#it was on sale so I was playing it none stop

[kitnightowl]

I posted this on my Twitter but I thought I share it over here too, since most of my mutuals hang around here the most.

[mead-iocre]

FIFA | Leah Williamson x Reader

synopsis: you play FIFA

warnings: none. just fluff x

wc: 1.7k words

The late afternoon light filtered through the sheer linen curtains, casting a warm golden glow across the living room. You sat curled up on the couch, legs draped over Leah’s lap, idly scrolling through your phone. The rhythmic clicking of the Xbox controller’s buttons was the only sound filling the room, a counterpoint to the quiet hum of the outside world.

All of a sudden, the clicking of the controller stopped. Leah nudged your leg, palm wrapping around one thigh and squeezing. “Hey, baby” she said, her voice light with a hint of something else. “Wanna do something fun?”

You look away from your phone, arching one perfectly groomed eyebrow. Leah took a moment to admire you, dressed in your favourite Izaak Azanei pink shearling cuff button cardigan with the matching leggings. Leave it to you to be overdressed, even in the comfort of your own home. 

“What do you have in mind?” you asked, letting her phone drop onto the sofa beside her. You were intrigued now.

“I was thinking…FIFA,” The blonde said with a shrug, pushing her hair back as it falls over eyes. Her bangs haven't grown out just yet.

You blink up at her, slightly caught off guard. You had never shown the slightest interest in football or video games. You could barely remember the rules, let alone the offside rule.

But one thing about you, you were just as competitive as your professional footballer girlfriend– if not even more.

“FIFA...?” you ponder over it for a moment. You were never one to back down from a challenge-- even football. “Okay, you’ve got my attention. Let’s play.”

The big smile that took over Leah’s face could’ve blinded a man.

She squeezed the leg that was still draped over her lap, and grabbed the second controller that was conveniently left on the coffee table. She hands it to you, grinning when your hands awkwardly fumble around with the buttons. 

Her competitive girl.

Rosy tinted lips settled into a pout, sweet wrinkles form across the middle of your forehead as you study the device in your hands. “Lee–” A huff leaves your lips. “…how does this even work?”

Leah chuckled softly, leaning in to adjust your grip. Her fingers brushed skin. “Okay, first things first. You use the left stick to move your player,” Leah said, her voice gentle but firm. “Try it. Push it to the left.”

Your brows furrowed, lips curling in confusion as you nudged the left stick to the side. On screen, the character shuffled a few steps, the motion awkward and unsure, much like you when you went to your first couple of football matches. “I’m– uh, not sure if I’m doing it right,” 

Leah’s lips quirked into a soft smile as she leaned a little closer, unable to stop herself from touching you somehow. She lets go of one side of the controller and instead drapes it over your shoulder, fingers rubbing the little bit of exposed skin by her hip. “That’s good. You’re doing great, baby. Here, let me show ya.” Leah gently took your hand, guiding your fingers to the controller so you were holding it more comfortably.

“Like this,” Leah murmured, moving the stick smoothly, making the player glide across the pitch. “See? Just a gentle nudge.”

You watched, captivated not by the moving avatar on the screen who looks eerily similar to Viv, but by the blonde shuffling closer beside you. After a year of dating, you should be used to this, but you weren't. Your heart still squeezed when you look at her.

It's almost ike when your Hermes sales associate pulled out your new Hermes Birkin 30 in Mauve Sylvestre Bag with Epsom Palladium Hardware.

Almost.

“Okay, I think I got it.” You pushed the stick forward a little more confidently this time. Your player jogged across the pitch—clumsy, but moving.

“There you go, baby” Leah praised, her eyes on you, soft with affection. “Now, let’s pass the ball.” She pointed to the ‘A’ button on the controller. “Press this to pass it. Lightly, okay?”

You pressed the button, and the ball rolled a few feet—straight to the opposing team.

Leah laughed in pure, utmost affection. You couldn’t help but admire the curve of her neck and the way her soft tendrils of her hair brushed against her cheek as her eyes met yours again. They were like crescent moons and you love the way her cheeks flush slightly the more she laughs.

One hand slides in between your knees, affectionately squeezing your inner thigh. “Okay, that was... a bit too light. But you’re getting there, baby”

You bite your lip, shy now, tasting your favourite Summer Fridays lipgloss. “I swear I’m trying,” you pout but nevertheless straightening your back to lock back in. “This is harder than it looks.”

The blonde just smiles a secret smile. The scent dewy sweetness of pink peony and fresh lily of the valley mingling with the soft, delicate rosy smell of your hair. You feel her press a kiss against the crown of your head, her lips moving against your hair as her jokes “It’s okay, baby. Sometimes I pass it to the opposing team too”

Too soon.

You recall the last game where Leah accidentally kicked the ball to an opposing player and nearly assisted an equaliser. Luckily, the goal was saved.

You gasp playfully, looking up at her only to be met with her pretty blues. The skin around the corner of her eyes crinkle as she laughs with you. Leah’s ability to not take herself so seriously is one of your favourite things about her. 

Turning back to the screen, you tighten your hands around the controller. “I think I might be terrible at this.”

“You’re not terrible,” Leah insists. “You’re learning. And that’s what matters.”

After a few more attempts, you finally managed to pass the ball with some semblance of control, sending it to your own teammate. “Look, I did it!” you bellow, your voice filled with genuine pride. Stacks of Tiffany and Van Cleef bracelets jingle and jangle as you pump a fist in the air. 

It was like when you scored your rare Dior Metallic Lambskin and Rose des Vents Satin bag– but without having to swipe a card.

You press the right buttons, watching as your avatar on screen kicks the ball up the pitch. “That’s what I’m talking about! What a pass, baby!” Leah turns to you, throwing her arms in the air, before leaning in to give you a sweet kiss. When she pulls away, a shiny sheen of your lipgloss is left on her own lips.

She doesn’t wipe it off. 

You grinned at her, fully locked in now. You rolled up your pink shearling cuff sleeves up your arms, because this was serious now. “Okay, now let’s see if I can actually score a goal.”

“Woah– okay, Messi. Lets see how you get dribbling first”

Reaching into the pocket of your pink joggers, you pull out your Summer Friday lipgloss, swiping it over your lips a few times. Leah just watches you with a small smile, your lip gloss still lingering on her bottom lip. You twist the lipgloss lid closed, pressing your lips together. “I can do this. Watch me.”

The Arsenal defender took that as her queue to sit back and observe as you focused back on the screen. The intensity in your gaze was almost palpable, and for a moment, Leah found herself mesmerised not by the game on the screen, but by you.

You pressed the ‘B’ button with a confident flick of your thumb, and watched as the ball sailed through the air—past the defenders, past the keeper—and into the net.

You gasped as the words– GOAL!– flashes on screen, eyes widening in disbelief. “Did I- did I just score?”

Leah was stunning. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to make sense of what her girlfriend just did. “You... you did,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, awestruck. “You scored, baby. What a bloody good goal.”

Turning to her you gasp wide, sparkling eyes, lips parting in shock. Your curls bounce as you turn back to screen– wanting to make sure it was real– and then back to your girlfriend. “I... I really did? Oh my god--”

You squeal, jumping up from the sofa and clapping your hands. A breathless laugh escapes your lips as you twirl around in pure, unfiltered joy. Your eyes sparkle, cheeks flushed rosy with the thrill of victory, raising your arms raised in mock triumph. “I’m a footballer!” 

“Okay- okay don’t come for my job just yet” Leah reaches over, gently snagging your wrist and pulling you into her arms. You melt into her willingly, the controller slipping from your grasp as you both collapse into a tangle of laughter and affection, bodies close. The victory feels sweeter, somehow, in the warmth of her embrace.

“Told ya you could do it” Leah murmurs, pressing a kiss against your forehead. 

You laughed, burying your face into her chest, the familiar smell of her hoodie washing over you. “Yeah, well, maybe I’m not completely terrible at it.”

“I think you’re more than just ‘not terrible.’” Leah snuggles you closer to her, a hand sneakily creeping underneath your top. When did that happen, you have no idea. Unable to help it, you shiver slightly at the feel of her nails dancing across your back.

And of course she notices.

Her voice is low, teasing. “You’re kind of a pro, actually”

"Alexia Putellas better watch out" You say, haughtily. Your taunt is rewarded with her raspy laugh. She nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck, leaving a kiss on the spot where you neck meets your collarbone. "I'm coming for that Ballon Dior"

“Ballon D’or, baby– not Dior”

You look at her, the love of your life. Her pretty blue eyes, bright as they stare at you. She's got a small smile, head tilted slightly as her eyes roam your face. You blush at the intensity of her gaze, still not familiar to the privilege of getting to look at her every single day.

Leah pulls you to her so you're laying over her chest. You snuggle closer, bringing your knees up, and making yourself comfortable. "You should get one.."

An eyebrow raise. She presses her lips together, holding in a laugh. "Wha-- a Ballon D'or? Bit hard to do as a defender, love"

"No," You roll your eyes, petulantly. You shake your head. The soft swish of your hair moves, a playful flutter through your locks thanks to your freshly blow-out. "a Dior"

Leah laughs. The kind of laugh where she throws her head back, crinkles form by the corner of her eyes, and her entire body contorts, uninhibited, because of you. It’s the curve of her neck, the subtle arch of their brow, the way her breath catches just before another laugh bursts free.

"C'mere" Her hand grasps the side of your neck, squeezing it gently, a few lingering chuckles leave her lips. She pulls you closer, pecking your lips once, then twice.

"I’ll get you your Ballon Dior"

back on my spoiled!reader x leah bs. she's just a girl (wants her Ballon Dior)

thank you to the anon who sent the request <333 i hope you love it even if i changed it a lil bit <333

・❥・- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[limethefirst]

I've been reading all your recent Shadow fics and they're all SO CUTE!!! It makes me so happy to see where Shadow sort of gets to have a second chance with a new Maria, one where he can keep them safe. I was wondering though, how do you think he would react if they dyed red streaks into their hair to look like him?

Red Hair Dye

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

warnings: none

summary: after a trip to the store you see a hair dye that reminds you of your favorite little hedgehog

a/n: hey guys sorry i was gone this week, school started back up so slow updates and i just went through a break up so just taking things slow, here's your request tysm for your patience! (This reminds me of when I had pink highlights 😭)

The store was quiet, it was late so it wasn't very strange. You walked through the aisles, looking at all its contents. It was a small corner store no more then a 3 minute walk from your place. Light jazz music played as beeping of machines echoed through the front of the store.

You stopped in the hair dye section, taking a look at all the colors, thinking which one you liked best, not that you were sure you were even going to dye your hair. Until you spotted it, a crimson red hair dye that looked like it was on sale.

Pausing, you stared at it a bit before ultimately picking it up. You looked at the brand, knowing it was a trust worthy one when it came to hair damage and color, so without a second thought you quickly shoved it into your basket before continuing to browse a bit more.

The trip was short lived and quickly you found yourself rushing to your bathroom, excited to try the new color you'd bought. Shadow was somewhere about but didn't seem to try and find you, seemingly hearing your rush to reach the bathroom, almost paying no mind to it.

Opening the box you grabbed everything inside, basically dumping it out onto your sink as you sorted through it. The instructions were simple, so you just went with the flow, prepping your hair and sectioning it the way you wanted.

After your hair was ready, you started to mix some of the paint, making sure to add the right amount of color so that it would be bright enough on your hair. After a bit of mixing you grabbed the small brush that came in the box, as well as the gloves. You slipped the gloves on slowly and started to apply the red.

It was a tiring process, taking you over 20 minutes to finally finish. By that point your arms were tired from being held up so long. Swiftly you exhaled and sat down against the wall, making sure your hair wasn't messed up.

A small knock interrupted your waiting. You slightly opened the door, not realizing how strong the smell of paint truly was, as the hedgehog took a quick step back, his nose scrunching.

"What are you doing?" He asked, arms crossed, not being able to fully see you as you hid behind the door, wanting to keep the hair a surprise.

You let out a small chuckle before playfully responding, "It's a secret," Shadow just gave a small sigh, knowing you wouldn't tell him till later with that type of answer.

"Don't take long then" Shadow said before turning away, probably going to go sit in your room, although he'd never say it he found comfort around you more then he did most. It was nice to be special.

You closed the door quickly, and sat in the bathroom a bit longer, waiting at least 30 minutes so that the dye would set. Shadow found it a bit annoying at how long you were taking and he was very curious as to what exactly that smell was, it was like chemicals. Maybe you were cleaning, but the more Shadow thought the more he knew it would not be cleaning.

You took a quick shower, the water was cold to make sure not a lot of dye left your hair. Once you were done the bathroom was a red mess that you'd hope would be able to come off later.

Drying yourself and changing you put on some of the lasting products in the box which were supposed to make the dye last longer as you fixed your hair, excited to show Shadow the result.

Walking towards your room you found Shadow on the edge of your bed, his arms still crossed and his posture straight as he kept his gaze steady on the novela in front of him. His eyes quickly changed over to you as he saw you enter, the first thing that caught his attention though was your hair.

It looked like you had red highlights in your hair, he was shocked to see your new look.

"I thought we could match!" You cheerfully said making your way over to him as he saw bits of red.

He let out a small huff of approval, "It looks nice," He now stood up, as you sat on the ground taking in the sight.

"So you like the emo highlights?" You jokingly asked him, knowing how Sonic and his friends had called him the emo hedgehog before.

Shadow just gave you a straight face before walking past you and out your door.

Quickly you sprung to your feet, apologizing as you followed him out, "I was kidding come back!"

[wandascosmic]

get your humor like i do (3)

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

part three of 'you belong with me' series

summary: basically a wanda series inspired by jim and pam from the office

word count: 2871

tags: best friends to lovers, reader being completely in love with wanda, wanda's an oblivious best friend, i might mean oblivious to her own feelings as well but who knows, both of them being complete dorks, reader messing with sam with wanda as her pranking accomplice

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9

“Last night, on trading spouses,” you told Wanda enthusiastically, leaning over her desk on your elbows. 

“Uh huh,” Wanda nods, chewing on the end of her pen as she listens to your story with a smile. 

“There was- oh, wait, have you seen it?” a look of realization comes across your face. 

“No, actually, I have a life,” Wanda jokingly responds. 

You laugh, “Interesting,” you played along, “What’s that like?” 

“Fun, you should try it sometime,” Wanda quips back. 

“Wow,” you said thoughtfully, staring off with a wistful look in your eye. “But then who would watch my TV?” you remark. 

Wanda laughed agreeingly as she looked up at you from her chair. 

“That’s sort of like a win-lose-” you continue until Tony’s voice interrupted your sentence.  

“Y/N, can I see you for a minute please?” 

Giving your favorite receptionist an apologetic look, you nod before following your boss into his office.

Wanda frowns slightly, sighing as she picks up her phone and gets back to work. 

***

“I need you to help me decide on which healthcare plan the office should be on, then explain it to the rest of the office,” Tony says to you as you sit across from him at his desk, handing you the large stack of papers with the various healthcare plan options. 

You nod slightly, “Wow, this is a great offer,” you point out, truthfully not believing your lie for a second. 

“I’m glad you see it that way,” Tony replies with disinterest. 

“But Tony, I really think I should be concentrating on sales,” you told him, holding back a smile at your plan. “I just don’t think this is a task that I’m well-equipped for, but I do know someone who is.” 

“Wow, who’s that?” Tony answers monotonely. 

“I think Sam would be great for this. You know, he’s smart, hardworking-” you sell your idea. 

“Sure, yeah, whatever, go get him then,” Tony cuts you off.  

You nod in agreement, smiling as you walk out of Tony’s office. 

Sam was such a sucker. 

***

“You did it again,” Wanda remarks, seeing Sam sitting in Tony’s office through the window, excitedly taking the papers Tony handed him. 

“I did,” you admit, smiling at her as you're back at her desk once more. 

“I can’t believe that actually works every time,” she says with a laugh. 

You shrug. “Sam’s such a suckup that he’ll do anything to get on Tony’s good side. So, naturally, in his good nature he should be glad to do any task Tony gives him. Even the ones he gave to me first,” you say smugly, popping a candy from the dish at her desk into your mouth.  

“You’re quite devious,” Wanda teases. 

“All in a day’s work, Maximoff,” you reply with a grin. 

***

Sam has fucked up awfully. You suppose it's no surprise since Sam has a limited understanding of natural human needs, however, his healthcare plan is basically as cheap as a gas station slushie. Everyone in the office is completely outraged.

You and Wanda have decided to attempt to convince Sam to fix his plan, as the health care coverage he’s chosen is basically second to none. 

“Sam,” Wanda says as she opens the door to the conference room with you following behind her with your hands in your pockets. 

“Wanda, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?! This is an office,” Sam says exasperated from the table he’s sitting at with papers scattered all over as you and Wanda stop to stand in front of him. 

“It says workspace,” you point out, nudging your head toward the sign on the door, knowing Sam had argued toward the title of office, but Tony had told him no. 

“Same thing,” Sam argues, reading over the papers. 

“If it’s the same thing, then why did you write ‘workspace’?” you ask with curiosity.

“Just knock, Y/N,” Sam says frustrated. “It’s a sign of respect, and as your superior, I deserve that respect.” 

“You’re not my superior,” you retort.

“Ok, well, then why do I have an office?” 

You tilt your head slightly. “I thought it was a workspace, Sam?” 

“Okay!” Wanda interrupts, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Sam, are you really in charge of picking the healthcare plan?” she asks the worker in front of her, crossing her arms over her button-up shirt. 

“Yes, and my decision is final,” he responds with assertiveness.

“This is a ridiculously awful plan, Sam, you cut everything,” Wanda explains to him, her worry increasing at the fact that it might as well be considered as having basically no health care coverage whatsoever. You rub your hand slightly across her back, noticing the slight furrow in her brows indicating the fact that she’s worried. 

Sam pouts in fake pity, ignoring the scene in front of him. “Well, times are tough, Wanda. Might as well get used to it.” 

You narrow your eyes, his dig at Wanda irritating you slightly. “You cut more than you had to, didn’t you?” you cut in, knowing Sam’s lack of sympathy for anything related to the human race. 

“Sure,” Sam shrugs without care. 

“Well, why did you do that?” you ask, not understanding why he wouldn’t want health care coverage for himself as well. “You work here, Sam, don’t you want good insurance?” 

Sam scoffs. “I don’t need it, Y/N,” he says obviously. “I’ve never been sick. I have a perfect immune system.”  

You and Wanda look at each other in uncertainty. “Okay, well if you’ve never been sick, then you don’t have any antibodies,” you explain to him.  

“I don’t need them. I have superior genes, I’m a Wilson. And on top of that, I have superior brain power. With extreme concentration, I can raise and lower my cholesterol at will,” he argues.

“Why would you want to raise your cholesterol?” Wanda asks, looking at Sam warily. 

“So I can lower it, obviously.” 

***

“Everyone, gather around,” Sam announces, stepping out of the conference room, looking frustrated. 

You swivel around in your chair to face him, ready for whatever irritating thing will come out of his mouth this time. 

“It has been brought to my attention that some of you are unhappy with my plan,” he says, his annoyance seeping through. “So what I’d like you all to do, is to fill out this form and write down any diseases you might be suffering from that you would like covered, and I’ll see what I can do, since you people are weak enough to get sick.” 

You raise your hand, a clear issue in his plan sticking out to you. “Sam,” you cut in, and he looks at you irritated. “Well, we can’t write down our diseases for you because that’s confidential.” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “Okay, well, I didn’t say to write your name down, did I?” he answers sarcastically. “You can fill it out, and leave it anonymous. Or, don’t write down any disease at all, and it won’t be covered. “Sam slams the forms on the shelf next to the wall. “Alright, I’ll be in my office.” He retreats back into the conference room. 

“Workspace,” you remind him. 

Sam slams the door closed. 

***

You stand at Wanda’s desk, the two of you filling out your forms together in silence. 

Looking over at Wanda, you notice her biting back a smile as she fills out her form. 

“Wait, what are you writing?” you ask with curiosity. 

She looks up at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

“Don’t write ‘Ebola’, or ‘mad cow disease’,” you tell her, her smile faltering slightly. “‘Cause I’m suffering from both of them,” you grin, showing her your paper. 

Wanda laughs. “I’m inventing new diseases,” she reveals. 

“Oh, great,” you lean further over her desk, intrigued. 

“So, like, let’s say my teeth turn to liquid,” she describes. “And then, they drip down the back of my throat, what would you call that?” 

“I thought you said you were inventing new diseases, Maximoff,” you wave your hand in an obvious gesture. “That’s spontaneous dento-hydroplosion,” you describe with a smile. 

Wanda looks at you, impressed. “Nice,” she states. 

“Thank you,” you respond, smiling as you watch her write down the fake disease excitedly. 

***

“Y/N!” Sam growls from the conference room, rushing out the door. “All right, who did this?” he yells, holding up the forms.  

“What are you talking about?” you ask with a tilt of your head, still standing at Wanda’s desk. 

“Someone here forged medical information, and that is a felony,” Sam accuses, narrowing his eyes at every one of the office staff. . 

“Whoa, that’s a pretty serious accusation there, Sam,” you warn, holding up both your hands in fake surrender. “How do you know that they’re fake?” you ask him. 

“It’s obvious, Y/N,” Sam retorts. Reading out the diseases, he lists, “These hysterical diseases like, flesh-eating bacteria.” You snort.  “Hot dog fingers.” 

“Wow, that sounds awful,” you whisper quietly to Wanda who snickers at your dig.  

“And my least favorite,” Sam reads out. “Government-created killer nano-robot infection.” 

Wanda looks up at you cheekily, and you widen your eyes, impressed. 

“You did this, didn’t you?” Sam accuses you, as you turn back around, narrowing his eyes. 

“Absolutely not,” you answer calmly. 

“Yes, you did.” 

“No, I didn’t.” 

“I know it was you,” Sam argues. “Okay, you know what,” Sam says frustrated. “I’m going to have to interview each and every one of you until the perpetrator makes him or herself known. And until then,” he pauses. “There will be absolutely no healthcare coverage for anyone!” Sam yells out, retreating back into his workspace and slamming down the papers in anger. 

Holding in your smile, you ask, “Killer nano-robots?” you inquire to the receptionist in front of you. 

“It’s an epidemic,” Wanda shrugs with a playful glint in her eyes, smiling at you.

You shake your head in amusement.  

***

“The problem, Y/N,” Sam starts. 

“Mhm,” you acknowledge, sitting across from him in the conference room. 

“Is that the people who are really suffering from a medical condition won’t receive the care they need, because someone in this office is coming up with all this ridiculous stuff.” He picks up a form. 

You listen with fake intrigue. 

“For example, Count Choculitis,” he reads out. 

You whistle. “Sounds tough.” 

“Why did you write that down, Y/N? Is it because you know I love Count Chocula?” he says with seriousness. 

“Do you?” you ask. 

“I think you need to confess,” he explains.  

“Mhm,” you nod, standing up out of your chair. 

“The fact-” 

“Yup.” You grab his keys from his desk. 

“What are you doing?” he asks in confusion. 

“What?” you ask, as you open the door and walk out. 

“Those are my keys, Y/N,” he tells you, slowly standing up out of his chair. 

“Good luck,” you tell him, starting to close the door on him. 

“Y/N!” he sprints after you, the door closing before he can stop it from closing. “Damn it!” he slams his palms on the door window in frustration.   

Locking the door completely, you hold the keys by their key ring to taunt him, then smile as you throw them behind your back where they land across the room. 

“Let me out!” he bangs on the door. 

“No, I don’t think I will,” you retort, plopping yourself down at your desk as you can’t stop the shit-eating grin on your face. 

***

You smirk as your phone starts to ring. 

“Y/N L/N,” you say mockingly as you answer. 

“Let me out,” Sam says immediately through the phone. 

“Who is this?” you reply, swiveling around in your chair to face him as he glares daggers at you. 

“Let me out or you’re fired,” he fights back. 

“No, you can’t fire me,” you say as you turn back around, putting your feet up on the desk. 

“Yes, I can, I’m the manager for the day,” he retorts. 

“Mhm,” you nod, not believing him for a second. 

“Clean out your desk,” he continues. 

“Ok.”you reply, when suddenly,  your phone rings again. “Can you hold on one second?” you tell Sam as if you’re speaking to a customer. “I’m getting a, uh, beep.” 

“No, don’t you dare put me on hold!” Sam shouts. 

You ignore him, answering the incoming call. “Y/N L/N,” you introduce. 

“Hey, Y/N, it’s Wanda,” you hear the smile in her voice. 

“Hey, Wanda!” you say enthusiastically,  “How are ya?” Wanda playing pranks with you was a long-time tradition in your friendship, and it was something you treasured very close to your heart. Plus, it made you fall in love with her even more every time. 

Sam bangs on the door, interrupting your train of thought. “For god’s sake, Y/N, open the door!” he shouts from the conference room. 

You ignore him, continuing your conversation with Wanda. 

“I’m doing good, how are you?” Wanda answers, watching you with a grin on her face. Playing pranks with you was probably one of her favorite things in the world. 

“I’m doing ok,” you respond through the phone. “Getting excited for the weekend though.” 

“Yeah, same, oh, I’m not bothering you, am I?” Wanda asks, biting her fist to hold in her laughter. 

“No, not at all!” You reassure, turning your chair to look over at Wanda as she looks back at you with her glistening smile. 

“No? You don’t have anything you’re doing?” she says mischievously. 

“I have absolutely nothing to do,” you shake your head. 

“Y/N! Sam yells from the conference room, banging on the door once more. 

“Yeah, no, this weekend, I’ve got nothing,” Wanda says on the phone with you. “I’m not really doing anything.” 

“Y/N!” Sam shouts again. “Stop flirting with Wanda and let me out!” 

“Might go to the mall,” Wanda continues. 

“The mall,” you repeat. 

“I need new shoes,” she tells you. 

“Oh, interesting, what kind of shoes?” 

Wanda finally breaks as she laughs. 

You smile, wanting to mess with Sam a bit more both for your entertainment and Wanda’s, you hold up your eraser to show her and she nods as she knows what you’re about to do. Turning around, you show Sam the eraser as well, then throw it directly at the window where he’s standing with fury in his eyes. 

“I tried being rational!” Sam shouts at you. 

***

“Tony, why did you leave Sam in charge of the healthcare plan?” Nat asks Tony, as he steps out of his office, the rest of the workers surrounding their boss in a circle. 

“What did he do?” Tony asks disinterestedly, reading over the magazine in his hands. . 

“His plan is awful, it’s basically a pay decrease,” Bruce explains to him. 

Seeing Sam walk out of his workspace as he finally unlocks the conference room door after trying to pick it for an hour, the workers start to shout at hiim in frustration. 

“Sam, what did you do?” Tony interrupts. “Didn’t you raise benefits?” 

“I most certainly did not,” Sam retorts, crossing his arms and glaring back at everyone who looks at him in anger. 

Tony sighs, exasperated. “I should’ve never let you do this,” he puts his head in his hand.  “Alright, everyone, go home, it’s after 5, I’ll call corporate and have this fixed by the end of tomorrow.” 

The workers mutter their distaste for the awful day they’ve had, starting to scatter and pack up their things.  

“This isn’t over,” Sam tells you as you and him both pack up your things at your desks. 

“Can’t wait, Sam,” you smirk at him as he scoffs back, bumping into your shoulder as he starts to walk out with his briefcase in his hand. 

***

After packing your messenger bag, you run up to Wanda’s desk, drumming your fingers on the ledge as you ask her if she would like to walk out with you. 

“Sorry, Y/N,” Wanda apologizes. “Vision’s on his way up now to pick me up so we can leave together.” 

“Oh, okay, no problem,” you assure, your heart slightly deflating as you hear about her fiance once more. 

“Thanks,” Wanda smiles.  

“Yeah, you too,” you respond. “Hey, uh, that was great, how you helped me out with messing with Sam.”

Wanda laughs. “Yeah, that was fun. You really got him today, it was awesome.” 

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without you,” you tell her with a soft smile. 

Wanda looks at you with affection, and you stare back at her, admiring the infinite green swirls in her eyes. 

Clearing your throat you say, “So, um, I should probably head out.” You point to the door behind you. 

“Oh, yeah,” Wanda nods with realization. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

“You too, Maximoff,” you bid her goodbye with a wave. 

Closing the door behind you as you step out of the office, you sigh at the day you’ve had, chuckling slightly at how you messed with Sam. 

As you descend the flight of stairs to walk out to your car, a small smile makes its way across your face at the thought of a certain green-eyed brunette who always managed to brighten your day with just a simple look.

part 4

[buckrecs]

Hi!! Was wondering if you had recs for Bucky and reader fake dating??

Fake Dating / Marriage

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

Keeping Score by @all1e23

After hearing you begging Steve to pretend to be your fake boyfriend to keep your family off your back, Bucky quickly jumps at the chance to play your boyfriend even though you’re a hundred percent sure he hates you. What could possibly go wrong?

the right partner by @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky have always possessed a complicated history, and even more strained relationship with one another. Begrudgingly, you're sent out on a mission with Barnes where you two are posing as a newly wed couple. In an effort to investigate the consistent disappearance of young women in a certain neighborhood, you find yourselves forced to confront a whirlwind of emotions.

Suburbia by @wkemeup

Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.

where do we go from here by @barnesafterglow

when you agree to be bucky's date for his sister's wedding - and his fake girlfriend for the weekend - you're expecting a good time with your best friend. but things may never go back to normal

Fake It Till You Make It by @buckyalpine

Fake dating solves everything… right?

A Little Longer by @buckyalpine

It’s just a little lie.

Crossing The Line by @jadedvibes

After your friends set you up on a blind date with your sworn enemy, you both drunkenly decide to mess with them by making a bet to see who can pretend to be a happy couple the longest.

annoying neighbors and fake boyfriends | 2 by @lovelybarnes

“You stayed over at my place one night but my nosy, annoying neighbour saw you leave. They always get on my case about being single so I told them that we’re dating to show them”

Undercover by @buckysknifecollection

You and Bucky go on an undercover mission, where you need to pretend to be married. You are close to solving the case when Bucky decides he’s done pretending.

Make Believe on Christmas Eve by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction

When your family insists you bring your [nonexistent] long-term boyfriend over for Christmas, you panic. You hadn’t expected to be put in this situation; you never thought you’d actually have to bring “him” over.

Stop flirting with the staff by @writingsoftheloser

You and Bucky go undercover to stop the sale of a very important device.

The Karen’s of the World by @espinosaurusrexex

Aunt Karen is possibly the worst person you know. So when her annual Independence Day party arrives, you try to give her as little reason to pick on you as possible. Not being single for once should cover most of the topics she complains about. So you ask your friend Bucky to play pretend.

Tis the damn season by @starrysebastians

On the first post-blip Thanksgiving, you find yourself having to reunite with your parents and your heart is not in it — Sam persuades you to take Bucky with you, and this might be an opportunity for you two to get to know each other.

SERIES

The Holiday Hack by @gogolucky13

You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party.

Breaking The Rules by @redgillan

You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Best Boyfriend You’ve Ever Had by @language-rxgers

When you find out your sister is getting married and expects you to bring a date to her wedding in two months, you panic, having not gone on so much as a coffee date with a guy in far too long. After all, being an Avenger doesn’t leave too much time for a life outside of work. So, when your best friend, none other than the James Buchanan Barnes himself, offers to pretend to be your boyfriend and plus one, how can you refuse? It seems like something that would come out of a movie. However, real life is never like the movies, and stories like this never go as planned.

Stepping Up by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

When Steve can’t go with you to your cousin���s wedding, he sends Bucky in his place. What happens when more than one person assume you’re dating? 

Picture Perfect by @writingsoftheloser

When Steve asks his collegue to be his fake girlfriend, she accepts, thinking nothing could really go wrong. Then, she meets Steve’s best friend.

-> this is not bucky and reader fake dating but it’s one of my favorite fics so I included it!

Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness

Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?

Heart to a Gunfight by @lailannajacobs

You didn’t want to help Bucky Barnes make it through the party by pretending to be his fake girlfriend, after all, you had just met him. You also didn’t plan on the charade lasting as long as it did. 

am i more than you bargained for? by @morsmordre-writes

Bucky has an unwanted secret admirer, so naturally you pretend to be his girlfriend until it blows over. Will someone catch feelings? Will they be absolute idiots about it all? Will they live happily ever after? We may never know.

Almost Had Me Believing It by @tuiccim

An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes' wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.

A Certain Romance by @wienerbarnes

With the threat of yet another bad date at the result of Sam Wilson’s meddling, Bucky’s desperate to find a solution. As are you, another victim to Sam’s failed matchmaking. The two of you come up with a genius plan: pretend to date each other in order to escape the poking and prying nose of the Falcon.

The Proposal by @toomanyrobins2

Y/N Arnaud is the liaison to the Avengers, but she’s also a French citizen. After a couple mistakes, her visa application is denied. Even though they can’t stand each other, Bucky offers to marry her in order to keep her visa status in the U.S. and avoid deportation.

Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel

You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.

Where Dreams Go To Die by @insomniumstella

[sailtomarina]

Buy None, Get Two

cw: smut, M/M/F

It was supposed to be a short stop, your intention being to pick up a few personal items then head on home. Today was the one and only day of the Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes Spring Sale, after all, and their lines of WonderWitch were second to none in creativity and efficacy.

In hindsight, it would have been smarter to enter like any other customer from the front door. The main entrance meant light, open space, and plenty of witnesses. You would have been able to shop in peace with little interruption but the knowing wink of the clerk.

Let’s just say that eagerness played a part in your absence of thought. You tossed on your favourite corduroy skirt, a heavy knit jumper, and your trainers before grabbing your purse.

You went through the Floo by habit, stepping directly from your cottage into the twins’ flat above the shop. Were this any other day, the lights would have been out, the space quiet, the telltale ginger hair bent over experiments or paperwork downstairs in their offices.

So when you walked directly into the well-lit sitting room where Fred and George lounged on the sofa directly facing the fireplace, you froze.

“Well, well, what do we have here, Forge?”

“I don’t know, Gred. It looks like our girl’s here to take advantage of some great savings.”

You could feel your lips curling into the familiar grin these two always prompted, but you angled your body towards the front door in an attempt to squeeze by safely. “Now boys, I only have a small window of time that I intend to use wisely–”

Your well-laid plans ended in a squeak as you were lifted off your feet and laid unceremoniously across two sets of legs. Fred’s arm cradled your head carefully while his other automatically wrapped around your waist. George immediately took to removing your trainers, strong fingers massaging circles against the tight muscles and turning you limp.

“Our little sale has been more successful than anticipated and we thought we’d get away for a breather–,” Fred said lightly, his hand now tracing down your cheek.

“–so your arrival comes at a perfect time, love,” George picked up where his brother left off. You couldn’t help the sigh that escaped you as he slipped off your socks. His hands were warm against your smooth skin, and you thanked yourself for the foresight of shaving the night before.

“What did you two have in mind?” While you knew exactly what it was you wanted, you decided to play coy. They’d disrupted your original ideas, after all. You couldn’t make things too easy for them.

“Well…” Fred’s fingers propped your chin up as he leaned down to hover just out of reach, “that depends.”

“On?”

Your eyes flickered away from Fred to watch as George shifted on the chaise, separating your legs so he could turn and kneel between them. 

George licked his lips as he eyed the two of you, and his hands moved up your thighs to continue his gentle rubbing. “On what it was you were planning on purchasing.”

Trapped between their warm bodies as you were, you couldn’t help the flush that worked its way up your chest to fill your cheeks. They smirked at the sight.

“I wanted to pick up some Daydream Charms,” you continued despite the way Fred clicked his tongue in disapproval, “Crush Blush, since I’m almost out, and a Tongue Twister–”

“I can understand the blush, but do you really need the others when you already have two wizards who are more than happy to fulfil any fantasies you might have?” George interrupted.

His hands slipped beneath the thick fabric of your skirt, long fingers sweeping up the expanse of your thighs and encouraging you to widen them as he bent forward.

“George, you really don’t need to–”

“He wants to, love, as do I,” Fred said, gripping your chin firmly and raising his eyebrows. “Or do you want us to stop? Just say the word.”

The mouth that had been kissing its way up your inner thigh paused now above your centre, the heat of his breath priming you for a very different sort of tongue. A gush pulsed through you at past memories of how skillful they were with their fingers and mouths. They were insatiable, their focus unwavering and discerning of how every single sensation affected you. They used that knowledge to their advantage and your demise, turning you into a helpless puddle at their beck and call.

Sometimes it mortified you, afterwards, thinking about all the ways you unravelled at their touch, how easily they could make you say and do things you never would have dared on your own. You weren’t a very open person, despite how your body and mind seemed to unfurl at the mere suggestion of their eyes on yours.

You knew without a shred of doubt that, were you to say so, Fred and George would remove their hands. You hadn’t put a label on what it was that went on between the three of you just yet. You hoped, yes. You craved and dreamt.

“Don’t stop.” Low and breathless, you sounded desperate because, well, you were.

“Your coins are no good to us, sweetheart,” Fred murmured. He maintained a steady commentary while George mouthed you through the thin cotton of your knickers. 

The barrier was a joke sodden as it was with the combination of his spit and your steady arousal. He sealed his mouth against you and hummed. The vibrations sent you into a backbreaking arch with a moan. It was only Fred’s hands against your shoulders that stopped you from lifting off of the chaise entirely. His chuckle was warm against your cheek, his kiss a reassuring pressure to your temple.

The moment the gusset of your knickers was swept to the side and George ran a flattened tongue the full length of your slit, you cried out, scrabbling for purchase on something, anything.

Fred met you, fingers threading through yours and lips crashing down to muffle your cries. Slowly, he brought your hand up with his own to wrap around your throat. He didn’t squeeze, but he didn’t have to. The mere presence was close enough of a claim to tip you over the edge as George plunged two fingers inside and curled them upward.

“Pretty girl, so sweet and good for us,” Fred cooed. “Can you be good for a bit longer?” His hips shifted beneath your head where it rested. You could feel the thick length of him straining against the constraints.

“Please!” This was why you’d come over, wasn’t it? You’d dreamt last night of a scenario much like this one where the twins moved over and around you, taking turns wringing pleasure from you like another one of their experiments. 

You only had to turn your head the barest amount before your jaw opened wide to take in his bared cock, while, at the same time, you felt a blunt pressure at your cunt. Like they shared one mind, they impaled you from both ends. Hands pressed against your hips and the back of your head, bringing you flush against them. You trembled, and you gagged, and still they held on tight.

“Nnnnn,” you couldn’t speak with your mouth and throat stuffed full; you weren’t sure how much longer you could last like this.

One of them, you weren’t sure who, shushed you. Fingers brushed against your clit, a fist tightened around your hair, spots danced across your vision through which you could only see the milky skin of Fred’s lower abs and a thatch of red hair slightly darker than the rest.

Just as you felt like you were about to pass out, they pulled back, and you gasped for air just in time to be filled once again. They repeated the process until you shouted around Fred’s cock and shook beneath George’s circling thumb.

“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, I’m–” Fred groaned deep as he started to come, spilling down your throat as you worked to swallow all of him. “Look at you, drinking me up.” He didn’t care about the cum still coating your lips as he bent down to tangle his tongue with yours, thrusting deep and swirling around as if he meant to clean you up.

His mouth caught your cries as George pulled your knees up and spread them in a wide v, thrusting as deep as he could to finish. George nuzzled against your tits over the jumper you still wore as he pulsed inside of you. The slight tingle of magic across your abdomen let you know one of them had cast a contraception charm. It wasn’t until he slipped out of you and sat up that Fred pulled back from your kiss.

“Any chance we can convince you to join us downstairs?” George asked as he offered you your knickers. 

They both wore satisfied grins, eyes crinkled at the corners and lips swollen and red. Given the state of their faces and how their hair stood in disarray, there was no question about what they’d been doing in their free time. 

You tapped your chin as you pretended to think. “I do still have a few more fantasies I’d like to experience if there are any more Daydream charms left…”

Laughter bubbled out of you at the insulted looks they gave you, a joy that turned into dismay when George vanished your knickers with a casual wave of his hand.

“Cheeky witches don’t get to wear knickers,” he sniffed. The act was just that, his smirk giving away his amusement.

“We do still need to eat, if you’d like to join us for lunch.” The uncharacteristic seriousness in Fred’s voice prompted you to look more carefully at him.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Fred Weasley?”

“What if we are?” His chin came up in that stubborn way of his you sometimes saw around his family and rivals. George looked much the same, even with the hint of his smile remaining.

You could slap the invitation down with your usual playful air, and they’d likely go along with your decision. While none of you had strictly gone out of your way to hide the attraction you felt for one another, this would be the first such instance of publicly acknowledging it as such.

“I could be persuaded…”

You looked them both over, biting your lip as you imagined all the ways they could go about convincing you. The possibilities were endless, your mind a playground for three. They leaned forward, beckoned by the prize dangling before them.

Then you bolted, aiming for the door sans knickers and trainers knowing full well they’d never let you make your escape. Laughter rang out behind you, then the familiar weave of their magic wound around you and yanked you back into their arms.

Right where you belonged.

1825 WC

5.19.24 FB: Lauren’s Kitchen prompt: “sale”

Cross-posted on Tumblr, Facebook, and AO3.

[tossawary]

A while back, I had a playthrough of the PS5 "Spider-Man" game going on in the background, and I don't actually remember much from it, but it did do one thing that reeeeeally annoyed me at the time. Although, admittedly, I am not sufficiently familiar with the comics to criticize any of the writing choices with citations.

See, in this game, they had a redheaded love interest for Peter Parker named Mary Jane Watson, BUT this MJ was a journalist. In fact, there were a couple stealth sequences where the player briefly played as journalist MJ investigating some organized crime group.

And I had to stop working to squint at the screen for a while, because I couldn't remember anything about any movie, cartoon, or comic MJ ever doing any work as an investigative journalist. I'd thought that she was a model and actress??? I'd been under the impression that MJ had more of a party girl persona, at least outwardly.

I had to stew on why I disliked this choice, but I concluded that I hated the idea that female characters and their ambitions could be interchangeable. Not all people's personal identities are irreversibly intertwined with their careers, but some definitely are, and for others, career choices are still going to say something about their personality and background.

There are some characters who can job-hop across a wide variety of jobs and it doesn't impact their general characterization much. But there are other characters where I'm like, "If they lost their job, they would have an identity crisis and struggle to shift industries." Someone who is an academically minded scientist is not always going to have an easy transition into a profit-oriented sales job. Someone who likes to fix things with their hands is probably going to dislike switching to a job filling out spreadsheets. Someone who hates kids is probably not going to be a good teacher. Someone who was really professionally ambitious may not adjust well to being a stay-at-home parent, financially dependent on someone else and responsible for the well-being of a helpless little human being. And so on. All for various complicated human reasons.

I don't remember enough about the aforementioned game to be criticizing it specifically here. But generally speaking, I disliked the basic concept that a female character couldn't be interesting and challenging if she had a "shallow" and "feminine" career. I disliked the general concept that MJ could be "improved" as a character by being given a more "serious" / "intellectual" career. I disliked the idea that Peter Parker was REQUIRED to have a redheaded love interest named MJ, as per many preceding comics, but who MJ actually was as a person in terms of hobbies she enjoyed, ambitions she dreamed about, her opinions and fears and messy behaviors, could just be swapped out as if none of that internal richness mattered.

In my very basic knowledge, the "Spider-Man" comics have a wide cast of female characters, some of whom have been journalists or employees of the Daily Bugle! Peter has had MANY love interests over the years! And MJ apparently being "shallow" gave her specific (admittedly often misogynistic) relationship dynamics with other female characters like Gwen, which made MJ stand out as a unique personality. Not all superhero love interests have to be Lois Lane, investigative journalist!

To me, it's a little like making Lois Lane NOT a journalist, and making her into a model and actress instead. Like, you COULD do that. In fact, if you were really willing to put the work in for an AU, I'm sure you could do a fascinating character study about what would have to be different about Lois Lane's life to put her on a wildly different career path. But if there was a "Superman" game and you randomly changed Lois Lane's career without a great reason, you would get tomatoes thrown at you.

This game did have a reason to make MJ into a journalist: she became a source of information to move the plot forward and it briefly made her a playable character. Which is... fine. That's fun, even. I think you could have probably written the story in such a way that actress MJ was involved with something that ended up being a front for organized crime, to achieve similar results, but it is easier in some ways to just make her a journalist, I guess.

And hey, for all I know, this game really did a great adaptation of comics MJ into a journalist; maybe the writing had some really solid AU characterization for her. I do not remember it well enough, but I do remember the writing in other areas of the game being pretty solid. As a standalone character, I didn't think that this game's version of MJ was bad or anything.

But, lacking those citations to study her as am adaptation of the comics character, I still feel a little suspicious and salty about it.

I think this came to mind again because I was thinking about fanfiction AUs which change a character's career, and why they occasionally don't work for me. Sometimes, you take a character who is ordinarily fighting genetically engineered aliens in an apocalyptic wasteland, plop them in a Modern AU, and say, "They're a daycare worker now!" And I might be like, "Yeah, that's exactly where they'd be. That's their happy place. Hell yeah." But with other characters, you do the same thing, and I'm like, "I'm gonna be real, I think this would be this character's personal hell."

[bunnyteetharry]

Boyfriend

summary: pranking Harry with the “calling your husband boyfriend” trend

warnings: none? light spanking, use of brat

pairing: husband!arry x wife!reader

————⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ —————⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ —————⋆ ˚｡⋆

It was late into the afternoon

You were sprawled on the couch bundled up in your favorite sage blanket with the TV playing on low volume as background noise

You were scrolling mindlessly on TikTok when you came across a video of a women calling her husband boyfriend right in front of him and getting the funniest reaction, you were dying to do this to Harry and what better timing then to do it now that he’s been more at home since taking a mild break from touring and going to the studio here and there when he feels like it

You knew he was in the home library catching up on his tbr stack that you collecting for him whilst he was touring

It was a thing you did for one another

Grabbing books or nicknacks that you knew the other would enjoy

Earlier you asked if he was feeling hungry for anything and you both agreed on ordering in so you made your way towards the room he was in, your idea was to order food in front of him but in actually you’re just going to be on a fake call with the camera facing him

“Baby!” You called out as you entered “Yes m’love” he hummed grabbing his bookmark and placing the book on the side wooden table that was next to him

“Did you want to get Chinese food for dinner tonight?” He smiled and nodded “Yeah that sounds great, did you want me to called them?” shaking your head you pulled out your phone from your pocket “Ill do it you just continuing reading” you smiled widely and plopped down next to him on the small brown crouch with pink flowers printed all around it, you had picked it out together when you passed by a garage sale in your neighborhood

He looked at you suspiciously as he knew you didn’t like making phone calls when it comes to ordering or phone calls in general since it freaked you out but this time he just decide to brush this off and picked up his book

In the middle of your fake order that’s when the prank began

“Yes, and my boyfriend would like to get the same thing except with fried rice for the second side”

Harry paused for a minute, not quite sure he heard you correctly but as he slowly started to register what you had said his eyebrow rose, his jaw was clench and he had a smirk rising up on his face

What was going through his head, you didn’t know, but were you excited to see how this was going to play out? oh defiantly

“Okay perfect, thank you!” You ‘ended’ the call and founded Harry starring blankly at you

“Yes?” You smiled and giggled “Boyfriend huh?” He had this dark look casted over his eyes that made you laugh even more ‘Oh this is funny to you” you covered your mouth as you smiled “I did nothing wrong” he hummed and nodded before placing his book back down and wrapping his hands tightly around your ankles pulling you right to him, it was a small couch so you were dragged immediately to him

You screamed out laughing as he hovered above you, pushing down your arms to your side as he trapped your legs between his thighs to stop you from ever kicking

He flipped you around and you immediately screamed again “No Harry I’m sorry!” he ignored your pleases and continued, roughly he smacked your ass, part of you was happy you had clothes on so the impact didn’t hurt as much but at the same time this man is stronger than you

“You’re a brat” he mumbled sitting back down “It was funny admit it” you crawled onto his lap and positions his face to look at you, he smiled and rolled his eyes, giving you a soft peck

“I’m your husband, understand? Have been for four years, not some fucking boyfriend anymore” he nuzzled his head towards your neck lightly pressing kisses “Mm definitely can’t post this” his head perked up “Post what?” you immediately slid off his lap and ran out of the room

“Nothing!”

a/n: wasn’t feeling it half way but enjoy! also I’m taking request if anyone wants to suggest anything :)

[gyllenhaalstories]

OH, THE MISTLETOE — JERRY BRINSON 🎄

summary: you have been invited to your friend's work party for christmas and she played santa's little helper to match you with her coworker.

warnings: i tried to keep the story accurate to its setting in the 1960s but i'm sure there are anachronisms, mention of divorce, alcohol & food, mostly fluff, smut, (pussy eating & fingering). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 4070

gifs credits: @/stephendorff (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: in the original script, jerry works at, and i quote, 'a mid-range sporting good store' so i kept this detail rather than what was shown in the movie, it suits my man better. this is what my brain chose to write after months of not even forming a coherent sentence... so ambitious and exhausting. i lost count of how many things i googled to make sure they existed in 1960s (and how many photos of jello salads i looked at). i suggest listening to vintage oldies to enjoy this fic to the fullest. ❤️💚 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

"Take those cookies to the table, will you? I'll drop our coats off at the back of the store. I cleaned it well before the end of my shift yesterday, so don't worry about dust and grime. I'm not quite sure what type of dust golf clubs can leave behind anyway..." Your friend spoke, mostly to herself, as she held on to the platter of baked goods while you removed your winter coat.

After a swift exchange, you watched her head towards the back of the sporting good store while you followed the path of a few other people who brought food for the potluck.

Jerry emerged from the back store where he, too, had put away his winter clothes. He stopped by the mirrors to neatly fix his hair. He arranged his clothes too, he did not look all that bad for a man who had spent a solid hour shovelling snow off the side walk before the guests arrived.

In order to convince you to attend the Christmas party with her, your friend made you a promise. She swore she would stay with you until she found someone else you would get along with, forbidding you from looking sad and lonely all by yourself in a corner of the store until she would be ready to leave. She could be quite convincing, your friend.

But she also lived with her head up in the clouds, you doubted you would find friendship in a group of employees and their partners who decided to hang out together one last time before the Holiday break.

Jerry quickly greeted his colleague, this bubbly young lady who always had a topic to babble about. His poor attempt at small talk quickly took a turn when he felt dragged by the arm in the opposite direction of where he was headed. This colleague of his briefly explained that she had someone he absolutely needed to meet.

"This right here is none other than Jerry Brinson. He's the best vendor we've ever had at the store. But I already told you that, haven't I?"

Your eyes widened in surprise when your friend came back with a mysterious man on her arm. You fought a giggle when you noticed that this same man seized the first opportunity he saw to withdraw himself from the forced embrace. You stretched out your hand to shake his. Jerry's grip was firm, it conveyed a level of confidence that did not match the hesitant smile on his face.

"I wouldn't say that, you're good too." Jerry replied with a light shrug.

"Nonsense." Your friend brushed off his not-so heartfelt praise before she shamelessly continued her sales pitch. "Jerry could sell snow boots to a polar bear if one ever rang the bell on the counter... Oh! Speaking of which, did you read it in the papers?" Jerry and you shook your heads simultaneously. "Apparently they've spotted one of those up north, near the big river."

Again, Jerry and you seemed connected. You both shot her an incredulous look. "I don't think there are polar bears in Montana."

Jerry timidly nodded his head in agreement. If there were bears around, surely they were not white. And surely they would not walk in a random store right in the middle of Great Falls.

Your friend sighed at your ungratefulness. She tried so hard to set you up with good company and there you were, ruining her attempts. She gave you an obvious glance of encouragement, which you met with an annoyed eye roll. Right when you thought things could not get more awkward, your friend excused herself when she spotted her fiancé entering the already crowded store.

You stood alone with Jerry. The conversation immediately fell flat. You both exchanged shy and avoidant looks while everybody else mingled cheerfully. Jerry took a moment to study you, from head to toe. You would have caught his eye, even without the intervention of the self-proclaimed cupid's assistant he called his coworker. The manager's daughter, in fact. After a while, he broke the heavy silence. "I don't know who I'm waitin' to impress here." Jerry chuckled, visibly no less uncomfortable than when your friend carried the entire discussion.

"For what it's worth, there's no need to impress her. You can't out talk a chatterbox." You glanced over your shoulder, the social butterfly you called your friend now paraded her partner left and right. You turned your attention back to the man before you.

"Wasn't talking about her." Jerry replied bluntly. "But it's good to know she's always like that. Talking is great, it gets you to connect with the client. It makes it easier to sell what they want rather than what they need, but she..." He marked a pause while he racked his brain in the search of polite terms. "She's got a lot of enthusiasm."

"Spoken like a true salesman."

"What can I say? You got the employee of the month for the twenty-something time in a row standing right in front of ya."

You arched a playful brow. "Only twenty times?"

"Oh, yeah, that's when the boss started this gimmick."

Your genuine laugh made his shoulders relax. You could tell he was not one to brag, he made that clear when he did not allow your friend to stroke his ego by listing out all of his exploits.

"Wanna grab a bite?" He suggested when he noticed that several other guests already lined up by the tables.

You happily agreed. You waited in the queue, filled your plate with a few bites of the most appetizing dishes then you walked back to your initial spot. You looked over your shoulder, expecting to see Jerry following you, but he was taking his sweet time. When he finally walked back, he balanced a precarious plate of food in one hand and a beer in the other all the while he chewed on something. He looked like a chipmunk with full cheeks, you laughed at the imagery.

"You know... If I gotta sell one thing tonight, it's those cookies." He pointed at the folding tables by the wall.

On the red table cloth, no dish was left untouched. Not even the several variations of Jell-O salads that left you wondering how many of those concoctions were too many for one single party. You distinguished a familiar serving platter that looked rather empty.

"Have you tried the cookies? You gotta try them." Jerry set his beer and his plate down on the nearest surface he could find, which turned out to be a pile of shoe boxes. He reached a hand behind your back, with the intention to guide you to the array of miscellaneous meals that composed the potluck. But he quickly withdrew himself. "Wait."

You nodded. This time, you watched him make his way through the crowd as if he was playing hockey on ice. He glided expertly and he avoided the attempts at pointless chitchat from friends and colleagues.

Jerry returned with a pyramid of cookies on a paper napkin. "I could've eaten the whole platter, they're delicious."

"I know." You spoke before Jerry even had time to hand you the bigger half of the cookie he just broke in two. He looked up from the napkin, his head slightly tilted. "I baked them."

"You did?" He watched you take a bite, you did not eat with as much appetite as he did. He assumed you were already aware of your delicious talent. "Gotta have to teach me." For a second, you noticed the way his gaze appeared vacant. His mind drifted to the thought of his ex-wife, Jeannette, when she revealed she had been teaching that old Miller guy how to swim. The mere comparison between this party he shared with a lovely stranger and what happened before his divorce left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You frowned, the desire to inquire about this sudden change in his expression tickled your mind but you decided to stay quiet.

Jerry put on a small grin, picking up where he left off. "I'd like the recipe, if you don't mind sharing it. I'm sure my son would love it a lot more than the cake I baked for his birthday last year. Christ, that was a disaster." To put it briefly, he was glad he knew how to extinguish a fire.

You both chuckled, Jerry went on to explain how he swapped the sugar and salt, amongst other mistakes. You listened intently to more of his stories about his son. He loved his child dearly, that you could tell. You could also tell that your friend had lied to you. While boasting about her handsome colleague, she made a point in explaining how he seemed like a quiet man unless a conversation about sports sparked up. You witnessed the complete opposite.

Eventually, the two of you decided to sit down on one of the benches by the shoe racks. The anecdotes started to blend together, to the point that even Jerry realized that he was becoming bothersome. "You still sure I can't outdo your friend? 'Cause it feels like I've been talking your ears off."

You grabbed the last cookie he had brought out to share together. You nodded at Jerry when he insisted that you needed to let him know if he got you bored out of your mind with his stories about his wild life. In the distance, you caught a glimpse of your friend's approving smile that beamed brighter than the Christmas lights hung around the store for this special occasion.

*~*~*

"There you are."

You turned around to look at Jerry who leaned against the door frame. Above his head, you noticed that somebody had hung a garland of mistletoe.

"Thought you had sneaked out on me." Jerry's chin pointed in direction of the pile of coats. He then apologized for getting distracted by a conversation with his boss. "Wasn't far from the truth, huh?"

You shook your head and finally found your coat, you put it on. "It's getting late, better make it home before I have to walk in two feet of snow." Jerry echoed your laughter.

He nodded understandingly when you explained that your friend promised you a ride home, but in the end she insisted on staying at the party with her fiancé. Jerry expected a question that never came. "I'll drive you."

You quickly declined his offer. You did not live too far away, you did not want to bother him. Excuses.

"A pretty dress like this wasn't made for a hike in the snow." More excuses.

You tilted your head and, with a deep sigh, you accepted.

"Stubborn." You heard him whisper the word when you brushed shoulders as Jerry reached through the pile to dig up his coat. His keys fell from the pocket, so he bent down to pick them up from the floor. "Those shoes weren't made for walking outside either, darlin'."

You conceded, you would not make it the whole way back home in such an outfit.

"May I interest you in a brand new item we received? It just got invented by a smart fella from Maine. They're called ski boots. They're boots... For skiing."

"Revolutionary." You faked a dramatic gasp, successfully pulling another chuckle out of Jerry. "I'll have to visit the store again, then."

"I work five days a week, miss. I'll be happy to assist." With a wink, he offered you his arm to hold.

You glanced up at the garland of mistletoe one last time. Jerry put on his coat without bothering to zip it closed and he led the way to the exit. When the door shut behind the two of you, the infernal chattering noise finally quieted down. Jerry and you exchanged a knowing look with a mutual appreciation to for the newfound tranquility outside of the party.

*~*~*

Jerry parked in front of your apartment building. He hurried to the passenger door that he held open for you. He expected an invitation that did come this time.

You stood by the car, locking eyes with Jerry for a moment. "A handsome face like yours wasn't made to freeze out in the cold now, was it?" You smiled as you began to walk towards the door of your apartment.

The sound of Jerry's footsteps in the snow confirmed he followed you closely. You exchanged another longing look while you unlocked the front door of your apartment. You let him walk in first, he quickly untied his shoes and he placed them besides yours on the entrance mat. He helped you with your coat that he hung according to your instructions.

You noticed that Jerry was chuckling. "What is it?" You asked with a confused frown.

"It's real quiet in here." He admitted and you wholeheartedly agreed.

You brushed shoulders again as you made your way to the radio in your living room. You tuned in to your favourite radio station. It played Christmas music, the perfect ambience to calmly extend the party that started at the store. "Better?"

"Better indeed, darlin'." Jerry flashed you a smile that made you feel warm all over. Silence crept in the room, except this time it was much more comfortable than when you first met at the beginning of the party. Still, Jerry insisted on breaking it. "Smells really good in here." He could discern the scent of freshly baked goods, he assumed it was the remnants of the cookies, but there was something else to it.

"I made some mulled wine earlier, I haven't cleaned the pot yet. It's such a hassle." You shrugged before your eyes widened in surprise at your own realization. "There's some left, I could warm it up for us. How does that sound?"

Jerry's enthusiastic nod of approval brought the two of you in your small kitchen. He tried to stay out of your way, using your fridge as an arm rest while he watched you grab a ladle and two mismatched mugs.

You stirred the spiced wine slowly, waiting for it to come to temperature while Jerry entertained you with more anecdotes.

Until he switched it up with questions that encouraged you to tell your own stories too. He sipped the wine from the mug you handed him and he listened intently to every detail about your life that you shared.

You set your beverage down to finally tackle the dishes. Before your hands met with the water running from the faucet, you were gently nudged away.

"Let me help." Jerry left you no time or space to be stubborn or to turn him down, he put on the pair of rubber gloves he saw on the counter. You both laughed at the ridiculous sight while he scrubbed the pot clean.

You poured more dish soap so he could scrape off the spices that had gotten stuck. Soon enough, Jerry was done and he removed the gloves before setting the pot on top of the fridge. You placed your hand on his arm, your thumb gently caressed the soft material of his blue polo shirt. "You know you didn't have to do all that." Keeping you company, driving you home, now helping you with these trivial tasks... "I appreciate it."

He pressed his lips together, his head dipped in acknowledgement of your sentiment. Jerry's eyes flicked from yours down to your lips and back up again. "I don't usually do that."

"What, wash dishes?" You returned with a chuckle.

"No, that I do a lot of." He admitted. All these years of being a father and yet he could not comprehend how many dirty dishes one child could leave behind. He blinked away the thoughts of a sink full of plates and glasses. "I meant... Kiss." He leaned closer to you. "I don't kiss a lady on the first date."

You felt heat rising to your cheeks, your own gaze fell to his mouth. "Oh, that's too bad." His defined cupid's bow faded when he smiled at you.

"I could make an exception, y'know."

You hummed in response, locking eyes with him for a moment. You had only just met, yet it felt like you truly knew Jerry with all the talking you both did this evening. Ultimately, your friend's plan to set you up with her handsome colleague had worked. You would figure out a way to let her know at another time. You had much more pressing plans...

Jerry pressed his lips on yours. His eyes closed, his heart skipped a beat.

The kiss was tender, but it quickly lost its hesitation when you erased the remaining distance between the two of you.

He held your face in his hands to kiss you a second time.

The two of you slowly deepened the kiss, with Jerry's head tilting to the side to let your tongues dance together.

His hands fell to your shoulders and then they caressed down your body, following your curves. He guided your hands to rest on the small of his back before he placed his own on your hips.

Jerry gently pressed you against the counter. His forehead met yours while he tried to catch his breath.

Your mouth found his again and again, until he left a trail of kisses from your lips to your jawline and all the way down to your neck.

Jerry sprinkled open-mouthed kisses on your skin, as he inhaled the soft scent of your perfume. He pulled away to lock eyes with yours, searching for an ounce of hesitation or perhaps a drop of regret for the passion growing speedily between the two of you.

All he found in your beautiful eyes was a reflection of desire that shined in his own gaze. You leaned your head in his hand while he held your face again. You nodded softly.

He reached for your hand that he brought to his lips for a kiss. You watched his grin grow on his face as he leaned down. All the way down until his knees met the floor. He let out a huff of air. "I'm not as young and fresh as I used to be."

You rolled your eyes and laughed at his joke, as if he was a frail old man.

He popped the collar button of his polo open and he looked at you. The dimmed light of the kitchen made his eyes glimmer. His fingertips caressed up your legs, from your ankles to your knees. Jerry's eyebrow arched on his forehead, creating a wrinkle you so badly wanted to kiss.

You tilted your head, confused by his unspoken request.

He answered all of your questions when he started kissing his way up the inside of your thighs. His hands splayed on your skin, gently grabbing at the supple flesh.

"Wait," you caused Jerry to pull back in a quick motion. "Let me just..." You brushed all of his sudden worries away when you tried to pull your tights down. You struggled awkwardly. "Sorry."

He chuckled with you and gently pushed your hands out of the way. "Let me do it." Jerry insisted. He concluded the struggle was not worth the wait. "Do you have more than one pair?"

"Yeah, why?" You replied, stumped by his question. Then, you heard the noise of fabric ripping and your eyes widened.

"That's why." Jerry answered bluntly, tickling the now exposed skin of your thighs with his warm breath. He kissed his way to your covered core, he grunted at the sight of your red and lacy underwear. He gave you an apologetic glance before he ripped the delicate material too.

You parted your legs to give him more space.

"It feels like the mistletoe hung up at the party was a good omen, doesn't it?" He murmured. He pressed the lightest and softest kisses possible on your core while you giggled at his words. "May I?" He asked for permission another time.

"Yes please." Chills ran through you when he kept going, kissing you more and more hungrily. If what he said was true, that he did not kiss on the first date, it made this moment all the more special.

Jerry explored you gently with kisses and licks that sufficed to get you worked up.

You bucked your hips against his face, chasing more. You mewled in bliss whenever his tongue or his nose would bump against your clit.

Jerry understood that you craved more than the sweet attention he gave you, and he happily obliged. There was something about you, about the evening you unexpectedly spent together, that made his heart skip a beat. The discussions and the longing stares you shared would have made it nearly impossible to walk out of your apartment without getting a taste of you.

You gripped on the edge of the counter with your left hand, determined to stay upright although your knees were turning into jelly. Your other hand found his head and, after ruffling his hair a bit, you guided him.

Jerry moaned against you, the vibrations reverberated through your entire body. He loved the way you showed him how to make you feel good. He lapped at your essence, he tried to commit to memory the ways you liked to be pleased.

You pulled on his hair a bit, without caring much about the way your skirt swallowed him whole. You looked down to watch his legs shift as he tried to find a more stable position.

His tongue worked through your folds, circled your clit, dipped at your entrance. Jerry's hands found your thighs again so he could pull on the skin to allow him to devour you like a starved man. It had been so long, too long since he had done something of the sort. He could only wish you two would meet again. In the meantime, Jerry was desperate to make you tip over the edge.

You let out a song of moans, breathlessly chanting his name. You felt the muscles of your lower stomach tighten as the pleasure built up. You were so close...

Jerry replaced his tongue with his thumb, so he could catch his breath. The featherlight strokes on your clit made you shiver. Jerry dove back under your dress, flattening his tongue to lick over your folds and his finger too.

You let your head fall back when Jerry made you come on his tongue. Jerry's moans and yours blended into a beautiful symphony as he continued until your legs were shaking like a leaf.

He finished with a kiss on your clit, so you could feel his lips curling into a proud smile.

Both of your hands relaxed when the tidal waves of your orgasm became calm again. Rather than gripping on his hair, you ran your fingers through them. "Come here..." You said, the tone of your voice sounded shaky. Your chest heaved with each breath you took.

Jerry's head emerged from under your skirt, you chuckled at the sight. His hair looked a mess, totally dishevelled. The hair pommade he used to comb his hair over evidently could not sustain such a blissful moment.

A frown flashed on his forehead, his glistening lips formed a small pout. "What? Is everything alright?" He sounded a tad bit concerned, afraid that he did something wrong. Although, judging by the way your body reacted to him and by the moans you sung at his ear... Jerry could tell that that everything was indeed alright.

You nodded slowly while you caught your breath. "More than alright." You reached a hand to smooth his hair. Your hand caressed along his cheek until your fingertip tilted his chin up.

Jerry's gaze met yours, his hands stroked up and down your legs. You barely had time to catch a glimpse of his dimples that his head disappeared under your dress again. He left a trail of kisses on the inside of your thighs that grew gentler and gentler as he approached your core again.

"You're still trying to impress me?" You asked, before a small gasp escaped you as his mouth met your more sensitive place.

Rather than answering with words, Jerry's laughter resonated through you like the jolly music that still played on the radio. He lapped at your essence once more, inviting you to impress him with how much you could take.

[hughes86-43]

Sweet Treat | J. Hughes

warnings - none, maybe some grammar errors! just fluff!

summary - on the opening day of your coffee shop, everything is going great, but it only gets better when you meet a certain hockey player. part two

Your dream has always been to open your very own coffee shop with a bakery. After years of hard work with getting your business degree, to determining what type of set up you wanted to have, and earning enough money to actually do it, you finally did it! Your dream became a reality as you walk into the shop on opening day, turning on all the lights and getting everything set up before your two new employees showed up to help with what would possibly a busy day, if everything goes right.

You planned for this opening day tremendously with making sure everything was in stock, training the new employees, setting up the register, picking the perfect table and chairs, and now at 9 am on the clock, you turn the sign on the front door to open.

Within a total of three hours of being open, a large amount customers have came in and ordered their coffees and even a sweet treat. They congratulated you on the opening of your shop and told you that they would certainly tell others about the shop, you couldn’t be happier.

Around the four hour mark, business had slowed down a bit to a constant pace, when a young guy walks in. You look up from the register, ready to greet the guy, when all of a sudden you’re stopped in your tracks just by how gorgeous the guy looks. All words have left your mind as soon as you saw him.

As you come back from your day dream, you see that he has reached the counter and now has a confused look on his face as you have not said a word to him yet. With a poke from one of your coworkers, you remember that you need to greet him, you say with blush on your cheeks, “I am so sorry! I must’ve been focused too much on how good sales have been today to have noticed you come up, so sorry!” As you hope you played that off well. “I’ll start over, hello!”

If he had to admit to himself, as soon as he walked through the door, he thought you were pretty cute. That thought was further confirmed as he walked to the counter and when you started nonstop talking about how you were sorry. “Oh, it’s no problem, I wasn’t standing here long! This is the first day of this place being open right? I was walking by the other day when I saw the ‘coming soon’ sign out front, and I just knew I had to come by once it opened, congrats on the opening by the way!”

With your cheeks warming up once again (seriously what is wrong with you, this has never happened before), you say, “Yes, thank you! It is opening day! Business has been booming today and it’s everything I have hoped for! Do you need a minute to look at the menu or do you know what you want?”

“I usually just get a normal coffee if I go somewhere, but I’m feeling adventurous today, do you have any recommendations?”, he says with a shy smile.

“Oh, I have plenty of recommendations! But, I’ll give you my go-to order to try! It’s an iced mocha with breve, or half and half, as the milk, it is so good! Would you like to give it a try?”, you say hopefully he will take the idea.

With a nod, he says, “That’s perfect! I’ll have that and one chocolate muffin.” With that, you ring him up and he pays.

“What’s the name for this order? So I can call it out for you when it’s done of course. We can’t just have people grabbing other people’s coffees, ya know!,” you blabber on and on again.

“Ja-Jack!”, he says stumbling over his words, by how cute you are. “You can put Jack.”

“Okay, great it will be ready right down there.” With that, you get started on his coffee order and get his muffin bagged up.

A few minutes later, Jack is just scrolling on his phone while glancing up every few moments to see you working hard behind the counter. You call out, “Order for Jack!”

Jack makes his way to counter to grab his order, “Thank you!”

“I hope you love it! It’s my favorite drink ever, and I put extra mocha drizzle on it for you!”, You say once again blushing.

“Oh, I definitely will, and I will definitely be coming back!”

“Awesome, have a nice day!”, You say with a smile.

As Jack makes his way to the front door, he realizes he should’ve gotten your number, so he turns back around to go to the counter. You notice so you say, “Oh, did you forget something?” While also hoping he would ask for your number as well.

“I did actually, could I have your number? Ya know, so I can get more recommendations on coffee orders from an expert,” he says with a sheepish grin on his face.

“Hmmm, well I can’t just have you ordering a boring regular coffee now can I? Gotta have some fun in your life! So yes, I’ll give you my number,” You say, while grabbing a sticky note and writing your number on it.

“Awesome! I’ll text you sometime tonight!”, feeling happy with that, Jack says goodbye again and heads to the front door, but he stumbles over the welcome mat. He didn’t manage to spill his drink, but he looks over his shoulder to see if you noticed.

You did notice. While trying to hide a laugh, you meet his eyes, and just give a slight shake of your head. He smiles again and gives a wave walking out the door.

Later that night back at your apartment, you felt so contempt on how well opening day went, and the fact that you met a cute guy in the process, that all you could do was just smile. You felt so happy.

As you snuggled into bed, your phone went off noticing a text message.

the coffee was the best! i may or may not have to come by tomorrow to get another… and say hello to the cute owner once again 😁

sheepishly, you text back

glad you loved it, couldn’t have you walk out with a boring cup of coffee! I’ll be sure to tell the owner that a cute guy is coming in tomorrow to tell say hello 😉

[midnightsslut]

So was taylor really cancelled in 2016 or was it more that she wasn't as popular as she was/would like to be?

oh she was absolutely canceled. buckle up because I have a lot of thoughts on this djsjsj.

if you were around in the fandom at all, you knew. things were BAD. that level of hate towards a celebrity is honestly rare these days. i would say the only thing that comes close in recent memory is like… idk, it’s actually hard to think of any because it was a combination of a few factors. it’s not that the general public decided to quietly boycott her and stop consuming her music. it’s that there were viral tweets hating on her pretty much every week. if she did anything in 2016-18, it was met with an absolutely asinine amount of criticism. twitter had a field day with things as innocent as her september cover and her post about having a good year in 2017. a lot of celebrities decided to distance themselves and take kanye’s side. there were numerous articles written about how she was finally going down and should apologize for being problematic. people were famously convinced the tour would flop and absolutely celebrated it. people literally told her she was dead. it’s genuinely difficult to explain the scope of this hate train to people who weren’t around at the time, especially because the news cycle is very different now. people get over news stories a lot quicker than they used to.

now, the main argument people use to prove that she wasn’t canceled is the first-week sales of reputation, which is sort of funny to me because all the coverage in 2017 focused on how its performance was lackluster compared to 1989. of course it still sold well compared to other artists’ albums in the first week, because there was still hype around her comeback, and most importantly, she has a huge fan base. none of the singles had longevity except delicate, which fans genuinely worked their asses off to campaign for. the radio did not play her singles like it used to, though this is due to other factors as well. sure, rep was not actually a flop, but it was nowhere near how TS6, the follow-up to one of the biggest pop eras of the decade, could’ve performed without the cancellation. it also got the worst reviews of her career, most of which generally didn’t focus on the music or the lyricism and were just mad at her as a person. yes, this sounds dramatic, considering the fact that it still got a lot of glowing reviews. the media made sure to focus on a lot of the negative stuff, although they were surprised that critics generally seemed to like it.

what’s funny is that, when she spoke about the kanye controversy in interviews in 2019, no one told her she wasn’t ‘really’ canceled, because a lot of people still hated her. they just told her to get over it. the level of hate was nowhere near pre-rep tour levels anymore, but she was still one of the most criticized celebrities, and it was widely believed that her peak had passed (people love to write revisionist history about the lover album and its performance that does not actually reflect the numbers, but that’s another story). now that more time has passed, and she’s even higher than she was pre-2016, people want to convince her that she’s actually wrong.

it’s almost insane to me to chalk up that level of hate to anything other than a cancellation. seeing articles like ‘was taylor swift REALLY canceled?’ and essays on why that’s just in her head will infuriate ANYONE who was online and didn’t hate her. none of the articles I linked here really convey the scope of that hate. taylor really played the long game and came out the other side of it, but she WAS canceled.

[hughiecampbelle]

Gore (Will Graham Oneshot)

Character/s: Will, Jack, Hannibal mention

Word Count: 1,428

A/N: Truthfully, this one was a little harder to write, but I don't hate it! I just love this show. I'm re-watching some of the episodes bc I keep falling asleep/getting distracted lol. Thank you for letting me share my loves!!!! Feedback is always appreciated!!! ❤❤❤❤

WRITING EVENT ❤️🔪🩸

The water has cooled around you. The color bled bright red, now pink, gummy. It circles around the clogged drain. Bubbles pop around you where the water meets the air. You shiver. He apologizes, his voice careful and quiet, pouring a steaming cup from the sink. Down your spine, it runs its fingers, playing a tune, a melody, down the spokes. They are eager to break free from your flesh. You can’t unhear it. You can only hum along. He doesn’t notice. Or, at least, he pretends not to. The act he plays is impenetrable. The cloth, stained, rubs circles around your shoulder blades. You smell like him. The soap he uses drips from your limbs. The shampoo, conditioner, lathered into your hair. There was so much of it. Not just a single bodys worth. Gallons. He scrubbed you clean, your skin irritated, but thankful. Beneath your fingernails there are remnants. The taste in your mouth. You choked on it. Metallic, cold, congealing. Gasping for air. Your clothes drenched. Soaked to the bone. Your hands slippery, previously tied together, you dial 911. Jack is there. Everyone is. All you can see is red. It’s beautiful, really. Sleek, shiny, thick. You can wipe away as much as you want, it still lingers. Sticky, too. If you closed your eyes, if you stopped gagging, vomiting, it could have been mistaken for honey. Hysterical. In your teeth. Hannibal handing you a bottle of water. Sloshing it around your mouth, your gums and teeth, spitting it into the white snow. Gory, you think. All of it. Paramedics rush towards you. He raises his hand, warning them to come peacefully. You refuse their care. You haven’t been injured. The restraints around your wrists, previously cut, left no bruises, no lacerations. They touch you, offer comfort with their sterile actions. You push them away. It isn’t mine, you say, and confusion settles into their features. Everyone is listening. A crowd has formed outside of the house. Civilians, reporters, officers. Each of them eager for information, starving, ready to nip and bite at one another for sustenance. The blood, none of it is mine. 

A house of horrors, that’s what they called it. But they have no idea. Days you spent there, it felt like, though you’re not sure how much time had passed. The killer, the offender, ordinary looking. They promised not to hurt you. And they didn’t. Not physically. You were only conscious for so long. Waking and sleeping on and off. They’d be in the middle of a speech, a monologue, when you’d come to. Truthfully, they were lonely, admitting it to you in the early morning. Tired of talking to the dead. Thank you for listening to me, they’d say, brushing your hair from your face. Climbing in beside you. Your body, your lips and tongue, too heavy to move. Made of stone. Marble, you think, or granite, like the counters in the kitchen. You only caught a glimpse of it: the kitchen. Painted white, perhaps off-white, with updated fixtures. The rest of it drastically behind in design. It wasn’t their house. That, you knew, had already been searched. So where were you? A relatives maybe, someone long gone, their reconstruction cut short. By what though? A friend? Though, from the way they spoke, the way they held you, you doubted they had many friends left. Abandoned, left for sale. You could imagine a sign with a woman's face on it. Her hair is big, her grin even bigger. Wearing magenta or sky blue. Something funny about that, it makes you smile. Loopy, dazed, lopsided. They smile back at you. See, I knew you’d like it here. A far away feeling of dread filling the cavity of your chest. Pooling, foreign to your nervous system. No longer smiling. The bed was too far from the window. No use in imagining anyways. 

Will stands, his arms out holding a towel. Fluffy, you think, though that’s as far as you’ll go, as much as you’ll let yourself express. You stand, hearing the water fall from you into the bath. There is no shame. Not here. Not now. Your gaze down. The clothes you wore, piled into a wet mound, no longer there. The mess they made cleaned up. When did he do that? You could have sworn he’d been by your side the whole time. He wraps it around you, looking you over. They didn’t, but just as you begin to speak, you stop. Hurt me, you finish in your mind, they didn’t hurt me. He was looking for wounds. Bruises, cuts, anything to indicate harm. Untouched, they left you. They promised. Says he’ll be back in a minute. Okay. You avoid your reflection. You know what will look back will seem fine. Normal. You can’t help but see the red. Your hair matted with it. Your skin is drenched. Your body looks like an open sore. Will wash it away, you know this, and yet. . . When he returns he shows up with clothes you don’t recognize. A t-shirt. Pajama pants. You dress with hesitation. If you stare too long and it all looks bloody. Better not to. Leads you to the hall. Think for a moment before taking you down the stairs. The dogs wait happily at the bottom. Your hand in his. You breathe a sigh of relief: there is no bed down here. You smooth down soft ears, feel wet noses. He leaves you with them in the living room, promising something to eat. You’re not hungry, though. You have brushed your teeth, your tongue, scraped the inside of your mouth raw, but the taste never goes away. Iron. Tired, you curl into yourself.

You hear him in the kitchen. His footsteps. His quiet breath. They weren’t so cautious. Panting, they’d drag something – someone – up the stairs, past your room to the attic. A few struggled, their voices muffled, you thought, by a gag in their mouth. Others, the ones already gone, were harder to move. Heavier. You could tell the difference. The grunting, cursing, that’s what told you they were dead. They spoke softly to the living, hushing them, assuring them they would take care of them. You were so out of it, though. Sometimes you couldn’t tell if it was a dream or not. The next time you woke up, the room, the house, was painted red. The blood dribbled from the ceiling. Not splattered, you think, but coated. The walls, the bed, you. In your nose, your mouth, your eyes. Pulling at your restraints until you get one hand free, desperate to wipe it away. You tried to run, to scream, but you fell. Slipped. On your hands and knees, shaking. Inches of it on the floor, puddle-like. Pulling at the door handle. You want to escape, to run, but everything is greasy. Wet. it’s everywhere. The blood. The bodies drained in the attic. Were they still there? You can’t look, can’t let your thoughts wander. It takes several tries to press the right number. Your fingers are clumsy. You beg for Jack, Jack your boss, Jack who had reported you missing. Pleading, crying. They missed a spot. The kitchen, sleek and new, doused in red, but the pantry, slim, forgotten. You crawl inside until you hear Jack's voice. Only then would you come out. 

When you wake you tug at your wrists, sitting up, expecting to be back there. No, no. The warmth beside you is not them, their body, but one of the dogs. Across the room sleeps Will. He placed a blanket over you while you slept. You breathe in and out, taking in your surroundings. Wills house. The sun setting, the dark blue of the sky bright. Lights scattered through the house remain on, as if expecting you. He took you home. He washed off the blood. He took care of you. You hadn’t thanked him. You barely said anything. You would. They are still out there. Jack, Will, Hannibal, they all promised you would be safe. They would not find you again. They would not do what they did, they would not love you, care for you, make you listen while they killed innocent people. No more blood will be poured, spilled, drenched. Will moves in his sleep, burrowing his head into the pillow. Something about it, the act so innocent, makes you believe them. This place was not the house you were in, scared, crying. It was not stained. You’re safe now. He would take care of you, they all would.

[impala124]

Bad Buddy Ep 9

My thoughts on Ep 1 | Ep 2 | Ep 3 | Ep 4 | Ep 5 | Ep 6 | Ep 7 | Ep 8

Me, at the end of this episode:

Well, I finally got to know what Patshottiversay is about, which started this whole Bad Buddy liveblog thing. So, there's that. As for my thoughts on the entire episode, here we go:

Wai was feeling hurt that Pran lied to him about his relationship with Pat and decided to out them as a form of retaliation. Still don't know if he's the one who saw them leave in the car together, though.

Okay, cut to the final play; Pat is smiling and clapping, but Pran appears to be a bit more subdued and peeking glances at Wai. Now, I thought Wai couldn't be a part of the play because of time constraints, which was the reason why Pran's ass was anywhere near this play.

Don't tell me that Wai is giving Pran the silent treatment after pulling that stunt. THE AUDACITY!!! He is. Pran is apologizing, which I kinda understand, but Wai really needs to get off his high horse. Are you sure you want to pull the best friend card here, Wai? After what you did in response?

Oh no, Pat became the faculty pariah; at least that's what Korn is saying. I'm sure it must've felt good for Pat to (supposedly) have Korn on his side.

I would actually pay good money to watch Pat talk to Wai for Pran. Thank you, Pat, for calling out your boyfriend on his avoidant behavior.

Awwww, Pat asking if Pran wants him to post a status saying that they broke up to get Wai to talk to him is 😭😭😭.

Guys, I don't feel good about this rugby practice. Okay, Pat's fine, at least physically.

I mean, Korn is being fun and playful, which must feel nice for Pat, but I'm still reserving judgment. His reaction just doesn't seem genuine, you know?

Pran is waiting in the bleachers for his jock boyfriend to finish rugby practice.

I have to admit that I let out a chuckle at the inhaler product placement in this tense atmosphere.

I'm sure their flirting is just pissing Wai off. Oh Wai, you really showed your attention-seeking ass there, didn't you?

So, let me get this straight: Pran only came to rugby practice to make his boyfriend sniff on an inhaler. ASFSHGF—

Yay, double date with Pa and Ink. My darlings. Okay, so, let's settle this once and for all. WHO SEDUCED WHOM? I'll have to go with Pat seducing Pran because Pran would have never taken the first step.

Ink trying to stir up the pot by asking Pat if he were lying about having feelings for her is just chef's kiss.

See, Ink saw PatPran coming from a mile. I mean, since Ink knows about their parents rivalry, even if she didn't want to broach that subject with the guys, I expected her to bring it up with Pa. Am I showing my nosy ass over here?

Ink, babygirl, I hope you weren't going for subtle with the "Are you being hit on by anyone?" Because it wasn't subtle, at all. These girls will be the death of me.

Ink, girl, what are you playing at? Please don't toy with Pa's feelings.

The domesticity!!!! "Can you stop being a big, clingy dog for one second?" Don't be lying now, Pran; you like him exactly like that.

Pa is the ever-suffering child that has to witness her parents PDA.

Wai is still mad, and Pat is kind of done seeing his boyfriend being sad.

I just hope the drink sales went through the roof after the episodes aired because they worked hard for the product placement to seem natural.

What in the what now, you take a sip of the drink and lose control over your bodily movements?! Maybe I'm not the target customer for this.

We are back to their regular flirting now. Pran saying, "All I know is if you lose, you won't get anything," in response to Pat's, "If I win, will I get more than the drink?" AAAAHHHHHH!

Game time!! I just have this feeling that Pat's going to end up getting hurt. Hope I'm wrong.

Okay, so none of Pran's friends are talking to him.

What crawled up Wai's ass now? This is a team sport; remember your rugby scholarship? Why are you half-assing it?

Pat, baby boy, a fight is what he wants, and you're giving it to him.

I think Pat is smart for saying, "I'll ask the coach to not send me onto the field if you can guarantee a win," to Wai—it indicates that the team winning is the thing that matters the most to him.

WAI PASSED THE BALL TO PAT!!!Pran also moved closer to his friends on the bleachers. And they won!!!

Pat definitely deserves to get whatever he wants from Pran after leading the team to victory and bridging the gap between Pran and his friends.

Well, Wai is still sulking, but at least it's off the field, and that's expected and normal atp.

I'd be worried if he were treating Pat like a friend now.

The other team seems like they are a bunch of sore losers. God, I hope they won't plan a sneak attack at night for revenge or anything like that. I don't know; I just have this gut feeling that someone will end up getting hurt.

All Pat wants is just to be babygirled by Pran. Is this the more you were talking about earlier, Pat? The reward after your win? Well, they got cockblocked by Korn.

They are at a bar celebrating their win. I don't want anyone injured at the end of the night, but my spidey senses are tingling.

Oh no, the losing team is at the place where Wai works, and the guy recognized him. I smell trouble in the air. HE DID NOT JUST PULL A GUN ON WAI. WTF???!!!

Thank God that Wai is trying to de-escalate the situation. Thank you, good stranger, who was just carrying his drunk friend out and inadvertently helped Wai.

Now, Pat's friends are also at the same place. So, the sore loser isn't done yet.

Oh, this takes me back in time. Remember when Pat's friends did the same to Wai? Pat remained passive back then, but he's butting in right now. Wai is asking Pat to back off, and he did, but I don't trust the look on that sore loser's face.

Pat, bestie, where are your friends? Why are you walking alone on a deserted street at night after that interaction?

Pat, RUN! Why are you trying to fight them? You are outnumbered.

Okay, Pat's friends are here.

Oh, no, he pulled the fucking gun. Are you shitting me right now??? This is how PAT GOT SHOT??!

I'm sorry, but why was that one of the funniest gunshots I've ever seen?

Guys, it's just so surreal. Why did it have to be a gun? I think it would've made more sense for it to be a knife the way they fought over it. You know, a knife stabbing instead of the gunshot wound. I would've taken it more seriously then, maybe.

Pran's in the hospital, on his way to cuss Pat's ass out, I hope.

Why are Pat's friends acting like that? Pat, sir, why are you breathing like that?

To kiss your boyfriend?! I'm softening up to Pat's friends a bit. They are just immature but don't mean any harm.

Apparently no one is taking this seriously because a gun went off in the middle of the night and the patient was just brought to the hospital. WHERE ARE THE COPS? Did they contact his parents?? Pat is 19 at the max. They should inform someone, RIGHT?!

WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S JUST A GRAZE WOUND AND A BANDAGE IS ENOUGH, Pat? Huh? I feel like I'm going INSANE!!

Thank God the cops showed up. Now, why are the cops being dumb and assuming that Pat shot himself with his own firearm?

How about an investigation? Maybe send it to the lab for fingerprint analysis or check if the gun is registered under someone's name?

Why do I have to tell the cops how to do their job? They're charging him already. Man, what is this???!

Well, I guess it's good that Wai told everyone that Pat helped him the previous night.

I'm sorry, but what do you mean they are charging him without any investigation?

"Without any proof to confirm it isn't his, he's over." Is this how the justice system works? Aren't the cops supposed to provide irrefutable proof that the person committed the crime before they charge them?

Did they take witness statements? Do the police even know that others have fled the scene?

Now, why are these college kids trying to bring the others who fled the crime scene in? Shouldn't the police do that?

Since they played a game against them with a referee and all, they must have a record of their government names somewhere. Why don't they just turn the list over to the police?

Okay, I guess Wai is going to use the footage where the guy pulled the gun on him to prove Pat's innocence.

I mean, good, but why aren't we sharing this information with the police?! Why are you doing the work for them?

Why are the police acting like they are the fucking debt collectors and not public servants?

Well, at least Pran is getting his morning cardio in.

I'm not taking this seriously anymore. Now I understand the jokes; it's a way of coping with the absurdity of the situation.

Pran saved his boyfriend's ass, I guess.

Can someone explain to me like I'm five years old what the purpose of this whole thing was? I will expand upon this later.

Is it to show that Wai is okay with their relationship? I got that feeling after Wai asked Pat to step away from the fight the previous night.

Wait a second. Pat got shot, and no one informed Pa, you know, his sister who lives with him?

Okay, Wai and Pat are bantering now?! "My friend almost became a widower there."😂😂 These are not serious people.

God, they're so sweet with each other that it's almost making me forget about what all has transpired.

PAT'S FAMILY FINALLY SHOWED UP. Pa, sweetheart, you could've sent your brother a message that you're coming with your parents to visit him.

Now, why is the father acting like Pran shot Pat? Uncle, I'm sorry, my brain is already fried right now; I can't deal with you and your decades old rivalry at this moment.

Okay, real talk now. I honestly feel a bit let down and disrespected. The series has been building up to something extraordinary, and now I get this?! Did something happen in the writers room? There was an underlying tonal shift almost as if they were laughing at me for taking this show seriously. I mean, someone needs to answer for this. Now, let me try and summarise what all they tried to accomplish this episode:

Everyone in the university knows about their relationship and they face consequences for it.

They wanted Wai to be okay with Pat and Pran being together.

They wanted Pran to face Pat's parents and them being suspicious of his relationship with their son.

Cool, got it. Let's examine how they went about achieving each of these now and how else they could've accomplished the same because honestly this is how I'm feeling right now:

So, the whole university knows that these two guys from all-time rival faculties are now dating, and almost nothing happens? Pat gets treated like an outcast for 2 seconds. I mean, he was selected as class president by his seniors. If they really wanted me to take their faculty rivalry seriously, I would've gotten at least one scene where Pat was forced to make a choice between his relationship with Pran or his position of power in the faculty. I don't know, maybe my expectations were a lot higher for what the fallout for each would be. At least there were some repercussions for Pran dating Pat and keeping it a secret from his friends. The whole response to the reveal felt very anticlimactic (to me).

Now, let's talk about Pat getting shot. It was just unnecessary. Wai was already okay with Pat after Pat intervened in the club when Wai was being mistreated. He would've stopped being mad at Pran eventually and come around about their relationship given some time.

What about Pran running into Pat's parents and them being suspicious of their relationship? Could they have accomplished it without having Pran run into them in the hospital? Yes, I don't know why we are forgetting this, but they live in the same dorms and are neighbors. Given how frequently they have sleepovers, Pat's father could've just dropped by like he did previously in Ep 2, if I'm not wrong, and maybe find some of Pran's things lying around and take it from there. Instead of going through all that, given Pat's dad's propensity for just dropping by the university to meet one of his professor friends, he could've just seen them holding hands on a bench outside, somewhere, anywhere.

We still don't know who actually saw them leave together in Pat's car. Wai didn't recall it when he was going through his montage of Pran lying to my face about his relationship with Pat moments. I thought I'd see Pran's mom at the play because she apparently gets a bat signal whenever her son is near a musical instrument with Pat, but maybe not in this case?

Okay, I'm being snarky now, but it's because I feel duped. Maybe I'm taking this show too seriously, but until Ep 8, the show told me that it wants to be taken seriously. I hope it's just a one-off and they'll find their footing with the next episode.

Tagging the usual suspects: @shortpplfedup, @incandescentflower, @starryalpacasstuff, @7nessasaryevils, @greenteadumplings, @grapejuicegay, @madworld-bbs, @usodeshou, @tao-moonb, @fanatic-freakshow @desi-yearning. If anyone wishes to be tagged in the future, let me know.

[chloe-skywalker]

Love Beyond Limits - Chapter 1

Opie Winston x Sister!Fem!Reader

Wanda Maximoff x Friend!Fem!Reader

Pietro Maximoff x Friend!Fem!Reader

Warnings: SOA, Mob AU

(Don't think any of warnings are in this chapter but there in the over all theme.)

Word Count: 1,449

Summary: Y/n makes the decision to leave Charming, CA. To protect her heart, and move across the country to live with her two friends.

Authors Note: So here it is! Chapter 1 ! I'm so excited for you all to read this, now it does take a while for the story to set up because I didn't want to just jump into it and skip around to much. But Y/n and Mob!Bucky meet in Chapter 3 ! I hope you all enjoy! Check out the series masterlist for all the chapters.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“You’re really going through with this, huh?” Opie spoke up from the doorway to his sister’s bedroom. He knew she talked about possibly leaving Charming, but to see her packing and house up for sale made it official.

Y/n sighed, she didn’t want to cry. She had done enough of that for month’s. “Opie, I need a change. I need to get the hell out of Charming.’

“As much as I don’t want you to leave because I’ll miss you to much… I think it’s for the best you get out of here. At least for a while.” Opie entered her room and sat down on her bed, he understood but he hated it at the same time.

“I’ll miss you, Ope. But I can’t stay.” Y/n looked at her big brother by a year with sadness in her eye’s, pleading with him to not feel differently towards her for leaving.

“You need to protect your heart Y/n/n, I get it.” Opie reached out for her hand, Y/n gave it to him placing her hand in his. Opie squeezed her hand, he hated seeing Y/n’s heartbreak more and more as time went on. Even worse because of his best friend. “I know one of if not the main reason you're leaving is because of Jax.”

“Opie, he's like your brother. I don't want to put you in a hard place with this.” She didn’t want her and Jax’s complicated relationship to mess with her brother's friendship. That was a bond that Y/n didn’t want to break up with all the stuff between her and Jax. Besides with the club and all it’s not like it wouldn’t cause even more problems if they didn’t get along when doing business.

“You're my sister and I don’t want you hurt. He may be my brother but if I need to protect you from him then I will. I know he’s already hurt you. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it.” Opie shook his head, she is his little sister and he couldn’t help but feel guilty that he didn’t protect her earlier. He’d always stand by her side and he had already punched and knocked out Jax for hurting his little sister. But he also knew they were brothers, best friends. It was a situation that came with a lot of complications. But Opie would protect her no matter what, and he was grateful that Y/n was so understanding of the situation.

“I don’t blame you Opie.” Y/n gave him a smile. Opie had no blame in this. “Me and Jax have had something complicated for years. We’ve teased each other, flirted, hell we were each other's first kiss. But when he constantly tells me he wants something more than only to find out right after telling me that everytime he goes and has sex with someone else. Sometimes more than one. . . I’m tired of being used and played.”

“I know that's why I think it’s best for you to go. It’s best for you to go. It’s best for you mentally and it’s best for your heart. I’m just really gonna miss you.” He just wished she wasn’t going away to begin with, that none of this happened to begin with, that Jax could’ve just kept it in his pants or stuck to his word. Opie knew how Jax felt about Y/n and he hated that instead of manning up for her he had pulled all this and ended up hurting his little sister so emotionally that she felt the only thing she could do was leave.

“You can always come visit me. Wherever I end up at any time.” She hoped he would visit her, they had never been apart like this before. At least when he was in jail she could still visit him. He was close by, she was not going to be that close.

“I will.” Opie nodded, promising to not forget about her just because she won’t be in his everyday hectic life, promising to visit her when he can. “Does dad know you're leaving?”

Y/n laughed thinking about their father’s involvement. Y/n let go of his hand to continue packing the last of what she was taking. “Yeah, it was his idea or at least he encouraged my idea of leaving that I had said when rambling.”

“Have an idea of where you're gonna go?” He asked, watching as she packed her stuff.

“Wanda and Pietro are in New York. they keep begging me to visit so I think that’s where I’ll go.” Y/n told him honestly, she knew he’d keep it a secret. Y/n didn’t want to be followed or have anyone show up on her doorstep trying to get her to come back.

Opie nodded sadly. That was far, completely across the country far. He couldn’t protect her in a second's notice now with that much distance between them. “Otherside of the country… Be safe, call me if you need anything.”

Y/n went over to him and pulled him into a tight hug, which Opie stood up in the embrace to fully engulf her. “I promise. Keep in touch.”

“Promise.” He said into her hair, kissing the top of her head.

Y/n pulled back from the hug and ran a hand through her hair. “Look, dad and you are the only ones who know I’m leaving and the only ones who know where. I’d like to keep it that way.”

Opie nodded in understanding. “I figured. I won’t tell.”

“Thank you.” Y/n sent him a grateful smile.

Later that day Y/n left Charming, CA and headed on her way to New York. It took a couple days but Y/n wasn’t in a hurry. Once Y/n got close to New York she contacted Wanda and Pietro telling them she was close by and wanted to visit which her friends eagerly urged her to get there faster.

Y/n informed them she’d be there by tomorrow afternoon. It didn’t take Y/n long to find their apartment building once she got into New York and followed their directions they had sent to her the day before, and when she pulled up she saw them waiting for her outside.

“Oh my God! I’m so happy you’re finally here!” Wanda yelled out excitedly upon Y/n getting out of her car, running over and pulling Y/n into a tight excited hug.

“Yeah, princessa, it’s been to long.” Pietro smiled happily, coming over and pulling Y/n into a hug once his sister had let her go.

“I’ve missed you guy’s to.” Y/n admitted happily, she was so happy to see them again.

“Looks like your whole life’s in the backseat.” Wanda noticed looking into Y/n’s car with a curious question in her eye’s.

“It kinda is.” She let out a light laugh before looking at her friends. “Mind if I crash with you guy’s till I find a place?”

Wanda and Pietro were shocked to hear that she was staying in a more permanent fashion. But with all her stuff packed up in her car it was easy to put together. 

“You can stay forever princessa.” Pietro smirked.

Wanda smacked her brother’s bicep with a smile before wrapping an arm around her friend with a huge smile. “Stay as long as you need or want. It’ll be nice having you around.”

“I appreciate it so much guy’s, thank you.” Y/n told them gratefully as they led her into their building.

“So what’s the plan now you're here?” Pietro wondered as they headed up in the elevator.

“Find a job. Shouldn’t be to hard, I know some people here.” Y/n shrugged.

“That's good. So you plan on staying around?” Wanda nodded in agreement. She was hoping Y/n planned on staying close by if she was going to stay.

“I do. I needed to get away from Charming.” Y/n let out a relieved breath that she didn’t know she needed to let out. Leaving behind the drama of Charming and the drama between her and a certain blue eyed blonde biker.

The 3 friends stepped out of the elevator once it arrived at the Maximoffs floor.

“We know. I’m proud of you. You finally left that town behind, princessa.” Pietro lifted his brow, teasing her as he opened the door.

“Thanks you two.” Y/n was very happy to have them by her side going through this and just all the time.

“Your family, you don’t have to thank us.” Wanda smiled as she pulled the Y/h/c-ed girl into their home.

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Taglist: @padawancat97 @maryvibess @gruffle1 @starkleila @bonnyclydecat

[pyro-les]

A promise to uphold part 1

Radioapple🦆🦌

Warnings: none -1.2k words

A/N: this is the first part of a series which I will post both on here and AO3. First time writing for Hazbin Hotel so sorry if it's a tad ooc

It had been over 100 years since Lillith had left taking Charlie with her, she left Lucifer nothing. Well technically not nothing, she had left him the palace but what was the point of somewhere so big with no one in it? It just made the fact that he was now truly alone even more obvious.

It was because of this that he went searching for something to fill the time and space at home, he searched alot of hell but found nothing new or interesting, everything they had on sale was something he had already owned and was long getting boring by now. Lucifer rarely kept his interest in things for longer than 10 or so years, the only thing that had ever really stuck was creating rubber ducks. He had been creating them since the start of hell, they had always brought him joy and pride, but as the years went on the pride faded and faded, the one person he loved to show them to interest in them had rturned abysmal. Where there was once a soft look of love and amusement on her face there was now only disinterest as she mumbled on about Lucifer wasting all of his time playing around making stupid children's toys instead of actually ruling hid kingdom.

He hadn't made any ducks since Lillith had told Charlie to stop accepting them as gifts.

And that how he found himself now walking the streets of New Orleans searching the human world for something new and fun to distract him. He wandered by shop windows peering inside each one hoping to find something interesting.

"You're not from around here are you?" A voice asked from just behind Lucifer.

He turned to see the person who had spoken standing almost a foot taller than him with a soft smile on his face. Lucifer instinctively smiled back at him with a slight blush as he had to turn his head up to look in the other man's eyes, the human disguise showing the blood rushing to his cheeks red, a poor imitation of his usual crimson beauty marks.

He chuckled lightly before responding, realising that he had been stood here staring at the man for far too long "No, I'm just visiting. I'm trying to find something new to do to fill some of my time."

"I thought as much, I would've recognised such a pretty face." The man spoke cool making Lucifer's blush increase by tenfold. "I'm Alastor, and you are?" He added as he took Lucifer's hand I his own to give it a sweet kiss.

Lucifer definitely was not falling fast.

"I'm Lucian, it's a pleasure to meet you." Lucifer managed to say calmly, shocking even himself. For a man who had been married for along as he had it was shocking how easily he could be turned into a blushing bumbling mess. Perhaps his mental barriers were alot easier to bypass then his physical ones, immune to lethal attacks but not sweet words or harsh insults. Or perhaps it was the fact that throughout the whole time of his infamous relationship with Lillith she had rarely complimented him or even attempted to flirt with him. Maybe this was simply due to her nature, she had a much more physical approach to love or much more often lust. It had been jading to Lucifer at first, him being a creature of pure angelic grace, created not for the heated actions she loved ao much but for creation and passion. And that is the argument she had used against him, that these acts she loved so much were simply her showing her passion for him and much later that it could be for creation too. He hadn't been the fondest of either idea but had played along in fears of losing the only person he had left, in the end it didn't matter anyway though, thousands of years of playing along to her games all for her to leave anyway.

"A pleasure indeed." Alastor replied with a charming smile, snapping Lucifer out of his spiral of depressing thoughts. "So you are looking for something to fill you're time, huh?" He asked smoothly.

"Yes, I've got alot more time on my hands than I used to. Everything at home feels too quiet and empty." Lucifer explained briefly, telling himself not to dump too much depressing information onto Alastor as easily as it would've been. He seemed as though he could tell him anything, that this human he had just met would somehow understand that the palace felt all too lonely, hearing only the echos of Charlie's laughter as he bypassed what had been her bedroom. But he wouldn't say that to him, he didn't want to risk scaring him off.

Alastor hummed for a moment, clearly contemplating something. "Too quiet you say? Well I may have just the thing for that." Excitedly Lucifer asked what it was, the joy clear in hid voice making Alastor chuckle lightly before replying "Why a radio of course! You can listen to it at home while doing anything you'd like, it would keep you entertained and updated with all the important news and any new hit songs all while filling the silence at home."

It was a brilliant idea, this could keep him busy for hours on his own and continue to fill the silence while he does other things too. "That's perfect!" Lucifer exclaimed. "Where do I get one from?" He added on curiously.

"I can gift you one of mine if you so please." Alastor replied with a soft smile.

Lucifer paused, "Why would you do that?" It didn't make sense, he barely knew him and surely he needed it for himself.

Chuckling again Alastor replied easily "It would be useful for you, help fill the silence. Besides I have multiples, I wouldn't miss it so you need not worry about me." Seeing the look on Lucifer's face he added on "If you would like, you could give me something too, make it an exchange?"

This made Lucifer perk up a little more, he wouldn't just take from this mortal but a deal he could make. "What would you like?"

Alastor didn't hesitate for even a moment, clearly already knowing what he wanted "To listen to my radio show. It will debut this Friday and I would love to know I have even just one devoted listener." His excitement died down while he spoke, turning more into doubt as he tried to disguise it with a smile. Lucifer didn't know much about radio or Alastor but from what he did know he was sure that people would listen to anything that Alastor said, his voice was soft and smooth and combined with his undeniable charm it was entrancing. Surely he would get countless listeners in no time, but still the doubt in his voice hit a soft spot in lucifer, he vowed to himself then and there that he would never miss a broadcast. He didn't know what it was about Alastor but something about him was different, important and he for some strange reason would do anything he asked of him.

Lucifer smiled at Alastor and truthfully replied "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

[viviennevermillion]

ᴀᴅᴏᴘᴛɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴘᴇᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ♡

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contains: character x gn! reader, pets are allowed in the dorms in this one

characters included: kalim, epel, idia, malleus

warnings: none

Kalim is ecstatic about this idea. The first time you suggest this to him, he's so happy; smiling brightly at you and spinning you around in a hug.

He instantly wants to tell Jamil all about it. The latter is a little concerned about Kalim's ability to take care of a small animal; remembering all the times Kalim struggled to take care of himself without Jamil needing to step in.

"Oh we could adopt a camel! Or an elephant!", Kalim is already looking up suitable pet names on the internet. You take his hand in yours and squeeze it. "Kalim, my dear, I was thinking more of....you know...something the average person can actually take care of", you explain carefully and sigh.

The two of you eventually decide on getting a puppy. Very fitting for Kalim, whom you have once referred to as "the human version of a golden retriever".

You know that scene in the beginning of "Bolt" where Penny picks up puppy Bolt for the first time? That's Kalim, walking into the pet shop and staring at the puppies with such a bright, happy gleam in his eyes. You can't help but want to capture this moment, so you take a photo of him; Kalim gladly indulging you. He smiles into the camera whilst holding one of the small dogs up, petting it gently.

"So...got your eyes on one yet?", you ask, pressing a kiss to Kalim's cheek.

Kalim is gonna take home the puppy that's most active out of the ones in the bunch, much to Jamil's disapproval. But Kalim can hardly say no to his newfound little friend, the way the puppy immediately brings him one of the toys running around and expects Kalim to play with it.

Kalim loves that dog so much the second he takes it home. He loves cuddling it and playing with it. Sadly, though to no one's surprise, Kalim has absolutely 0 grasp on the dog and it will not perceive him as an authority figure whatsoever. If you want it to be potty trained, to stop jumping up and down at people due to excitement and not steal the other dorm member's shoes and chew on them? Congrats, that's your job now!

Kalim and you often take walks with your puppy.

It sleeps in Kalim's room so when you're staying over, holding Kalim in your arms and trying to sleep in on the weekends; expect a small dog to join you in your attempts to cuddle or try to catch your attention.

Kalim picked the most stubborn, active dog they had and now you're going to have to try and get it to listen to you. Crowley already complained 5 times.

Epel would love the idea of adopting a pet with you. He has a soft spot for animals. He's just worried about his dorm leader and knows that Vil would hardly be keen on the idea of having a pet at Pomefiore dorm. So if possible, the pet will stay with you most of the time.

Epel holds your hand all the way to the pet shop. "Okay, so, I'll need something that won't make a lot of noise, won't carry Vil's belongings anywhere, won't 'mess up my makeup' apparently and something that preferably doesn't walk around the dorm", Epel sighs and looks around the store.

His choice is made when he looks at the bunnies they have for sale. Epel used to have bunnies as a kid and he still likes them and finds them cute.

You chuckle after looking around the store alone for a while, finding your boyfriend near the bunny cage, holding a small, white rabbit that seems to have fallen asleep on his arm. "This one", he says excitedly.

Epel would refuse to name his bunny something "cutesy". You'll have to deal with name suggestions such as "Skullcrusher" and "Thundering Fury".

He's so happy to share this experience with you.

When he brings the bunny back to the dorm for the first time, Rook makes an off-handed comment about 'hunting', causing Epel to clutch the small creature and shield it from Rook. "Leave skullcrusher alone, I'm warning you", Epel tells him and Vil raises an eyebrow. "You named it skullcrusher?", his disappointment is obvious with his tone and he turns to you, "and you didn't stop him?" You shrug and smile. "He seemed very happy."

Epel takes good care of the rabbit and he loves sitting on the couch, snuggled up to you, holding the little bunny in his arms.

He wants to make its enclosure as nice as possible for it, buying little toys and tunnels to keep it entertained.

Panics if it ever escapes and runs around the dorm. Partly because he's scared he won't find it again or that it might get hurt, partly because Vil is NOT going to like that.

"Calm down", you put a hand on his shoulder, "we try all possible options first before we panic." You grab your things and start looking with him.

He's very relieved when your shared pet is back in your care. Vil actually found it and handed it to Epel. "Next time, keep a better eye on it", the Pomefiore dorm leader sighs; not seeming nearly as mad as Epel had insisted he'd be.

Epel takes you home over the holidays and brings your bunny with him, showing it to his parents and his grandmother. They reminisce about the time Epel used to have bunnies as a kid and show you the pictures of Epel as a young boy. "Y/n, we're so happy Epel brought you over for the holidays- oh, look, and here's him trying to eat the sand cake he made in the sandbox!", his mother exclaimed, resulting in Epel gesturing frantically. "Don't show them that!"

Your bunny just observes you quietly.

For Idia it's instantly clear that you're getting a cat. He's so excited about the idea, given how much he loves cats.

Also one who starts thinking of names before you even go to the store to get a cat, but simultaneously he's worried that he's going to settle on a name but then it won't fit. "It needs to be clever and accurate", he insists, explaining to you the list of names of his favorite game characters, "for example, this character, in the game, has a forehead mark on his face. So if the cat has a spot with white fur on its forehead, this name would make sense." "You're putting way too much thought into this...", you mumble and run a hand through his hair.

One of the few instances where you don't have to convince him to show up only with his tablet instead of in person. "We're making a major decision here. I cannot make judgement half-heartedly", Idia holds your hand and stays close to you as you walk through the village on the island towards the pet store. "But for the dorm leader meetings where major decisions about the school are being made the tablet suffices?", you chuckle and raise an eyebrow. "The normies are capable of handling these. The task of naming our cat is one that demands precision, wits and top tier gamer spirit."

Idia is ecstatic about the cats. Not so much about the store clerk who keeps trying to give him advice. "I- I'm sure we can pick on our own", he tries to shake him off as he shows Idia and you the cats with a friendly smile, "y/n say something please." The last part he whispers and you let out a sigh. "We'll call out to you once we've picked one. My boyfriend is a bit shy", you explain and Idia looks at you with wide eyes. "Don't say that", he whispers as the store clerk tends to other customers.

Idia picks a calm and quiet cat, perhaps a little on the chubbier side; one that seems sleepy and starts to purr and close it's eyes when Idia holds it in his arms. He also instantly finds a name from one of his games that fit the kitten. "See, that wasn't too hard, was it?", you press a kiss to his cheek. "You're right", he hands you the kitten so that you can hold it too for a while, "as soon as I saw it, I knew instantly."

Idia lets the cat sleep in his bed and you two often end up cuddling with it at night. He picked a very affectionate one.

When Trein reprimands him for not coming to class in person and catches him playing games instead of paying attention in the lesson, Idia insists he'll show up in person only if he can bring the cat for comfort. Because Trein has a cat himself, he lets him.

What Idia hasn't calculated in was the fact that small, cute kittens tend to attract a crowd of students asking to pet it. So he ends up surrounded by his classmates, stuttering about how his cat needs its peace and quiet. You have mercy on him and take the cat from his arms, dealing with the students in his stead.

The cat also starts a fight with Lucius, which Trein insists "could never be Lucius' fault". Idia doesn't know how to handle the conflict.

Needless to say, Idia was even more set on not coming to class in person after that. While you are sitting in class, you often receive text messages from your boyfriend, consisting of dozens of cat pictures and videos.

"Look at it, y/n! Isn't it cute?", he texts and you glance to the board to make sure Trein doesn't catch you texting in class. "Yes it is. I see it every day, Idia." "The magic of cats never fades."

For Malleus and you, the decision to adopt a pet was a spontaneous one. You two snuck out without the knowledge of his guards, something you insisted in front of Lilia was an activity you "definitely did not do frequently", and now you wandered the small settlement on the Isle of Sages.

Malleus was going on and on about an abandoned building you saw on the way here and you mused how cute he looked eating his ice cream with a small plastic spoon, his fangs flashing everytime he opened his mouth.

You looked around and passed by the pet store. From the window, you could see inside; observing a small iguana staring at you from the window display.

"Malleus....", you start, the fae prince turning around to check what you were looking at, seeing you point at the creature, "impulsive question, but what do you think about getting one of those?"

Malleus puts his finger at his chin and thinks about it for a while. At first he doesn't get what the point is, as a pet like this lives maybe 25 years if you're lucky and this seems very short for him. You remind him that he has had GaoGao Dragon-kun for even less and it still brought him a lot of joy he's glad to have and Malleus has to agree that you have a point.

"We could take care of it together", you say.

Oh boi

You don't know what you kicked loose.

Malleus perceives this as like, a very big bonding experience with his beloved that will bring you so much closer and prepare you for one day taking care of an entire kingdom together; something he definitely thinks about frequently and is more than ready for.

"Very well then! I would love this very much", he smiles and presses a kiss to your temple. So it's decided.

You come back to the dorm with a terrarium and a small iguana in your arms and the brightest smile on your face as you see Lilia. "We impulsively decided to raise a pet together", Malleus exclaims proudly. Lilia is just looking back and forth between you and Malleus and sighs. He doesn't even know how to break it to the queen yet that her grandson has fallen in love and here he is adopting a pet and probably planning his wedding in his head.

Malleus is super careful with your pet because he knows he's sometimes having trouble estimating his own strength. He holds it super careful and he's very pleased that it's not afraid of him.

He names it GaoGao Dragon-kun. You mostly call it Drakon but Malleus always addresses it by the full name. You go to the vet for the first time and she's like,,, trying to set up a file for your pet and she's like "what's its name?" and there's Prince Malleus Draconia who has to duck under the doorframe to enter the vet's office and made the entire waiting room silent with just his presence and he very seriously answers "GaoGao Dragon-kun" and the assistant of the vet just sighs and makes herself another large cup of coffee.

notes: trying to get used to writing shorter headcanons again because i want to post more often and like, my old shorter headcanons were fine. also just got my wisdom teeth removed (ouch) so expect headcanons about twst characters comforting you after wisdom teeth surgery.

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