said things like that she was never kidding. I’m not familiar with the Portuguese voices, so I’m not sure who that was. Maybe that was Chloé agreeing and it was all in good fun. I don’t know. Her body language looked closed off and defensive. :/

But to end on a happy note, look at Adrien’s pose. He’s such a model. XD I don’t think he knows how to turn it off in public.

I was kind of anxious about this episode because JuleRose is my secondary canon ship, and I get antsy when canon touches my ships. I was afraid Rose and Juleka were going to have a fight, but it turned out that it was just a misunderstanding and my ship was strong throughout. ^w^ Long live JuleRose!