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#look i trust that the book is probably better
feroshgirlsims · 2 days
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Chapter 4.3 - Dating for Weirdos
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Alice feels like her brain has been scrambled. How did she end up on a date with some dude who didn’t think she was worth any effort? Her self-esteem was…well, her self-esteem was in the toilet, but still! She had her pride!
Although, probably not enough of it. 
Reasonably, she shouldn’t be afraid. Vlad was not going to lose his shit just because her tone was too sharp, and if he did, she could just leave this date.
Unreasonably, she avoids his gaze and swallows down her rant.
Fucking muscle memory. 
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“I’m trying valiantly," Vlad says gently. 
“What?” 
"I want to be the least shit version of myself on this date,” he continues, looking pained, “But even that version leaves a lot to be desired. I’m a difficult sim to be around, and so far, despite skipping my Civil Procedure class today to read a self-help book on using imagination to increase my charisma, I fear I’ve failed.”
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Trying and failing is something Alice is pretty familiar with. And Vlad doesn’t lack charisma, per se. It was just kind of hidden behind his aura of “find out even if you don’t fuck around.” 
“What was the advice?” she asks, giving him what she hopes is a friendly smile. 
“Imagine a better version of myself,” he smirks, “And introduce you to it.”
“Kind of shit advice,” Alice murmurs. 
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Vlad laughs, and she relaxes, “Ok, so was this the introduction to the newly developed, less shitty version of your personality, or do you have something else planned for later?"
“Usually, I’m better prepared, but no, this mediocre showing is the best I could come up with.”
“I give it a 4 out of 10,” Alice scrunches up her face, “Which makes me sort of concerned about your future as an attorney who needs to sway a jury.”
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As soon as the words fly out of her mouth, anxiety pools in her stomach. But Vlad simply throws back his head and guffaws. 
“Very fair,” he concludes, wiping the tears from his eyes, “I don’t ever plan to practice law, but even if I did, I’m not worried about manipulating a jury of my peers.”
“Why not?”
“Universally, sims are stupid when they get into groups, and I have no problem lying. The hard part is that I want you to know the truth of me and like it.”
“Oh, I…” Alice jolts at his expression. Even guys she’s really liked have never looked at her with that sort of intensity.
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“Ask me a question. Trust me, you'll know immediately if you have any interest in seeing me again.”
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Alice hesitates. She could ask something basic to confirm that Vlad is a normal sim, but it’s pretty clear that the answer to that question is no. And the last time she fell for normal, it gave her a black eye.
“If you had any supernatural power, what would it be?”
“Paralyzing sims with fear and the ability to become a sentient mist so I could leave any conversation.” He taps a finger to his lip, “And enough strength to crush someone’s bones.”
“Messy,” Alice giggles. “What are you gonna do with all that bone dust?”
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“I’m envisioning crushing their bones inside their body so it’d be more like a hearty stew as opposed to a pile of dust.”
“You would eat them?”
He shrugs. “Waste not, want not.”
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It is an absolutely wild answer. Alice flashes him a grin. “The power to turn sims into mushy take-out meals. Got it.”
“And what about you?”
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“I’m not turning sims into bone soup.”
The corner of his mouth tilts up. “You can't. As we’ve discussed, that power has already been taken. Might I suggest flight or rotting someone’s flesh with the snap of a finger?”
Alice laughs, and just like that, her appetite returns with a vengeance. “I like the true you,” she says as the waitress sets down Vlad’s order.
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He smiles and begins dividing everything in half, shoveling it onto an empty plate that Alice didn’t even notice was on the table. He slides it over to her. “I’m relieved. Now, the pancakes are to die for and I promise no sims have been harmed in the making of this food.”
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PREV | NEXT
(Part 3 of 4)
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waywardsalt · 3 months
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ive been rereading tnp and it’s bothering me so much i need to mention it here; it’s kind of insane how much the erins bend over backwards to make brambleclaw deputy, it’s kind of just nonsensical.
not even him not having an apprentice when he’s picked, though that is kind of wild, he just… there’s basically no good reason other than him being a main pov character and tigerstar’s son. literally any other thunderclan warrior who’s had an apprentice (barring maybe ashfur) would have been a better choice. thornclaw dustpelt sandstorm cloudtail brackenfur- brackenfur is one that firestar explicitly considers and the reasoning why he decides not to is so incredibly weak ‘oh i dont think he’d be right for leader’ number one what are you talking about number 2 then use him being deputy as an opportunity to help him become right for leader are you telling me firestar thinks the cat he once considered letting die in a fire is a better fit for leader than the cat he half mentored. dustpelt is clearly an experienced warrior, sandstorm is someone firestar obviously has faith in, thornclaw is experienced and i’m pretty sure you even see firestar consult him a few times (cloudtail is iffy bc thats cloudtail but he’d really be a better choice, just how he treats daisy and her kits would be an interesting justification for firestar making him second-in-command) but honestly besides the narrative jumping through hoops to act like the other very viable options are either secretly bad choices or otherwise ignore them (why is bramble the only cat we ever see jump to help firestar with stuff they just wrote everyone else to be silent or w/e) but in twilight where he arguably acts the most like de-facto deputy in leaf and squirrel’s pov he’s framed as a jackass half the book??? why would you do that if you intend to make him actual leader?? in his trial run of being kinda-not-deputy you just make him use his semi-authority to be cold and fucking mean to his friend and her buddy??? like i see him being qualified due to having experience being the travel group’s leader and whatnot, but barely anything else is done to make him realistically more qualified than anyone else- he just angsts about his ambitions and gets handed the position because starclan vouched for him for some damn reason even though by his society’s laws he should not be in that position
#sorry its just really bothering me bc i am NOT seeing why he should be deputy#warrior cats#salty talks#the new prophecy#i dont hate tnp i just hate the bramble wants to be deputy plot he does not deserve that shit#not even on the level of him being a shitty guy or anything he literally should not have been picked#its probably the most egregious example of the authors just forcing a plot point instead of like. building it up realistically#literally in twilight he just comes off like he’s going to be a cold distant asshole as deputy it’s not a good look#opposed to firestar being deputy gaining his position while qualified and also through the understandable logic of bluestar’s mental state#fire just picks bramble be leafs like hey starclan says so and fires like oh ok even tho he’s literally not qualified#and also barely seems like he’d be a good choice anyways despite having been a main pov character#yes im complaining abt bad writing in the Bad Writing Cat Books leave me alone this is bothering me#adding while i read sunset; i will concede that this one does a better job building him up as possible deputy with the trust he’s given#its still just. why him (besides him being the mc) why is no one else given this trust or somewhat filling this role the same way#i feel like it would be more interesting if someone else got chosen over bramble and he had to be at peace with that#instead of oh he gets what he wants yayyy. idk switch the fox trap scene to hawkfrost trapping the new deputy#i feel like bramble not being deputy would be interesting like helps him realize that he doesnt need to be in a position of power#for his clanmates to trust him and rely on him if hes still worried abt the tigerstar’s kin thing and maybe confront tigerstar abt it
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krysmcscience · 9 days
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Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:
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The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.
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Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.
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It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.
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Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄
Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.
also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh
⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️
Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D
Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.
Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:
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'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.
you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH
And, finally:
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lmao this is shit
True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.
Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD
Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D
Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)
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alexanderwales · 2 months
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"I don't think I could have the relationship with you that you have with me," she said. She was very casual about it, and I was immediately on the defensive.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked.
She put the book she'd been reading down. "It's just, the way you've described it, and the vibe that I get, I don't think I could do it how you do it."
"I still don't know what that means," I said.
"You're always doing this like ... micro calculation thing," she said. "You weigh your words. You try to time things. You have never once called me up while I was at work, or asked me for something when it was inconvenient for me, and you check and double check that you're not being a nuisance."
"And ... that's bad?" I asked.
"No, I love that about you," she said. "It's very kind and considerate. I know that if I tell you I'm not in the mood to hang out, you'll apologize and not push it. If you suggest that we get pizza and I say I'd rather have Korean BBQ, you fold instantly and we get Korean BBQ. I like that. I get the things I want. But it seems like an exhausting way to deal with people."
"I want you to be happy," I said with a small voice.
"I am happy," she replied. "You're great. You remember when we first got together I was like 'hey, look, if you want pizza, we can get pizza, it's just not what I'm in the mood for', and you kept insisting that you didn't care, that you would rather have me follow my needs? And I just thought, 'you know, maybe I should just trust that's what they actually feel'. And it is, as far as I can tell. There's not some secret part of you that wants me to break your way."
"You think I'm ... a simpering coward?" I asked. Even as I said it, it felt too accusatory, the wrong thing to say in the situation.
"Whoa, no, not at all," she laughed. "I think you do all that stuff because ... I don't know, you want to? Because otherwise why would you do it? It's how you are with every aspect of your life, you're a tryhard. I mean you said to me that you wanted to reclaim the term. Your relationship with me is that you're a tryhard (affectionate)."
"And you're ... not?" I asked.
"I'm not that way with anyone," she replied. "You know why I hang out with you so much? It's 'cause I like you. Most days, I am very much in the mood for you, and if you ask for a meetup, I'll say yes, and if you don't ask for one, then I'll ask you first. And for you ..."
"What?" I asked.
"It's like ... you're keeping track," she said. "You want to make sure that you're not sending me more messages than I'm sending you. You're balancing social micro stuff that I don't pay attention to. You're consciously monitoring how much each of us has said and making sure it's the right number of words or whatever."
"It's really not about the number of words," I replied. "It's more ... making sure that social and emotional labor is equitable, that there's a good rhythm to the conversation. I don't think you'd get good results by tracking word count."
"But see, I don't do any of that," she said. "I talk because I feel like talking. I listen when you need to vent because I like you and it feels good to give you an outlet. I mean you are undoubtedly putting in a bunch of work, and for me, there's no work. That's all I meant, really."
"You've thought about it," I said.
"Oh, I'm just reading this book, and there are two characters like us in it, and I was like 'yes, exactly', and then 'that would not work for me'." She shrugged.
"And if I stopped 'putting in the work'?" I asked. "Would we still be ... friends?"
"See, I don't know," she said. "Because that's never who you've been. You're asking me if I would still be friends with you if you changed your personality and how we interact with each other. Maybe? Probably? Who knows? Maybe we'd be better friends somehow. Maybe we're just two basically compatible people, and every time you've ever worried about anything it would actually have been completely fine."
"Or maybe it's load-bearing," I said.
"Maybe!" she replied with a smile that slowly faded. "You okay?"
"I'm thinking," I said. I didn't know if I could verbalize what I was thinking in a way that would be palatable.
"Do you not like being this way with me?" she asked. "Because I have never asked you to. I've made my preferences known, but if you've been bending yourself into knots and feeling a burden, then ..."
"No," I said, because I knew it was what she wanted to hear. "No, I like the way things are between us."
"Good," she smiled. "I do too."
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suiana · 2 months
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yandere! hair barber who thinks of himself of your only one. the only one to touch your hair, the only one to love you. i mean, you trust him with something as important as your hair! of course you love him too, don't you?
so when you come for a suspiciously late hair appointment with a fresh look, he knows something's up.
"hey dude, yeah, my usual-"
"your hair. did someone touch it?"
"what? no no dude haha! could never cheat on you-"
"you usually come in every 3 weeks. this time you came after 6 weeks. with a fresh cut and new look. don't lie to me. did. someone. touch. your. hair?"
this guy gets so irrationally jealous, like, you'd think he's your boyfriend with how he acts but he's actually not. he is your boyfriend, you just don't know it yet.
"um... yeah. sorry dude! you were just fully booked 3 weeks bac and jason down the road was open so i-"
"i knew it. you cheated on me. and with jason of all people? wow, i didn't know you were into guys like that. you're planning on breaking my heart even more? at least choose a better barber! hell, just cut it yourself if you were so desperate."
"w-what?"
bro gets sulky as hell. he'll probably just have you sit in the salon chair while he complains about you cheating on him until he gets it all out of his system.
and if you ever try leaving while he's talking, be prepared to be bamboozled when he suddenly holds you back by your hair, eyes delirious as he gets all up in your personal space.
"are you trying to leave again? going to run back to the c grade barber are we?"
"no what-"
"you don't get to leave me. not after you cheated on me 3 weeks ago. i'll overlook it for now. but if you ever try anything like that again i might as well just take your freedom away and have you become my stay at home lover."
"l-lover?!"
oops, he forgot that you two weren't officially dating yet. oh well, guess you two are dating now!
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pornstar! hobie brown x pornstar! reader | (obviously nsfw)
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
☆ pornstar! hobie brown whose name you've heard floating around your feed since your first appearance. The one who you've been dying to get in touch with, but feared that your small following wouldn't interest him, like some of the others you've asked.
☆ pornstar! hobie brown, a veteran in the game, and by what you've heard is one of the best fucks some of the most seasoned creators have ever had.
☆ yeah, that same pornstar! hobie brown that just messaged you asking if you were down to collaborate with him one day.
☆ pornstar! hobie brown who had you screaming into your sheets and kicking your feet cause not only does he knows you exist, he wants to collab!
☆ pornstar! hobie brown who you immediately said yes to.
☆ pornstar! hobie brown and you then stayed up all night discussing the location, time, equipment, condoms, toys etc. you know the good stuff. he was surprisingly thorough, most people you've collaborate with just wanted to make sure you were clean and had a good camera.
☆ pornstar! hobie brown who when he showed up in the lobby of the hotel he booked, took your breath away. the man was ridiculously gorgeous. not to mention thay voice. god, fuck me sideways he's hot asf.
☆ pornstar! hobie brown took the initiative to started up some small talk as you made your way to the room. he could tell you were nervous, since you were much more talkative on the phone. and he could hear the excitement in your voice. but now you couldn't even look him in the eye. guess he's gonna have to do his best to ease your nerves.
☆ pornstar! hobie brown offered to do most of the heavy lifting like the setting up the cameras, lights, sanitizing the sheets, just whatever prep was needed. all he wanted from you was to get relaxed and ready.
☆ pornstar! hobie brown who started you off with a slow heated makeout session. he was a damn good kisser, and his lip piercing made the experience even better. he told you to guide his hands to wherever you wanted them. his hands were much bigger than yours, but still his palms were soft and warm to the touch.
☆ pornstar! hobie brown who's breath hitched once you directed one of his hands to cup your clothed cunt. you both stared at each other, both afraid to make any sudden moves.
☆ pornstar! hobie brown did his best to ensured you times that ""jus' say the word love, and all this stops. i won' be disappointed ok?" even though he said it with a half hearted tone, his gaze in his eyes was serious. the last thing he wanted was for you to force yourself.
☆ pornstar! hobie brown who was doing his best to ignore the mind numbing throb in his pants, as he waited on your response. you then moved his hand pass the waistband of your panties, so he could put his finger in between your folds. once he did, his eyes grew slightly wide. you were soaked.
☆ pornstar! hobie brown who you had to now ensure you were ready. "trust me I want this as much as you do, i promise i do". and with the simplest nod, he went to work.
☆ pornstar! hobie brown, that you found out was a real pussy drunk, had used his tongue to push pass your folds and was now tongue deep in your cunt. his hands pressed your hips further into his face anytime you even squirmed in the slightest. its not like you could help it. he sent the first few minutes searching your inner walls for the spot that made you cry out the loudest. and once he did it was hell to get him off it.
☆ the man, pornstar! hobie brown, was a messy ass eater. you could hear as he suckled hard on your clit. how whenever needed a break would just run his pressed tongue along your slit. and how he would groan whenever your walls tried to push out his tongue whenever you reached your peak.
☆ pornstar! hobie brown who reminded you to breathe as you struggled to ease in his length. he knew it would probably be a tight fit, that's why he made sure to coat your cunt with slick and spit before he tried. "don' worry jus' breathe love. shhh i know, but imma need you to relax for me. no it will fit, jus' stay with me now".
☆ pornstar! hobie brown who loved to give you face a light tap whenever your eyes would roll back or you mumbled to him when he asked you a question. he would most definitely grab your chin if he caught you staring at the camera instead of him. he knows it's for the optics, but hell he's the one fucking you dumb, so eyes on him. "don' focus on them. 'm right 'ere love. set thos' pretty eyes on me. trust me please baby. just you and me"
☆ pornstar! hobie brown that loves to run his fucking mouth. you almost told him to shut up, especially since he realized how your walls would pulse around him whenever he so much as let out a groan. what can he say, if he sees an opportunity to make you cum, he'll do whatever it takes.
☆ speaking of cum, pornstar! hobie brown who tell you to open your legs wider so the camera can get a good shot of the mess your cunt made of your inner thighs and his dick. "let 'em see baby, aw look at that. oh i kno' they gonna be so proud of you, but probably not as proud as me. good girl, lemme clean you off." yes he gave you a tongue bath.
☆ pornstar! hobie brown who just by fucking you to the edge in some random hotel room, helped you blow up practically overnight. don't be surprised if he hits you up for a part 2. (he would even if there was no camera)
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ladycaramelswirl · 3 months
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definitely not old
Aaron Hotchner x Reader
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A/N: Did I create an extremely improbable scenario just to suit my need to create another highly improbable scenario? Yes. Do I care that it’s unrealistic? No. Please forgive any typos/ grammatical errors. 
CW: suggestive content, but not explicit (like 15+?). Use of y/n one time. (Technically this would probably warrant one of those hostile workplace environment seminars like they had for Derek and Penelope. But it’s funny? Idk this isn’t serious.) Sassy Hotch. Crack plot tbh. 
Also I know the timeline doesn’t really make sense, because JJ is a profiler and Emily and Rossi exist, but I imagined Season 1 Spencer while writing this! I guess it’s 2005? Btw I do not know how tapes work, so just pretend it makes sense please. This is so unserious. 
Summary: reader wife and Hotch are private people; the BAU team is nosy. Spencer is just constantly in the right place at the wrong time. 
Enjoy!
——————
The screen in front of you depicted horror - just not the kind the BAU was used to. The UnSub had confessed to leaving a message in an old tape. He had already been arrested, but you were all hoping it might contain something that might help the conviction stick. Only he was extremely paranoid, so not only had he left the message in a code, but he had spliced it into a tape he thought people were least likely to watch. His p***. It was the last thing to do for the case and everyone was trying to help. You all sit at the round table, and Spencer shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. Derek laughs at his shyness and Emily laughs at the very unrealistic movements. She and JJ tilt their heads at the shape the two on the screen have put themselves into. 
“That does not look comfortable”, JJ mocks. 
The words are out of your mouth before you think. “Trust me it’s not”. 
Everyone at the table snaps their heads to look at you. 
“Damn Mama”, Derek laughs. “Who are you doing these moves with?”
You try to hold back a laugh. You were not ready to share about your sex life with your colleagues, no matter how close you were. Plus you’re pretty sure Aaron would not appreciate it. 
“That is inappropriate workplace conversation”, you say, pausing the video. “And you’re going to miss the next series of code”, you tell him, trying to get him to revert his attention back to the video. Emily grins at your attempted evasion.
“We already got all the code. She just doesn’t want us to tell Hotch she’s capable of all that. Doesn’t want to make the old man feel bad”.
“He’s not old. He’s only 5 years older than you”, you remind her. She puts a hand on her chest in mock offense like you’ve stabbed her. You roll your eyes. “And this is still inappropriate”.
“So it wasn’t Hotch”, Derek laughs. 
“You’re just annoyed because you haven’t tried it yourself”, you deflect, moving to sit next to Spencer who seems to actually be doing his job. 
“I’ve seen her do yoga and she’s very flexible, so if she couldn’t do it I don’t think you can”, JJ tells Morgan. 
“Oh you have no idea what I’m capable of”, he teases, which earns laughs from around the table. “I’m better than the old man for sure”. They all start laughing and talking about you and Hotch. 
You roll your eyes. “Wasn’t old in bed last night”, you mutter under your breath. You startle at the sound of a book hitting the floor and see Spencer’s bright red face. JJ, Derek and Emily look over in curiosity at what they might have missed, but you ignore them, attempting to give Spencer an apology for making him uncomfortable. He moves to drink his coffee in an attempt to avoid more of the conversation. Only he chokes on it because Hotch enters the room. 
“Have you finished working out the code?”
Everyone’s heads snap to him - JJ, Emily and Derek wearing matching grins. Hotch eyes you patting a coughing Spencer’s back.
“Are you alright?”, he asks. 
“Yes! Good! I’m good!”, Spencer squeaks, afraid Hotch is going to ask him why he’s so nervous. Aaron looks to you for some answers but before you can tell him it’s nothing, Spencer suddenly stands up.
“Got the code! Going to call the local PD. DA is waiting”, he warbles before you all watch him run out of the room. Hotch turns back to the rest of you. 
“Well then that wraps it up. Go home now, get some rest”, he instructs. Everyone starts packing up. You and Hotch walk towards the door when he realises there’s only 6 of you in the room. 
“Where’s Dave?”, he asks.
You’re about to tell him Rossi went to the bathroom when the Italian walks back in. Rossi immediately notes the paused video.
“Wow that looks uncomfortable”, he remarks. Everyone smirks in your direction. Hotch snakes an arm around your waist and looks at the screen. Then at you. 
“It was, wasn’t it?”
He smiles at the jaws dropping to the floor. 
“Good night everyone”.
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A little bonus scene:
In his office later:
“You heard us talking before you came in the room didn’t you”, you question your husband. He was so private, he wouldn’t have said something like that otherwise. 
“They called me old”, Aaron grumbles, but his tone is amused. “Just wanted to shock them a little”.
You make your way over to his side of the desk, pulling him to stand up beside you. 
“Well Agent Hotchner, I have to tell you, there’s been some speculation about your performance”, you taunt. “Care to prove them wrong?”
“Last night wasn’t enough proof?”, he laughs raising an eyebrow. You run your hands up his chest and behind his neck, pulling him close. 
“The results were inconclusive”, you tease. He grabs your hips and traps you between himself and his desk, his mouth trailing kisses down your jaw. 
“Well I can’t have that kind of speculation going around”, he murmurs into your skin. Your breath hitches from the sensation of his lips on the sensitive spot on your neck. But instead of continuing, he pulls away and meets your eyes in a conspiratorial grin. “We should do an in house evaluation as soon as possible”.
You open your mouth to reply when the door swings open, Spencer finding you sandwiched between Hotch’s thighs and your blouse rumpled. His mouth drops open and suddenly all 187 iq points mean nothing when his brain loses function.
“Oh- I- um- sorry!”, he manages before running away. You stare at the slammed door then back at Aaron and burst into giggles. He drops his head to your shoulders and sighs. 
“I feel like a teenager”, he groans.
“At least you don’t feel old.”
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Bonus bonus: 
Still in the conference room: 
“I want to go back to 10 minutes ago when I didn’t know this information”, Emily moans. 
“I think I need 5 more minutes before I can form a coherent thought”, JJ laughs in disbelief. Spencer walks back in.
“I finished my report. Where’s Hotch and y/n? Can we go home?”
“Probably doing it in his office for all we know”, Derek mutters.
Spencer’s brows furrow in confusion. “Doing what in his office?”
Rossi raises an eyebrow at Emily. “Is this kid serious?”
She shrugs back at him. 
“Spence, Hotch says we can go home. But you should probably report about what local PD told you before you go”, JJ tells him.
Spencer nods and makes his way to Hotch’s office. The rest of the team watch him walk away.
“You think we should have told him to knock before going in?”
“Probably.”
The sound of a high pitch yelp and the slam of an office door echo down the hallway. 
“Oops.”
——————
thank you for reading :)
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Text
Well, I did it
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Megatron - I love his tfp design. Probably one of the best iteration of Megs. He is huge, heavy armoured, his face covered with scars… He doesn’t looks like an ordinary military leader who is only capable of giving orders, but like real warrior who can destroy any enemy with his bare hands.
So, in the WOF version, he definitely shares some features with Princess Burn, not only because of his might, but also because of his horns shape and dirty-dark scales (that absorbed blood of his enemies)
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Starscream - Boy, I hate him so much 🤣… but in the good way, trust me! In my opinion, when the show's creators make you feel such strong negative emotions towards a villain, it means they've done a great job. Also, I think that his animation in the show was absolutely incredible, because even though he's a 3D model, he still manages to move like a 2D character, which is amazing!
I feel that in my design he still looks more like a skywing, than an icewing (which is kinda logical)
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Soundwave - This one was tricky. I couldn't figure out what his mask would look like, so I just made his face a really dark color. I think Soundwave has both gifts of the nightwings, and he’s equally great at telepathy and a future vision. So he doesn't really need equipment to predict enemy movements, which makes him an ideal communicator in the WOF setting. His Laserbeak is part of the armor enchanted by Shockwave, and it might also allow him to open portals (but I'm not sure with this one)
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Shockwave - My favourite evil genius. He would definitely have animus magic and mind reading. I think Shockwave is the only one who has advanced the study of magic so far, precisely because he combined it with scientific knowledge and created safer methods of using it, that don't damage the mind. It's like if a Mastermind got animus magic in books.
I also like to think that he didn't heal the damaged part of his face just so that his enemies would fear him more)
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Dreadwing - This man deserved better! It's really a shame that he was removed from the show so quickly due to financial problems. It would be great if his arc got a proper conclusion in season 3.
Considering that I didn't want to make him a hybrid, it was difficult to choose a suitable color palette. So let’s just say, that I tried my best😅
I don’t think that he would have any nightwing powers, but honestly it doesn’t even matter - this guy can make a bombs, what else does he need to be cool
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Arachnid - Did anyone even doubt that she would be a hivewing? Damn, she even got her own “Othermind” virus. Her design was the easiest to work with - just a little poisonous ass (suspiciously similar to Maleficent).
Just like Starscream, I hate her, but in a good way. She's one of the creepiest characters in the entire series, who’s acting like a fucking heartless monster, especially with Arcee, but even so, there's always was something mesmerizing about her. I just really like strong female villains
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Knockout - Wery bright and charismatic guy, definitely one of my fav cons!
I tried to draw him as handsome as possible. Worked a lot on the face shape and coloring, and as for me it turned out pretty nice (finally).
Most decepticons think Knockout is as stupid and lazy as all the other rainwings. And it's not like he completely disagrees with that. Of course he’s not stupid and lazy, but if it’s means less dirty work on the battlefield, well, he’ll continue act like a tipical rainwing
(I also believe that Megatron keeps him as an “art”)
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Breakdown - Fun fact: "Operation Breakdown" was the very first thing I saw in this series. And it was an interesting experience for 8 year old me. Maybe that's why I'm so scared of eye gouging scenes in movies now…
I think that he didn't have any siblings initially due to his parents nature, and even after meeting Bulkhead, he felt uncomfortable among the other mudwings. And this is why he later chose the side of the decepticons. And maaaaybe because of one cute rainwing influence)
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P.s.
I think that, being mostly nightwings and icewings, the decepticons are much more concerned about purity of their blood and rarely accept half-breeds into their ranks.
During the war, there were many animus dragons among decepticons, which is why they have so many artifacts that allowed teleportation and communication at a distance. But, honestly, I still can't imagine what Nemesis would look like in this AU
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angxlofvenus · 1 year
Note
hi, hi, hi! could I request the brothers + diavolo during a meeting together when their s/o (the mc) starts to doze off and then suddenly faint? Turns out, the MC forgot to drink water that day-
That happened to mr a few days ago, it wasn't fun - so here's a reminder for you to drink some water too :')
Thank you so much for the request!!! I am so so sorry to hear that happened, I hope you're doing better <3 If anything in this post seems insensitive please let me know! Have a wonderful rest of your day/night
Genre: Mostly fluff, Some Hurt/Comfort Ship: Demon Brother+Diavolo x reader (individual) TW: Minimal cussing, mentions of fainting, mass panic, yelling, second person pov for reader (If I missed anything please tell me!!)
When You Faint
You watched as the clock slowly ticked by the minutes as the Demons around you spoke amongst themselves, Your talking had slowly come to a stop as the room started to spin, Some of the men looked at you strangely but nobody expected you to fall out of your chair and onto the council room floor...
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Lucifer
He's immediately up out of his chair
Oh lord, he’s now fully in mother mode-
Barking orders at everyone, Yes this includes Dia
As soon as he gets over to you his wings are out, shielding you from everyone else
Once you come to, He isn’t letting you out of his sight
And once he finds out you fainted because of dehydration? 
He would so buy you one of those big ass waterbottles 
One of these mfs
Mammon
Freaking out pt. 1
Definitely hootin’ and hollering
He is indeed making a scene
Won’t really be on you until after you wake up because he knows Lucifer and Diavolo can do more for you then he can
After you have awoken though? He isn’t letting you out of his sight
You don’t have to worry about remembering to drink water, He’s there to remind you now!
Humans are such fragile creatures and now that he's seen that firsthand, He will barely let you do anything
He will make sure you are healthy whether you like it or not dammit
Levi
Freaks out pt. 2
Somehow freaking out even more then Mammon
He doesn’t know what to do! He leaves his room one time and this is what happens!
Will kind of just stand there in shock as everyone erupts into chaos
He isn’t the best example of someone who looks after their body lets be honest
But when ya’ll are gaming You’ll start to see some more healthy options popping up in the mix of chips and soda
He will beat himself up over not noticing, Please comfort this man before he decides you resent him
He won’t ever really bring it up but rest assured, It will never happen again
Satan
Would also run to your aid
He has read a lot of medical books in his time, He knows what to do
Would take you to a doctor afterwards, just in case
Kind of beats himself up for being unaware of your condition
I don’t think he’d freak out as badly after the incident, He knows it was probably a one time thing
Will bring up in conversation casually if you’ve eaten and drank water today, just to be sure
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Asmo
Screams
Freaks out pt. 3
Yelling at Lucifer/Satan to do something!
Will be all over you as soon as you’re awake
Don’t scare him like that! 
Will get extra pouty when he learns why you passed out
Has Ya’lls self-care sessions meant nothing to you?!
No more of that, not on his watch
He will offer you water at random times throughout the day
Studying? Water! Watching Tv? Water! Sleeping? Water! no, no, Beauty sleep is important
Beel
Doesn’t knows what's happening, Why are you on the floor?
Will stand on the sidelines concerningly as he watches Lucifer take over, He trusts his brother to help you
Will also feel immense guilt he didn’t see the signs, He just wants to keep everyone safe 🙁
When he thinks Ya’ll are doing something too straining for a human, He’ll stop to ask if you’re okay/ need a break
Will start carrying around a water bottle specifically for you 
Belphie
He totally wasn’t sleeping when it happened, nope
Woke up to his brothers and the Prince of the Devildom freaking out around you
I don’t think he’d really get too involved with helping since he doesn’t actually know wtf just happened
If you don’t immediately perk back up, He’s gonna cuss out Lucifer and maybe try to fight him
Gets a little snappy at everyone (except you ofc) after the incident
He even started to set alarms on your DDD as reminders to drink water
Will tease you just a teeny bit, But you can tell how worried the entire thing actually makes him
Diavolo
Was over to you in record time
Commands everyone to step back from you while he calls Barbatos and a royal doctor
You will be given the best treatment don't worry
He thinks he's being very sneaky about making you drink more water He is so obvious about it, it hurts
You will definitely notice how Barbatos now almost immediately refills your glass as soon as it’s half full
Another one to openly ask if you’ve drank enough water that day
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katsu28 · 19 days
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Hi, I really like your writing! I had an idea for a fic with Lando. He left school really young (he got tutored privately afterwards according to wikipedia) and mayhaps that could make him feel insecure or something along those lines if he has a significant other that is in university, maybe studying to get a bachelors or masters degree. School is not everything and does not accurately measure intelligence or anything else but it is still a standard that most people hold and compare themselves too. It's something that I know all to well, which is where this idea came from. Whatever you do with it thank for reading it!💖
thank you for trusting me with your idea <3
lando norris x reader, r is in an unspecified master's program, 1.5k.
Lando loves how smart you are.
He tells you all the time. When you’re stressed from the intensity of your master’s program, nervous about an exam, or most of the time, just randomly. He’s proud of you for taking on something he definitely doesn’t have the brains for, and for absolutely crushing it so far. 
He left school before even completing his GCSEs in year 10, just so he could focus on racing full time—a decision he’d never regret, but always wondered about.
What would his life have looked like if he hadn’t devoted it to pursuing a career in racing? Would he have finished secondary school? Made it to university?
He doesn’t even know what he would’ve studied. 
Granted, he was never really good at school to begin with, but things could’ve changed. Now don’t get him wrong, he would never change a thing, but that didn’t mean he never thought about what might’ve been. 
So yes, Lando loves how smart you are, but if he’s being honest with himself, it does make him feel a little insecure about his own intellect.
-------
Lando finds you in your workspace when he gets home from padel with Max. 
He’d turned one of his guest rooms into a sort of office slash study space for you when you moved in with him all that time ago, a place where you could get your work done in a quiet environment whenever you needed to. The space itself was one of the smaller rooms, but still bigger than you were used to, and decorated to perfection too. 
A standing desk with an ergonomic chair (better for your neck and back, he’d said, so you weren’t hunched over your books all the time), a smart blackboard on one wall for any necessary brainstorming, a comfy chair in another corner—all overlooking the Monte Carlo cityscape from massive floor to ceiling windows. Everything else has been up to you, but Lando wanted nothing but the best for his smart girl. 
He pads in silently, making his way over to where you're furiously typing at your computer to press a kiss to your cheek. You flinch a little, startled out of your own world at the action. Your eyes fly to his, wide, before your posture relaxes again. 
“Oh, hi! Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” You breathe, giving him a short kiss on the lips this time. 
“Didn’t mean to make you jump like that, darling. My bad,” He chuckles. He leans over your shoulder, squinting at the diagrams on your screen. “What’s that?” 
“Oh, it’s—” You pause, flicking through a few pages of the textbook next to your computer. Your lips twist to the side in thought, and then you smile at him in what he’s sure you meant to be an assuring way. “Nevermind, you probably wouldn’t get it.” 
He knows you don't mean it as a dig or anything, but the brush off ignites a bitter taste on his tongue. And if there’s one thing about Lando, it’s that he feels everything extremely strongly. “Well I’m sorry, not all of us can be geniuses.” 
“Pardon?” You look genuinely stunned at his outburst, at this huge 180 degree turn his mood has taken within the last few seconds.
Then he can't help the words tumbling out of his mouth next. “I get it, alright? ‘Lando doesn't know what I’m talking about, let’s make Lando feel dumb!” 
He storms off before you can process his stinging words, but even then, the anger that had just flared up in him has already dissipated. Lando knows all of it comes from a place of insecurity, that little nagging feeling at the back of his brain telling him that even though he’s happy where he is, happy doing what he does for a living, he could’ve made something different of himself. 
You leave him alone for a while before coming to find him, presumably to let him cool off. He feels awful about what he said now. Honestly, he hadn't even meant to say it out loud, doesn’t know why he said it. It’s not like he meant it. 
A knock from the doorway of the bedroom draws him out of his guilty thoughts, and he looks up to see you hovering just behind the threshold. He hates how you look hesitant to approach him. 
You press your lips into a thin line once his gaze meets yours. “Can we talk about what just happened?” 
“It’s nothing. Just forget I said anything.” 
“It’s obvious you’ve been holding onto those thoughts for a while, so no, Lando, it’s not nothing.” 
“I don’t wanna fight,” He mumbles, eyes glued to his fiddling fingers. You seem to notice his sudden quietness because your expression softens as you cross the room to sit next to him. 
“We’re not fighting. You’ve got something on your mind, and I want to know so I can help,” You reply, shifting to face him. He can tell how you're trying to keep your voice as level as possible. “Please let me help.” 
Lando chews on his bottom lip, unsure. You say you want to help, but he's worried that if he tells you what's really going on, you’ll think it's silly. It is silly, really, him feeling insecure because of how smart you are. But if he doesn't tell you, you’ll think he doesn't trust you, and he does trust you. He trusts you with everything. 
Then you say his name again, softer this time, and you’re looking at him like you’ve done something horrible, and he sighs. 
“Sometimes I feel like I’m not smart enough to be your boyfriend. You get all excited about your research when you talk about it,” He sighs, shrugging clumsily, “and I want to understand it because I wanna be able to get excited about it with you, but I just don’t get it. And it makes me feel stupid.” 
“I didn’t—Lando, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to, I—” 
He shakes his head forcefully, grabbing both your hands in his. “No, that’s not what I meant. You never make me feel stupid. It’s my problem, really. I just…I’m not really known for my brains, yeah? Came to terms with that a while ago.” 
“You’re smart, Lan,” You insist, brows pinching in the middle. “You’re so smart, what’re you even talking about?” 
“We talking about the same person here? I never even finished school. Wasn’t too good at it before I left either.”
“There’s more than one way to be smart, y’know,” You continue. Lando tilts his head curiously, not unlike a puppy would. “You’ve got amazing people skills, you’re creative beyond anything I could’ve dreamed up, you’re well balanced with your emotions. Not to mention the amount of skill and strength it takes to do what you do everyday, at the level you perform at.” 
“No, but that’s different. I could never do what you do, remember all the stuff that you’ve had to.”
“And you think I could do what you do?” You ask, giving a disbelieving chuckle. “Genuinely, if I got put into the cockpit of your car, I wouldn’t even be able to start the bloody thing, let alone drive it the way you can when you’re being bombarded with information from all sides during a race. If you put me in front of a group of reporters, if I had to do even a fraction of the press appearances and sponsorship events you do, I’d probably shit my pants.”
Lando wrinkles his nose in slight disgust. “That’s nasty.” 
“It’s true though! I can’t do half the things you can, but that doesn’t make me any less smart. It just means we’re smart in different ways. So what you never finished school? School isn’t the only way to measure how intelligent you are. And Lando, you’re beyond intelligent.” 
His shoulders sag with the long sigh he releases, and he lists to the side, slumping over onto your lap. “Sorry for lashing out,” He murmurs, cheek pressed against your knee. He rolls over onto his back, gazing up at you with truly apologetic eyes. “I didn’t mean what I said, I was just being a dick.” 
You hum noncommittally, stroking a hand through his curls. “You’re allowed to have feelings, Lando, it’s alright.” 
“Yeah, but what I said was just mean, and I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking straight. You don’t deserve to be snapped at like that.” 
“Makes up for all the times I’ve snapped at you during exams, so…call it even?” You ask, leaning over him with a soft smile. 
“We’re even.” He lifts his head, craning to reach your lips, and you chuckle a little bit, but meet him halfway in a gentle kiss. 
It’s an I’m sorry kiss, a I forgive you kiss, a I’ll always support you kiss.
A no matter what you say, I’ll love you forever kiss.
This fact, Lando knows for sure, even though a little bit of him still thinks he’s not quite as smart as you.
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literaryavenger · 3 months
Text
You Were My Sunshine
Summary: Once a year you disappear for a whole day. Nobody knows where you go or what you do, but the team has learned to let you have your privacy. This year though, Bucky's curiosity gets the better of him and he follows you.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of death. Grief. Some angst. Fluff. No mentions of Y/N.
Word Count: 3K
A/N: I realize this is a little heavy and you absolutely don't need to read it. This one's mostly for me, but I thought why not post it and let Bucky comfort other people, if you need it. As always, my inbox is always open if you want to even just chat. I hope someone likes this. Also, I promise the requests are coming, a little slowly but they're coming. I'm on vacation for two weeks so I'll spend the time writing, probably.
Masterlist
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“Have a good day.” Steve calls after you as you pass the kitchen.
You stop in front of the door to smile at Steve and wave at the team as they all have breakfast together before you keep making your way to the elevator that will take you to the parking garage.
“So, we’re really just accepting this?” Bucky asks the team when the elevators close behind you and he’s sure you can’t hear him.
“Yes, Buck.” Steve says firmly.
“But-” Bucky’s protests are cut off by Tony.
“She’s entitled to her privacy.” He says firmly. “Just let it go, Frosty.”
Bucky ignores the nickname and looks around the team, searching for anyone that might have his back, but nobody else seems to be too invested in your day. Bucky gets up with a huff and makes his way to the training room, resigned that he has to let you be.
You’ve always been an open person, you’re always there for everybody that needs you and you’re not afraid to talk about anything with anybody.
Your life is an open book.
Which is precisely why it drives Bucky crazy that, once a year, you disappear for an entire day and nobody knows where you go or what you do.
You disable all your communication devices, the tracking in your car and you don’t use credit cards anywhere. 
It’s like you cease to exist for a day, leaving no trace that you were anywhere.
At least that’s how the team sees it. 
They’ve all tried to figure out where you go, but that’s the only subject that you never talk about and, every time anyone asks you about it, your answer is always the same:
Don’t worry about it.
After so many years, the whole team has decided to listen to you and stopped worrying about it. 
Everyone except Bucky.
It’s not like you’re that close with him, but he considers you his friend and he trusts you, so it irks him that you have this huge secret that nobody knows anything about.
Needless to say, he worries about it a lot.
That’s why right now he finds himself tip toeing down to the garage. He sees you get into your car and drive away and, without even thinking about it, he jumps on his bike and follows you.
He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t follow you, that you’re allowed to have your secrets. But he can’t help himself when it comes to you. You make him lose control, you make him go insane. 
He just needs you. to know.
So he follows you, as discreetly as only a trained assassin knows how. He follows you into the city and stops a few cars away when you park in front of a secondhand bookstore. Bucky knows that shop all too well, it’s one of his favorite places to visit when he’s in the city.
He waits until you disappear behind a shelf before going in, watching you as you browse the books. It looks to Bucky like you’re looking for a particular book, when you find it, he can see your face lighting up.
You turn the book to look at the back cover and Bucky can read the title very clearly. ‘Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince’, one of your favorite books. Bucky knows that because he’s talked about it with you for hours, along with all the other books of the series and the Lord of the Rings books, Bucky’s favorites.
You chat amicably with the older guy that owns the shop while you pay for your book and then leave, getting back into your car with Bucky still on your tail.
Next you go to a small bakery and buy a coffee and a cupcake. Thankfully for Bucky you’re too distracted by talking with the nice, old lady that owns the place to notice him buying his own coffee.
He follows you again as you cross the street to the park in front of the bakery and walk until you find a secluded spot. You sit down against a tree and continue peacefully reading your book under the summer sun while sipping your iced coffee.
Bucky sits on a bench nearby where he has a visual on you, but you can’t really see him unless you were really looking for him. But you’re so engrossed in reading that Bucky’s sure he could sit next to you and you wouldn’t even realize it.
He knows you get like that when you’re reading something that captures your attention, and the Harry Potter books always do, no matter how many times you’ve read them already.
Bucky always thought you looked so cute while reading. You make no attempt to hide your reactions and it amuses him. So he spends the next few hours just watching you read, watching your beautiful face shining in the sunlight as you frown and snort and laugh and pout as your eyes dart around the pages.
It’s actually relaxing, he thinks to himself. Is this what you do every year? Take a whole day just to read without the chaos of the Compound and nobody to bother you?
But why would you be so secretive about this? Reading for hours with a cup of coffee is something you’d done countless times in your room, on the roof, in the backyard of the Compound or even in the common room, never really bothered by the noise the team makes when you’re so into the words you’re reading.
So why do it in secret?
After a few hours, around lunch time, you finally come out of the book’s trance and gather your things before getting up.
Bucky frowns when you don’t get back into your car and follows you as you walk to a small family owned Italian restaurant that Bucky’s never been to but always wanted to try. He discreetly follows you in and takes a table in the back where you can’t see him.
He watches you interact with the owner, the waiter and even the cook comes out to talk to you. It’s clear that they all know you and it seems to Bucky like you’re pretty close to them even though he’s never even heard you mention this place before. When you’re done eating, Bucky sees you playfully fight with the owner that doesn’t want to let you pay so you leave a generous tip that amounts to more than your check is and the owner chuckles to himself when you wink as you walk out.
After lunch, which Bucky has to admit was pretty good, he follows you to a flower shop a couple of doors down and he’s surprised to see the owner greeting you like old friends. It looks like she was already anticipating your arrival, a bouquet of blue roses already on the counter and ready to go when you arrive. You chat with the older woman for a few minutes before paying and leaving the flower shop to go to your car.
It’s clear to Bucky by now that you obviously have a routine on your secret day, and everyone you see on this day knows it.
So why don’t the Avengers? 
You looked so comfortable with all the people you’ve met today, Bucky can’t help but think that maybe you don’t feel like you belong on the team.
You drive until you arrive at your destination and Bucky is both surprised and confused when you park in the parking lot of a cemetery, get out of your car and enter it.
He subtly follows you in, watching you walk past a few graves and it looks to him like you know your way around by how effortlessly you walk without needing to check the names, stopping at one almost at the end of the row you were in while Bucky keeps his distance, always making sure to stay out of sight.
He sees you take a deep breath before kneeling in front of the grave and putting down the bouquet of flowers in front of it.
“Hi, mom…” You wipe the dirt off the tombstone and tidy the flowers in front of it with what Bucky’s sure it’s a forced smile. “Happy birthday.”
You take out the cupcake you bought that Bucky now realizes you hadn’t eaten yet and he sees you put a small red birthday candle on it and light it, then you just look at it for a few seconds before you sigh and blow it out.
“So…” You say quietly, looking back at the tombstone and Bucky can see a tear falling down your cheek.
A piece of Bucky's heart breaks seeing you so vulnerable and hurting like this, but he stays put no matter how much he wants to be at your side right now.
Bucky stands there in complete silence, hearing everything you say, hanging on to every word. He hears you talk about everything that happened in the past year, he listens to you talk about missions and parties and holidays. He hears you talk about the whole team and his heart flutters a little when you mention his name too.
You talk for a while and, after he assumes you run out of new things to say, he sees you taking out the book you just bought today.
“So, this year we finally got to the half-blood prince.” You say with a small smile. “It’s our favorite, hadn’t read it in a while.”
Bucky sees you open it and go to the page you left the bookmark in.
“It took me longer than I thought to find your favorite quote, I have to admit.” You say with a small chuckle. “It’s like 400 pages in, don’t judge me.” 
Bucky chuckles quietly at your playfulness, even in this situation. He can’t help but find you adorable.
“It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.” You read the quote before closing the book and looking back at the grave. “That’s what you told me when I was scared of the dark…” You say quietly with a smile.
“And that’s what you told me before you…” You trail off, not being able to finish your sentence as tears start streaming down your cheeks but Bucky has a pretty good idea where you were going.
That's what she told you before she died, so you wouldn't be scared.
He’s more than surprised that he didn’t know your mother died, and he’s pretty sure the rest of the team doesn’t know either.
Admittedly, families are a very touchy subject for the Avengers.
But Bucky’s even more surprised to see you breaking down, something you’ve never done before. You’re cheery, you’re bubbly, you’re everyone’s little ray of sunshine.
And it breaks Bucky’s heart to know you’ve been falling apart when you’re by yourself all these years.
“I’m sorry I only come here once a year, I just…” You start, so quietly that Bucky’s glad he has enhanced hearing otherwise he's sure he wouldn't be able to hear you. “I miss you so much and I can’t… I can’t bear this.”
He sees you running your fingers gently over the tombstone as you take a deep, shaky breath, but you can’t stop crying.
“I’m trying to be the person you loved…” You say after a moment of silence. “Your little ray of sunshine.” You chuckle softly through the tears.
It makes sense to Bucky now why you always try to be there for everyone else. It’s how you’ve always been, apparently. Always making sure no one feels alone because deep down you feel the most alone, and you don’t want anyone else to feel that way.
You are my sunshine
Bucky’s thoughts get interrupted when he hears you quietly starting to sing. 
My only sunshine
Bucky knows this song. It’s a lullaby that he’s heard you sing once before.
Clint’s family visited him at the Compound and you offered to watch his kids so he and his wife could have a date night.
You probably didn’t realize he heard you, you probably thought you were alone and it’s not like he was spying on you. He just happened to pass by when you were in Clint’s room, trying to get the three kids to sleep by singing to them.
You make me happy, when skies are gray 
You take a breath before continuing but your voice wavers a little. 
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you
Bucky can see you’re having trouble getting the words out, your voice almost breaking.
Please don’t take… My sunshine… Away
Before you can even get the last word out, you break down completely, burying your face in your hands while sobbing.
Bucky feels his heart break as he takes in your pain. He wishes there was some clear and simple solution to making this all better for you, but there's always been so much he doesn't understand about complex emotions like these. 
Right now, as he's watching how broken you are, though, he knows that he doesn't even care about understanding. He just wants to comfort you, to try and make it better...
Bucky comes to rest beside you, he kneels down to your level and places his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey…” He says quietly.
His presence startles you and you go into defense mode, taking his hand on your shoulder and bending it, then using your grip on his arm to push him face down on the ground.
Bucky didn’t expect you to react so quickly and aggressively which makes it easier for you to catch him off-guard and pin him down.
“Goddammit, Bucky!” You say after you finally recognize him and let him go, getting up and scrambling back to put some distance between you and him while breathing heavily.
For a moment, Bucky is a little stunned. It's rare that anyone is able to get the jump on him like that. But then he snaps back to reality. He lets you make your distance while getting back to his feet and stands a few feet away from you.
“Did you fucking follow me?!” Your sadness is quickly forgotten and replaced with anger.
“I…” Bucky doesn’t know what to say. He knows he’s in the wrong here and he has no defense for himself when he knowingly violated your privacy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“You didn’t what?!” You snap at him. “You didn’t understand what the meaning of privacy is?!”
Bucky doesn’t know what to say, he’s never seen you this angry at anyone that’s not an enemy and surely never at him.
“I’m sorry, okay?” He says quickly. “I’m sorry, I was just curious, I didn’t think this would be it, I thought…”
“You thought what?” You say when he trails off, clearly pissed as you cross your arms in front of your chest.
“I thought maybe you were a supervillain…” He jokes weakly, trying to make you laugh. “Or a stripper.”
His last word gets a surprised laugh out of you as you, fortunately, understand he’s just joking before you actually punch him in the face.
Bucky lets out a sigh of relief as he sees you laugh and then takes a tentative step towards you.
“I really am sorry…” He says quietly, reaching out to put his hand on your shoulder. “I know it was wrong of me to follow you, and I didn’t plan on bothering you at all, which doesn’t make what I did better,” He quickly adds when he sees you’re about to say something.
“But when I saw you crying, I just… I couldn’t help myself.” He trails his hand down your arm to your hand and takes it in his. “You’re always there for everybody, I don’t think it’s fair that you don’t let anybody be there for you.”
You look at him for a long moment, processing his words. Of course you know he’s right, you don’t let anybody be there for you, but you also never really believed anyone cared enough to.
But looking at Bucky right now, it feels like he really does want to be there for you...
So you let him.
You look back down at the grave, your hand still in his as you intertwine your fingers together.
“She died when I was 14.” You say quietly. “I only had her, so I was on my own after that…”
Bucky listens quietly, his eyes on your face as he sees the tears starting to gather in your eyeline again.
“A few years later, Natasha and Clint found me during a mission. They saw me knock out a dude that cornered me in an alley and they were impressed…” You have a faint smile at the memory although it’s clear you’re about to cry again. “They offered me a place in the SHIELD Academy and, after that, I don’t know… I wasn’t alone anymore.”
You look back at Bucky to find him looking at you intently, his gaze intent and unwavering. 
“Doll…” He says quietly while cupping your face with his free hand as he sees you holding back tears. “It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of the people you care about. You taught me that.”
His gentle words, the way he softly strokes your cheek and the way he’s looking at you so lovingly, it’s all too much for you and can’t hold back your tears anymore.
With a broken sob, you bury your face in Bucky’s chest and hug him tightly, clinging to him while he wraps his arms around you and hugs you just as tight, kissing the top of your head before nuzzling his face against your hair.
In this moment, while holding you in his arms, Bucky realizes it’s not like you don’t feel like you belong with the Avengers.
This is just something you feel like you have to go through on your own because you’ve always had to.
And he’ll be damned if he lets you go through it alone ever again.
Drabble
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peachysunrize · 28 days
Text
[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]
Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.
Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity
Word count: 5.1k+
Warnings: tensionnnnnn, alcohol consumption (just wine) & fluff! English isn’t my first language <3
A/n: ‘m not gonna say anything more than just that ITS THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING NEW!! Reblog & comments are most appreciated🍊🧡
Taglist: if you’d like to be tagged in the future chapters, please fill this form with your username!
Updates: every Saturday!!
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Chapter 3: The beginning of something new
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He leans back on the chair, his book abandoned next to him on the desk as he carves a line on the wooden pallet, his glasses on the bridge of his nose, the sound of wood getting cut echoing in the old workshop.
He’s been here since early morning, all of his thoughts are consumed by you and your talk a few days ago. There’s still a part of him that is immensely guilty for how he treated you, especially after you told him about that Lannister boy. 
He is heard and understood, maybe not by someone he expected, but the sweetness and calmness in this revelation makes it more special. You’ve been in the background image of his life for so long, someone always present yet too far and out of reach. But now, you’ve turned into someone important, someone he can rely on and trust wholeheartedly. 
He sighs, letting the chisels fall from his hand on the table as he stretches his arms, groaning as he cracks his back and slowly lumps in the chair, glancing at Vhagar who does the same and slowly walks towards him, jumping on him to cuddle — the chair is so little to have them both sitting on it together, so Aemond has to hold Vhagar to his chest with a hand under her belly while she rests her head on his forearm as the other hand rubs slowly circle on her back.
Vhagar barks suddenly, jumping down to go near the door, alerting Aemond that someone is coming. He also stands up, grabs his abandoned book from the table, and walks towards Vhagar who is clawing at the door before he opens it and lets her out, locking the door workshop’s door behind him.
He follows her, watching as she bolts through the bushes and trees to reach whoever is approaching them. He hears your voice, melodically and softly when you start talking to Vhagar, giggling and letting her probably lick your face.
“Morning!” You say as soon as you spot him, strengthening your back before you stand up, holding two cups of coffee in your hands, “I couldn’t find you in the library, so I thought you’re probably taking a walk with your old lady.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “we had an early morning, and she gets restless and impatient when she doesn’t set foot outside.”
“Here’s your coffee, little nerd,” you hand him his cup, stepping closer to him until you’re only mere inches away from him, looking up at him through your lashes.
Aemond’s break is stuck in his throat as he looks down at you, he gulps when he sees you reach for his face, pushing his glasses up so he sees better. Your touch is warm against his skin, but your smile is warmer, more welcoming than anything he’s ever seen.
Get a grip, he thinks to himself as he thanks you quietly, clearing his throat before he wraps his long fingers around the hot mug. 
“Let’s take a walk, shall we?” He asks, glancing back at the workshop door quickly.
“What’s that?” You turn around and follow his gaze, pointing at the door hiding behind the trees.
“Oh, um, that…��� he rubs the back of his neck nervously, “nothing, just an abandoned storeroom,” Aemond shrugs, the book in his hands falling to the ground as his palm grows clammy.
“Shit—“
“It’s okay, I’ve got it,” you crouch down to grab the book, smiling softly when you look up and find Aemond turning red with embarrassment, especially when you glance at the book in your hand, “No way.”
“Give me that, please—“ he tries to snatch it out of your hand, but you hold it behind your back, biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning, taking a sip from your coffee to hide your smile, “tell me why you are reading Maester Orwyle’s book of Philosophy!”
“To kill some time, now please—“ he sighs, gesturing to you to give him the book by his hand while the ghost of a smirk finds its way to his face, “Don’t be ridiculous and give me the book so we can both go back to the house.”
“Nope,” you take a step away from him and he matches your huge grin as he extends his hand again, “if you want it, you should come get it.”
“Come on,” Aemond groans, “I’m not the five-year-old kid who used to chase you around the house to steal one of your books!”
“I’m not saying you should chase me, but maybe say please a few more times then I’ll agree—no!” You squeal when he leans over and snatches the book out of your hands, his tall and lean frame making it impossible for you to hold it back anymore, “You’re no fun!”
“Someone has to be the adult of this friendship,” he says, securing the book under his arm as he walks ahead of you, turning around to look at you, pointing at the path in front of you with his head, “Come on.”
“Fine, fine!” You laugh, following him towards the path leading to the backyard and the Weirwood tree.
The sound of friendship left a bittersweet taste in his mouth, something he only felt when Alys would give him backhanded compliments, but he knows you, maybe even much better than he ever knew his ex-fiance, and with the talk you had a few days ago, he is left confused. Not by your actions no, but by your words; it is hard to find someone who’s had the same experience, especially with someone so understanding and willing to share them.
“Don’t sulk now, Little nerd,” you bump your shoulder to him, watching him take a long sip of his coffee, “tell me about the book, it mustn’t be the first time you’re reading it.”
“Of course not,” he sighs and continues, “he was a friend of my grandfather, no one knows what happened to their friendship after this book was written, but apparently all the answers are in this—“
“You can’t be reading this giant hard-to-swallow book just because you wanna know about your grandpa's failed friendship,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him, “come on, tell me the truth!”
“No,” he gives you a pointed look, “this is the truth.”
“Alright,” you smile at him, not wanting to pressure him if he truly doesn’t wish to explain it, walking side by side with him until the trees are behind you except the Weirwood tree that looks so beautiful under the morning sunlight.
“The coffee is perfect…” he hums in delight as he glances at you, holding the mug in one hand with his arm keeping the book rightly against his body while he puts his right hand on the small of your back, walking slowly to your right side to be able to look at you more comfortably.
“My goodness, Aemond, I’m so sorry I didn’t realize—“ you try to apologize but he cuts you off with a slow shake of his head.
“It’s okay, don’t fret about it,” he rubs circles on your waist as you walk towards the house, the sunshine casting a glow on your face, and he fights off a smile when he sees how your eyes shine, “how did you find out I like my coffee with three sugars?”
“You’re not too hard to read,” you chuckle a little leaning to his side as he keeps his palm secured on your waist, “I observe people, mostly my friends and I wanted to make sure you were alright after everything, so I kept a close eye on you. Turns out you have a horrible sweet tooth!”
“You haven’t seen the worst of it yet,” he teases you, finishing his coffee in a sip, “Hel and I used to bake together, a silly hobby she took when Viserys and Mum separated. It was only simple cakes and bread but you know me, I can’t settle for less than perfection.”
“So you started to get better and better.”
“Yeah, it turns out Hel & I would make an excellent team, many of the birthday cakes were on us,” he explains, handing you the book so you’d hold it for him so he can open the door for you when you reach the building, “if you’re lucky, you’ll get a special birthday cake from me one day.”
“Stop being so talented—oh, fuck—“ you yell in shock when Vhagar runs past the two of you, knocking to your legs, making you lose your grip on your coffee and having it spill on Aemond’s book.
“I’m so sorry, fuck, I should have finished it first…” your voice grows quieter as you open the drenched book, reading the first page’s note, “Is this…?”
“Yeah,” he nods, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, “it’s yours.”
“No wonder I was looking for it when I got back home after another vacation spent here,” you laugh, tracing your finger over the blue note, “I caught you reading it in your old stable. Why would you go there to read?” It was full of horseshit, yet you seemed to like it.”
“Well, it was the only place no one seemed to want to spend any time there. Best place to read the book I stole from you,” he follows you inside the building to the kitchen to leave your cups there, “besides, you’d find me and discuss the book anyway, maybe I wanted you to find me.”
“You seem to enjoy that, don’t you? Me always finding you?” You ask him after you put the book on the kitchen island, turning around to look at him.
It seems like he has caged you with his body, he is standing close, probably closer than he should but not too much to deem it inappropriate for friends, and when you look up at him, he is sure the distance between the two of you has decreased considerably — physically and mentally.
“I like the idea,” he whispers, his good eye never leaving your face as you stare at each other before he clears his throat and pulls away a bit, giving you an awkward smile, “I think Hel and others are in the TV room.”
You nod hesitantly, moving past him towards the other room, leaving him alone in the kitchen. He sighs shakily, swallowing the lump in his throat before he decides to join you after he puts his cup away.
When he enters the room he finds you leaning on the back of the coach and Helaena is curled up on your side with Dreamfyre resting her head on Hel’s calves. His brothers are playing yet another round of Mortal Kombat — which he is sure Aegon insisted on. He looks around for Vhagar, and when he can’t find her, he assumes she must be in the library, taking her morning nap.
“Morning.”
“Hey, Aemy!” Aegon greets him, “We thought you were kidnapped when you didn’t join us for breakfast.” “Fuck off, I don’t have the patience to deal with you today,” Aemond grumbles, throwing his head back, and closing his eye before he is hit by a cushion, followed by a loud snort and soft giggles from you and Helaena, “What the fuck was the for?”
“You need to have patience! This is our summer, we will be annoying you until you give up this crappy attitude and enjoy your time with us here! Who knows when we’ll gather together like this again! You live here now with Daeron and Mum, I live in Oldtown, She,” Helaena points at you, “lives in Rosby, and Aegon… well he floats around the country.”
“I have a home, you little bitch—” “Doesn’t seem like it when you constantly show up at our places,” you say, earning a loud gasp from Aegon before he pouts and rolls his eyes at you, turning around towards Daeron with a glare when he laughs at him before he says ‘I’m gonna kick your ass’ and they start playing again.
“You know what we should do this week?” Helaena asks suddenly, sitting up with glee, “Aegon should throw one of his infamous parties! That way not only our dear brother will get better and forget about everything even for a few hours, but we get to have some fucking fun!”
“I thought you didn’t like parties,” Daeron pauses the game, turning around to give his sister a pointed look. Aemond does the same, but instead, he glances at you and finds you already looking at him, giving him a tight-lipped awkward smile before the two of you look away from each other and focus on Helaena.
“I do! But that doesn’t mean I loathe them, besides, Aegon’s parties are fun, they are not like Mum’s when we have to sit in awfully formal clothes, sipping on champagne like high-class ladies.”
“I hate to break it to you, babe, but you are a high-class lady,” you say, earning a nod from everyone in the room.
“That’s not my point,” she groans, chuckling when you side-eye her, “I just wanna have fun, and Aegon is fun—” “Did you hear that, pirate?” Aegon points at Aemond, laughing when he is met with a glare from his younger brother, “She thinks I’m fun, not you, me!”
“Don’t make her change her mind,” Aemond sighs, sneering at his older brother. “Aemond is fun, mind you,” you defend him, giving Aegon a pointed look which makes Daeron laugh out loud, “You are just too chaotic to  understand him.” “And you do?” Aegon scoffs, and Aemond senses something is going to happen, that his brother can’t simply keep his large mouth shut, “his fiance didn’t find him fun—” “Jeez, Aegon!” Daeron yells, face twisted in disbelief.
“What is your fucking problem?” you ask him, scoffing at Aegon’s scared look, “You are always mean to him.” “I am not!” “Shut the fuck up I’m talking,” Aemond looks at you, surprised by your outburst, “he needs your support more than ever, his face and his life are now all over the fucking internet! Have you considered how hurt he must be? Of course, you haven’t because you don’t think. He doesn’t need to be reminded of what happened constantly when he is trying his best to move on!”
“I—” Aegon can’t say anything as he looks at you like you have grown another head.
Aemond is as equally shocked as others, he fights off a huge smile as he watches you defend him, his lips parted in surprise, jaw on the floor while you talk and put Aegon in his place.
“Morning my loves,” Alicent comes to the rescue, looking around the room to find Helaena and Aemond looking at you with a pleased smile while Aegon shrinks under your gaze and Daeron nearly falls on the floor with how hard he’s laughing, “What’s going on here?” “I thought maybe I could throw a party!” Aegon speaks, avoiding your gaze as he looks at his mum, “A month has passed from summer and I have yet to throw one of my infamous spontaneous parties!” “Alright, but you know—” “I know, I know! In the guest wing, no drugs, no strippers—” “You brought strippers to your parties?” Aemond asks, giving Aegon a disapproving look who in return only smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at him.
“Did you forget your insanely cool bachelor party? Did you think I brought random girls to give you a lap dance—” “Okay enough!” Alicent laughs awkwardly, “There are better times to discuss these matters! I have more important things to tell you.” “Like what?” Daeron asks.
“New Gossip Girls season dropped?” Aegon looks at you shrugging when you snort at his question.
“Be serious for a fucking second please,” Aemond warns his brother before he looks at Alicent softly, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing, nothing! In fact, I kind of have a surprise for all of you. Not a huge surprise but I wanted to take you somewhere,” she explains, stroking her neck in nervousness.
“Where do you wanna take us, Mum? Hopefully nowhere near Father,” Hel says, making everyone sigh in relief when Alicent shakes his head.
“No, of course not!” she scoffs as if even the idea of seeing her ex-husband disgusted her — and it did — she continued, “Do you remember when I told you I had put the winery under a reconstruction? And specifically told you to not go there?”
“No?” Daeron answers, confused as he tries to remember when Alicent told them to not go there, “I doubt you did, Mum.”
“You have a winery?” you ask, a joyful smile comes on your face when Hel nods excitedly.
“Not just a winery but a vineyard!” “Oh, wow! I had no idea!” “Well, it’s your lucky day because now it’s useable again!” Alicent matches your enthusiasm, “Also, this is not just to show you the vineyard, but…” she looks at Aemond, “It’s Aemond’s birthday too!” “It’s not,” he replies, glancing at you quickly, “It’s in a few weeks.”
“Well it doesn’t matter because I am going to throw a party for you, and for that, we need to have a winetasting session and choose a few bottles for that occasion!”
“Mum, there is no need—” “Do shut up, asshole,” Aegon teases him, “what do you mean there is no need? Those are gonna be for your birthday, and also, I don’t have to drink in secret!” “I’m afraid I agree with Aegon,” Hel says, you and Daeron nod in encouragement, and Aemond has no choice but to also agree and surrounder, but it’ll be worth it, he thinks, because the way your eyes light up at the idea of visiting their vineyard makes his heart beat faster.
“Alright then” Alicent claps, shooing you all out of the TV room, “Wear something cool, I don’t want you to get sick under this god-awful heat.”
••••••••••
You and Hel put on your sundresses and you help her apply sunscreen on the back of her neck, covering her pale skin so she won’t burn under the awfully hot sun. The weather is exceptionally warm today and you regret agreeing to go to the vineyard without cars as soon as you step outside.
Aemond and Aegon are already there, smoking together as they wait for you and Hel to reach them. Aemond sends an endearing smile your way when he spots you, taking in the sight of you; you look beautiful, with your smile and the baby blue sundress you are wearing.
“Alright, ladies! Choose your gentleman— hey! At least let me finish,” Aegon whines when you loop your arm with Aemond, making a gagging sound when Aemond rests his palm on top of yours, “Ew, get a fucking room. Come on, Hel, we’re cooler than them.”
You chuckle when Aegon throws his arm around Helaena’s shoulders, taking the lead towards the vineyard not before he gives you a middle finger.
“Asshole,” you mutter, leaning your head on Aemond’s arm as you walk side by side, “since when did you guys have a vineyard? I’ve been Helaena’s friend for years and not once did she mention anything about it.”
“It was Viserys’ vineyard, everything belonged to him, but after Mum filed for divorce and the evidence she had against him, he gave it all away,” he explains, his thumb caressing your knuckles, “I’m glad though, Mum deserves this. I mean we weren’t in need of a huge house in King’s Landing, Old Town was enough for us anyway, but after what he put her through, she really deserved it.”
“Alicent is strong, I’m not sure if I could handle such a mind wrecking thing,” you sigh, squeezing his arm as you smile at the memories you wish to tell him, “I remember when your parents were getting divorced, Helaena would spend days with me at my Grandparents’ country house, she’d bring Dreamfyre too. It felt like an eternity when we were together.”
“Hel has that effect, time doesn’t pass with her,” He agrees, both of you waving when Helaena looks back and blows you a kiss, “I feel like that with you too, maybe because we have shared interests.”
“You’re lucky,” you reply softly, bumping your shoulder to his, “because I feel the same. Every talk we have had since we were kids till now is a core memory of mine. Yeah, Hel will always be my favorite, my best friend, but you are different from everyone I’ve met, you mean so much to me.”
“You’re a dear friend or at least a dear friend to my sister,” he laughs a little, “I remember those days though, it was just me and Daeron in this huge house. Aegon was somewhere probably fucking and drinking and doing drugs while I had to take care of Daeron. He was too young to understand anything.”
“I wish things were different…”
“I don’t,” you look at him, confused and intrigued, “Maybe my eye, yes, but… I’m glad he is no longer a part of our lives, I could care less if he drops dead tomorrow, I’m happy he is no longer here to pester us about Rhaenyra or anyone.”
As soon as you try to answer him, a huge truck goes past you at a fast pace, and in an instant, Aemond wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you to his side, keeping you close to his body as he steps between you and the road.
You pant, hands fisting the front of his shirt in terror as you try to regain your breathing. Aemond looks down at you, his fingers keeping you tightly against him as his other hand reaches to caress your cheek.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” you nod, resting your forehead on his chest as he embraces you, “Yeah, I think I am.”
“We’re here, come on,” he finds Aegon and Hel already waiting for you, and gestures for you to follow them inside, “are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, Little nerd, I’m fine,” you reach and squeeze his hand, holding it as you walk through the entrance of the winery, finding Alicent, Daeron, and Cole already there.
“We’ll start with the winery!” Alicent announces, walking ahead of everyone with Criston on her side, “I’ve asked Qoren Martell to send us a very professional wine taster from Dorne to help us choose, and… here he is!”
“A pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Hightower,” the old man nods at Alicent, shaking her hand gracefully, “I’ve been told you produce different wines here.”
You let go of Aemond and meet Helaena midway as she takes your hand and walks with you behind her Mum and Cole, pointing at different parts of the winery. At first, you see the huge Grape-filled bowls getting crushed, the noises are loud but the fruits look so juicy and sweet.
“This is incredible!” You tell Hel as the group walks toward the next room, watching in awe how huge these oak barrels are. There are probably hundreds of them, with one glass under each so if someone wants to taste the wine straight from the barrels would have easy access.
Helaena pulls you to the next room, not just you but the Targaryen siblings are shocked as well.
“You genius,” Aegon calls his mother, “This is insane!” “I have to agree,” Aemond looks around with his hands in the pocket of his shorts as he walks toward you and Helaena, “Our previous wine cellar was so little it barely fit two people in it. This is…” “Gorgeous,” you finish his sentence and take a good look at the wine cellar; the room is rounded, the walls are curved and the temperature is low to keep the bottles cold. The shelves start from the ground to the ceiling, all of them filled to the brim with different wines in each specific section, 
“It’s amazing, right?” Alicent asks, looking at her handiwork excitedly.
“You’re amazing…” It came out as a really really hushed whisper, but you and Aemond heard it correctly, Cole did say that.
You press your lips to contain your laugh when your eyes meet Aemond’s, finding him shaking his head as he reaches to rub over the huge round dining table in the middle of the room, smoothing his palm over the surface of the wood.
“Shall we start?” Alicent asks, and when you all say yes, she tells the older man to bring the bottles one by one.
You take a seat with Hel and Aemond on your sides at the table, waiting for the old Dornish man to bring the bottles. You see two other men bring a few plates filled with different cheeses and bread rolls.
“When will we see the vineyard?” You ask the siblings, pouting when Aemond chuckles at you, “Hey! Not everyone grew up with tons of money.”
“I’m not making fun of you if that’s what you’re thinking,” he replies, reaching to play with the rim of his glass, his white shirt stretching against his biceps, “your eagerness is cute.”
“Oh, fuck off!” You hide your face in your hands, laughing when Hel reaches to stroke your back, “Fine, but you need to take me there as soon as we’re done here.”
“Whatever you want,” he says, and all of you watch as Cole and the old man bring four bottles; Cabernet Sauvignon, Dornish Red, Rosè, and Chardonnay.
“Bring it on, old man,” Aegon whistles, plopping down on the chair next to the head of the table, bowing his head dramatically when Alicent sits.
You start with the Dornish Red and observe all of the siblings closely; Helaena sips gently and takes a piece of cheese immediately, Daeron and Alicent go on the exact same pace while humming at the same time, Aegon chugs the entire liquid and doesn’t let interest even for a second but Aemond… well you have only seen this move in social media but to see his slim and elegant fingers wrapped around the thin glass as he first looks at the color of the wine then swirls the liquid around before taking a whiff of the smell and after that a sip that follows with a deep rumbling from his chest.
You look away as soon as you sense he might turn around and catch you red-handed, taking a long sip of your glass before coughing at the too-sour taste of it.
“Not your favorite, huh?” Hel asks, handing you a piece of bread.
“Absolutely not,” you clear your throat before shooting Aemond a glare when he chuckles at you, “What?”
“Nothing,” he shrugs, “Come on, let's taste the next one.”
The next one is the white wine, it tastes much better than the Dornish Red, less sour but the bitterness of it is intolerable — you are by no means new to drinking alcohol, but wine has always been a tricky drink for you. You go through the third bottle as well, but again, it doesn’t taste excellent, until Aemond opens the Rosè, his arm bulging as he pulls up the corkscrew, making a delicious sound of ‘pop’. 
“Here you go!” Alicent says as she brings a huge plate of lime and Tangerines to the table to cleanse your pallets before you have the next drink.
“How did you find Tangerines in the summer?” You ask excitedly, side eyeing Aemond as he pours the wine in your glasses before he sits down and grabs the Tangerine from you.
“Not easy to find, but you can trust Criston with these things,” she looks at Cole who’s standing in the door frame with a glass of Dornish Red. How typical.
“What are you doing?” You ask Aemond before you take a sip from your drink, humming in joy as you finally taste the most delicious Rosè you could have ever had.
“What does it look like? I’m peeling it for you,” he answers as if you have asked the most stupid question ever.
“Oh, okay, thank you,” you smile at him, completely dumbfounded by the amount of consideration he’s shown towards you today. You must look so bashful as you avert your eyes from him and stare into your glass, trying to stop the thoughts from flowing in your mind.
“Here,” he hands you the peeled Tangerine before he rises up from his seat and extends his hand to you, “come on, I promised you a tour and the vineyard looks so beautiful now.”
“Alright,” you put your hand in his, letting him pull you on your feet effortlessly, keeping you straight when you wobble a bit. You thank him shyly, reaching to grab your glass as well and leave the wine cellar. 
“Why did the previous cellar not have enough room for all of you?” You ask suddenly, eating a piece of the Tangerine and offering him one as he leads you towards the staircase that reaches the vineyard.
“It was Viserys’, not ours,” he shrugs, “besides, Daeron and I were underage, we couldn’t drink—“
“This is… beautiful,” you exclaim the moment you step on the grass-covered path, the rows of Grenache trees have made a breathtaking sight, “how can you visit here so little? This is out of this world!”
“I’m glad you like it here,” Aemond smiles softly at you, watching as you slowly walk through the path, finishing your fruit before you reach and take one of the leaves between your fingers, slowly caressing it before taking a sip of your wine.
“It’s so dreamy, why didn’t you hold your wedding here?” You facepalm yourself, giving him an apologetic smile, “Sorry…”
“Sometimes people just… forget, and I think that’s what I want too, but… the wound is still fresh, I think about her more than I should,” he steps next to you, one hand in his pocket while the other swirls the rose wine in his glass, “besides, this place is too beautiful to waste it on someone like Alys, yeah, I loved her but…I was blinded by her sweet words.”
“I know, it’ll take a little while to get there, you know. Sometimes you feel unworthy, so ugly and bruised by everything but… it’ll get better.”
“It will, this place helps a bit, and I’m sure Aegon’s massive parties will be very helpful as well,” he grins at you.
“Yeah? Well, it definitely feels like a new beginning, right?” You ask him, taking a step away from him, biting your lip while smiling, keeping your eyes on him as he scoffs, “Which one will you choose for your birthday party, sir?”
“Which one did you like?” He asks and takes a step forward, finishing his glass. He hears his Mum calling you to go for lunch, but before you go, you answer him.
“The Rosè.”
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maysileeewrites · 9 months
Text
it looks better on you || Coriolanus Snow
18+ content; mdni!
summary: Coriolanus is obsessed with you wearing his clothes | based off of this concept post
my Coryo masterlist
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Coriolanus Snow is positively obsessed with you wearing his clothes.
Whenever he sees you in one of his shirts or sweaters, it’s like he can’t think straight anymore, every single thought wiped from his head - except one: you’re absolutely mesmerizing, somehow even more beautiful and enchanting, wearing his clothes. 
You’re his - and you wearing his clothes is just one more way for him to mark you as his, to show everyone that you belong to him, and only him. 
No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to fuck you. No one else gets to fall asleep next to you, wake up next to you. No one else gets to feel the immense, overwhelming satisfaction that always overcomes him when you’re wearing his clothes. 
No one else - just him. 
As it should be, Coriolanus thinks, smirking as he watches you poring over your University books at your desk from his position on your bed. Initially, he came over to your apartment so that you could study for your test next week together. Though he hasn’t really gotten a lot of actual studying done.
You’re just too damn distracting. 
You always are, but especially now - wearing his shirt and playing with the hem of it while you’re trying to memorize the text you’re currently reading, your other hand absentmindedly running through your hair, your lips silently moving - it’s like he can’t think straight. 
His eyes are fixed on you, following your every move. 
The way you screw your eyes shut as you sigh frustratedly - probably trying to remember a particularly difficult aspect of your textbook article. The way your fingers keep playing with the hem of his shirt. 
Really, he thinks, watching you sigh in frustration and slamming your textbook shot, throwing it a dirty look, his clothes look so good on you - almost better than they do on him. 
„Something wrong, love?“, he asks you, getting up from your bed and walking over to your desk, where you’re still sitting in your desk chair, head in your hands. 
You shake your head, sighing again. „No, it’s just this stupid biochemistry test … I just can’t get the hang of this stuff, which means that I’ll fail that test next week, which will bring my overall grade down and-“
„Hey“, Coriolanus interrupts your nervous ramblings, stepping closer to you and taking your hands in his, gently pulling them away from your face. He squeezes your hands, before bringing up one hand and gently brushing his knuckles over your cheek. 
You sigh, closing your eyes and leaning into his comforting touch. 
„I know that this is all a bit overwhelming right now, but you won’t fail that test, you hear me? You won’t - I’ll make sure of that. Even if it means that we have to spend every minute this weekend studying.“ 
„But, Coryo-“, you try to say, but he shakes his head, his eyes finding yours. 
„You won’t fail, trust me“, he says, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your hairline. „We’ll continue studying for this, I promise, but right now, you need a break.“ His gentle, yet firm voice tells you that he won’t take an objection for an answer. 
You sigh, even though you know your boyfriend only has your best interests at heart. He can be so stubborn sometimes …
„A distraction …“, he continues, something in his voice changing that causes you to shiver involuntarily as he leans down, stepping between your legs, looking at you with a teasing smirk on his face. 
„What do you-“ 
Your words are swallowed by his hungry, wild kiss. 
You make a surprised noise, wrapping your arms around Coriolanus’s neck out of pure instinct as his hands settle on your waist, drawing you closer to him as he keeps kissing you, his tongue coaxing your mouth open. You can’t help but moan as you feel his tongue moving against yours. 
Then, suddenly, he’s picking you up from your chair and you wrap your legs around his waist out of instinct as he carries you over to your bed, not once breaking the kiss. Your back hits your soft mattress and Coriolanus swallows the surprised noise you make with his hungry, desperate kisses. 
He breaks the kiss then, looking down at you with a teasing smirk on his lips, before lowering his head to the crook of your neck, sucking at the soft, sensitive skin. His lips curl into a possessive smirk when he hears the mewling, panting noises you make. 
He knows that he’ll leave bruises on your skin - pretty, purple marks that will mark you as his, showing everyone who you belong to. 
„Coryo!“, you gasp, trying to make sense of the world, tangling your hands in his blonde curls and trying to ground yourself, as he continues to relentlessly suck at your soft skin, all the while grinding his hips into yours, creating a delicious, nerve-wrecking tension. 
His lips leave a trail on your skin, from the soft, sensitive skin of your neck, to your collarbone and then lower and lower, until the hem of his shirt you’re wearing gets in the way. 
Breathlessly, your hands leave his hair and you reach down, trying to free yourself from the bothersome garment, but then suddenly, Coryo’s hands are there as well, stoping your motions. 
„No, keep it on“, Coriolanus says, reaching out with his hands to tug the dark grey shirt you’re currently wearing - one of his that you’ve ‚borrowed‘ - back down. His voice is low, his eyes are dark, the expression in them sinful and challenging - a promise. (A threat.) 
„It looks better on you anyways.“ 
You swallow upon hearing the arrogant possessiveness in his voice and clench your thighs together. 
When he notices, Coriolanus just smirks at you. 
You whine, reaching for his hands. „Please, Coryo“, you beg, your eyes finding his. You can’t have him teasing you - not right now, not when he’s already got you this worked up. 
„Please what?“, he asks, still smirking. 
„Please, just - touch me; just do something, Coryo, please.“ 
When he still doesn’t react to your pleas, just keeps smirking at you, you reach out with one of your hands, brushing over the bulge in his pants, before growing bolder and cupping his already hardened length through the material of his trousers. 
Coriolanus closes his eyes then, a low moan escaping his lips. 
„Fuck.“ 
His voice is something between a groan and a whimper as you keep stroking him through the fabric. 
For a split second you toy with the thought of doing the same thing to him he did to you - teasing him, edging him on, only to cruelly withdraw your touch at the last second. But he looks so good right now, his head thrown back, his eyes screwed shut, his lips slightly open, soft whimpers escaping him, you can’t bring yourself to do so. 
You don’t need to - because the next thing you know, Coriolanus is impatiently swatting your hand away, getting rid of his trousers and briefs in mere seconds, before placing his hands on your waist, shifting you, until you’re straddling his lap, your legs on either side of him, your core brushing against his erection. 
You can’t help the loud moan that escapes you then - the friction feels so good and you just want to feel him inside you already. 
„Coryo-“, you start to say, but his hand is already there at your core, roughly yanking at the thin material of your panties. You hear the material tear and you gasp loudly, when, without warning, he pushes two fingers inside you, curling them inside you, immediately finding your sweet spot. 
„Y-you really o-owe me a v-visit to the clothing store“, you pant, trying to form a cohesive sentence as Coriolanus continues to pump his fingers in and out of you at a merciless pace, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust of his fingers. 
Coriolanus just smirks, groaning when he feels your walls clenching around his fingers. „Fuck, not yet“, he pants, removing his hand and causing you to whimper at the sudden feeling of emptiness. „Need to feel you, need to be inside you.“ 
All you can manage is a nod, moaning when he positions you in his lap. You try once again to take of the shirt you’re still wearing, but Coriolanus swats your hands away once again. 
„Keep it on“, he says, his voice low and dangerous. 
All you can manage is a weak nod, because then his grip on your waist is tightening, shifting you forward even more until you’re sinking down on his hard length. 
„Fuck, Coryo.“ Your voice is nothing more than a breathless whimper as you continue to sink down on him, trying to adjust to the stretch. 
Coriolanus however, is too impatient to give you time to adjust, bucking up his hips to thrust up into you the moment you’re fully seated. 
You whimper, feeling his cock hit that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. 
Coriolanus groans, his grip on your waist tightening to guide your movements as he continues to thrust up into you. „Fuck, baby, you look so good riding my cock like that, wearing my shirt …“
You whimper, squeezing your walls around him. 
Coriolanus groans again, his expression clouded with pleasure. „Fuck, keep doing that and I’m not going to last long …“ 
You can’t help it - your walls squeeze around him again. 
A strangled moan escapes him then and you whimper when his thrusts get harder and faster and one of his hands finds its way to your core, brushing over the bundle of sensitive nerves. 
„Fuck- Coryo, please“, you whimper, as the pressure inside you keeps building and building and building. 
„Don’t worry, I’ve got you“, he says, as he continues to thrust into you at a relentless pace, his fingers teasing your clit. 
You do your best to meet his movements with your own, glad for his bruising grip on your hip, guiding your movements. 
„Just like that, you’re doing so good“, Coriolanus praises, sitting up to claim your lips in a hungry kiss. 
You whimper, overcome by all these different sensations - Coriolanus moving unrelentlessly inside you, his fingers on your clit, his lips on yours; turning you to mush in his arms. 
„Coryo!“, you breathlessly try to warn him when you feel your walls clenching around him again, you’re so close and you just want to feel your sweet release. 
„I’ve got you“, he repeats his earlier sentiment, his thrusts becoming even more erratic. „I’ve got you - fuck, you look so good, I could watch you riding me in my clothes forever, fuck-“
It’s his words that do you in, sending you over the edge. 
You come with a loud cry, his name on your lips, shaking in his grip, your walls squeezing him. 
„Fuck, fuck-“
It only takes two more thrusts and then Coriolanus is coming as well, spilling inside you. 
„Fuck, Coryo“, you whimper, still overly sensitive from your orgasm. 
„I’ve got you“, he repeats, pulling out of you, before closing his arms around you, shifting you around until your head lands on his chest and your back hits the soft mattress of the bed. 
You close your eyes as he settles a hand on your stomach, drawing you even closer for a moment. 
You stay like that for a long moment, both of you trying to catch your breath. 
Once you’ve calmed down enough, you notice how unbearably hot you feel - Coriolanus’s body heat is more than warm enough, but you’re still wearing his shirt that’s now drenched through with your sweat. 
You press a quick kiss to his cheek, ignoring the protesting noise Coriolanus makes as you move to sit up again. 
„My turn“, is all you say, as you finally take off his shirt and throw it to the floor, baring your chest to him. 
„What-“ Coriolanus’s remark is swallowed by the loud moan that escapes his lips when you settle back down in his lap, brushing against his erection. 
„My turn“, you repeat, grinning, „and I think it looks better on the floor.“ 
You swallow his reply with a hungry, desperate kiss. And judging by the way he’s squirming beneath you, trying to brush against your core, he probably doesn’t mind too much. 
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someone please get me some holy water so I can cleanse my mind from these smutty thoughts
It’s finally here!! Sorry that it took me so long to get to it, but I’ve been in quite a writing slump these last few days.
Anyways, I’m wishing you all a Happy New Year <3 and thank you so much for all the love you’ve shown my writing lately! Here’s to more content in 2024!! :)
tagging:
@qoopeeya @honey-flustered @spectr3inl0ve @reader-bookling123 @itsnocturna @toogardenheart @theamuz @livius-codex @dominqueeekk @ebsmind @damagdcoda @snows-wife
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wandanatw0rld · 2 months
Text
+18 | men&minor denied
beefy!natasha romanoff x pillowprincess!female reader x college!au
warnings: girlxgirl; Natasha being a boxer; biceps drives reader crazy, so biceps kink(?); semi-public sex; sex on Yelena's car; tattooed Natasha being a popular hot ass; reader being popular as well and Wanda her (platonic?) bestie; a little bit of agnst; smut; brief thigh riding (flashback); Natasha is head over heels about reader boobs and her skirts, supposed cheating, strap on use (r receaving); not proofread.
Just a heads up:
((a) ... - ... (a.))
It means that I'm going to post something about it soon
I guess that's it, have fun ;D
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Natasha Romanoff is an asshole and you hate her with all of your being. That's what you're going to say to everyone, but in reality, you really miss her. Wanda lost the count of how many times did you two broke up and she was there to catch the pieces of your heart; sometimes it was just a small piece, but this time it's a big one. Being popular helpt a bit to forget about the red hair, but not fully since you see her on your class break.
You really liked Natasha, but appearly she liked other women and flirted with them.
On fridays, normally you have a party to go, but not this one, you need to study for finals and join Wanda at her dorm to do this together. You put the backpack strap on your shoulder, but before coming out of the class room, you give a final look in the mirror to check how you look. Hair falling on your back, strawberry lip gloss, light make up on the eyes, perfect as always, but the outfit is probably the most important part of you. Pleated skirt, long sleeve shirt under Natasha's favorite rock band t-shirt, The Marvels, and a your black boots. You know the outfit will drive Natasha insane and you love it.
Leaving the classroom, everyone is looking at you, the most popular girl in the college, good grades, polite and gentle, who see you at first will imediatelly thinks you are a shallow whore, but you're not. However, something that people envy about you, every girl, especially the one you hate the most, is that you date, after you, another popular student in the Avengers University.
Natasha Romanoff has even better grades than you, she is mostly quiet and nice, great at sports, loves boxing. She works at the gym next to campus, so many girls go there just because of her, you hate it, but makes the red hair really happy that people trust and follow her instructions.
You used to love seeing Natasha training, punching hard the bag, her tattoed muscles shining while she was sweating. Her biceps always turned you on, especially when you were doing your homework sitting on the corner, legs crossed, writing things down. Some brief moments, when you look at her and wanted being fucked so bad. And she did. She always did. Natasha never says no to her favorite girl.
(a) ...
"You're so hot in this skirt, Detka" Her fingers stretching you out, you're so wet that they keep slipping out.
"Nat- please... Mhmm... Fuck!" She bites the soft skin on your neck, her sweating body against yours makes you moan really loud. Natasha keeps pushing her digits into your pussy, letting a growl coming through her lips when your nails scratch deep her forearm while the orgasm hits you hard.
"So perfect, malyshka".
... (a.)
You washed your thoughts while walk through the hallways, nodding almost gracefully for some students greeting you, so immersed in your on courtesy that doesn't hear someone calling your name.
"Hey, wait" It's Clint, Natasha's best friend. He's carrying some books. "I've been calling your name like forever. Have you seen, Nat?" So she didn't tell him that you two broke up, Natasha tells him everything.
"No, why?" You didn't lie, really not seen her since that night.
"You know, the finals are coming and has two days that she doesn't come to class. She needs to study" Natasha Romanoff skipping classes, something really critical must happened. Having you two broken up before, she always attended classes. "Can you take these books to her? She is probably at the gym".
No I can't, cause we broke up. You wanted to say that, but instead, you just say:
"Ok, I'll take them" Clint leaves with a short wave and you call Wanda.
"I'm waiting for you" She hums.
"I'm gonna get late, Wands. Clint gave me some books to deliver to Natasha" Wanda rolled her eyes while separating some ingredients on her cabinet. "He said that she's skipping classes".
"You really broke her heart this time, honey" She laughs. You always knew that they both never get along, but never known why - actually you do, although prefer to ignore. "You're gonna get late cause you're gonna get laid" Wanda mocks.
"No, I'm not. Bye, love ya".
"Love ya". Wanda, goofly, smiles.
The gym is closed apparenlly, but just for cleaning or something else that you didn't bother to read. You entered, there's loud rock music and you're sure that's Natasha, The Marvels playing really loud. You know that she do this when mad, the last time was about her father, she was so angry that her punches almost fall apart the punching bag plus you had the most insane orgasm when she fucked you from behind in Steve's office.
(b) ...
"Malyshka, you're so good to me" Her nails digging on your waist, her hips bumping against your butt, strap sliding real smooth because of your soaked cunt. "So beautiful accepting everything for me" You feel her front on your back, teeth biting hard the skin on your ribs.
Natasha's fingers starts rubbing your needy bud.
"Nat... I'm gonna... Fuck!" You bite your hand, the small room insanely hot. People, who starts their activities at the gym, their voices on the other side of the door add another layer of lust.
"It's okay, pretty girl. You can cum on my cock" The walls tighten Natasha's cock, she grip your jaw very softly, way more different than what her hips are doing, turning you to face her, kiss feather-like, her tongue tangled on yours. You feels the nod in your stomach undoing.
"Oh God... Fuck!" Your teeth marked on the back of your hands.
... (b.)
Slowly, you went to the room. You were right, Natasha was angry, fists punching so hard that it's seems the whole world was shaking. Sweating and shining biceps made you moan in your mind. She sees you, then stops the music.
"Hi". You greet, Natasha analyzes you up and down, don't get to see it but her pupils has grownth in lust when she sees you in that skirt, it always worked to turn her on. You take a few steps closer, her red hair tied with a braid, she's wearing a top tank blue shirt, breasts beautifully together, cotton shorts. "Why aren't you going to classes?".
"Cause I didn't want to" She answered, cold and sharp.
"Clint asked me to bring you these" You show her books, steps getting closer, very carefully. "What's going on? You just do this when you're mad".
"I'm fine, thanks" She took the books from your hands.
"Okay. Bye" You turn your back to leave.
"Wait" Natasha licked her lips, the sweat make some strands of her hair stick on her cheeks and temples. "Yelena is coming".
"But you love your sister".
"I do, but not this weekend" You sat on the edge of the ring.
"Why?" Natasha's breath finally gets in order.
"She bringing her girlfriend to a double date" .
"Double date with- Oh" You understand, Natasha follows your action, sitting, being this close, you can smell the sweat mixed to her woody perfume, it drives you crazy.
"And my parents are coming too and I didn't tell anyone that we broke up" You look at her, arms cross, her tattooed biceps all sweat and firm, God you love her arms.
(c)...
"Malyshka, it tickles" your teeth dragging on her arms, fingers squeeze them while your hips start moving on her thigh.
"I can't helped. I love your arms" You find the right spot and then starting to move on that.
"Do you, detka?" She kisses your neck, her fingers on your waist, helping with friction on your needy bud.
"Fuck" Your nails scratching her forearms.
"Do you want to sit on my arms and make a mess on them?" You nod, her husky voice made you moan next to her ear. "That's what you want, pretty girl?"
"Yeah" Your moves are frantic, everything you could do is to imagine. "Oh God, I want".
"Yeah, I'm your God. Am I?" You just nod, rubbing more and more your pussy against her thigh, clit desperate to attention.
... (c.)
"I was thinking... Maybe you can pretend we're still together?" Natasha is very close now.
"Nat, I don't think is good idea".
"Please, I'll do anything" Her green limpid eyes never failed to make you crumble, especially when she needed something.
(d) ...
"Pretty please, malyshka" You're under her body, hands sat on her shoulders. "Just a little bit, I promise".
"Nat, it will hurt" Natasha would never do anything to harm you, but she needs your boobs so badly now. Just a tiny little bit, it won't kill.
"I'll be quick" You know that's a lie, when it comes to play with your breasts, Natasha is never quick. "You can even stay lying. Please...".
"Okay, but be carefull, you know they're sore".
"I will, detka" Natasha pull up your shirt, it's actually hers, but you love to use. Your nipples pinch in pain, being on your period, both of you not having sex for almost a whole week made Natasha really desperate, seeking for any opportunity to get physical. Not being allowed to touch your breasts, her favorite part of you, drives her crazy.
You moan in a mix of pain and relief when her tongue circled your left nipple.
"Nat..." She's smiling on your breast, caressing, torturing you. Natasha suck it, her thumbs on your stomach going slow, really slow. "Nat, we can't." You stop her hands.
"Don't worry, detka. I know what I'm doing" Her digits passing through the waistband of your underwear.
... (d.)
"If you do this for me, I'll promise to never ask anything to you" You look at her, green eyes still looking deep in your soul. "Pretty please, malyshka" You can smell her scent more and more closely.
"Please, don't call me that" Oh, but I will. Natasha knows exactly what turns you on. When her accent come real thick while she's fucking you, or in the middle of a fight and happened to curse someone. When she calls you 'detka' and even better 'malyshka', you know what these two words means and it's so sexy and smooth that it never failed to make you forget why were mad at her.
"Call you what, detka?".
"I hate you!" You hold your breath.
"No, you don't" Her fingers touch your thighs. "God, I love you in these skirts. Remember how easy it was to put my hands under" And she does, you close your eyes. "Oh... you hate me so much that your panties are this soak... Tsk... So pathetic, malyshka".
"No, you're pathetic" You get up, anger warming your ears up, hating that Natasha have this much effect on you. "You're an asshole, Natasha".
"I'm an asshole?!" Natasha imitates you, getting up. "You're the one who broke up with me".
"I broke up with you because you cheat on me with Maria".
"My god, you're so stupid. I didn't do anything, for the thousandth time, I have zero interest in her" Natasha's nails dig into her palms, you see the red lines in there. "I want you, why is that so hard to believe?".
"Everybody saw you two at Tony's party, Natasha. Or her mouth wasn't glued to your ear, huh?" You never act so insecure before, always knew what you wanted, what to do, but when Natasha came and made you feel like the most important woman in the world, you started to fear losing everything you both had and the red hair realize that she prefers to be with somebody else.
"She was acting like an idiot and I pushed her. I would never do something to hurt you, you know that".
"I don't know anything anymore, Natasha" You turn your back to her, collecting the backpack.
"Please, be my date tomorrow. I want to impress my dad" Natasha is desperate and you feel terrible, almost at least. "Pretty please, malyshka".
"Okay, but will be the last time we'll be together".
"Fine". Natasha's clench her jaw, she takes what she get.
(e)...
Natasha was in your dorm at eight, the exact time she texted you last night, Wanda was there to support you, they greeted each other seriously and strictly. You went to pick up your things, leaving the two women together at the tiny living room.
"If I see her cry after this dinner, I'll kill you, Romanoff" The now blonde, Natasha, smiled at Wanda.
"Oh, and let her just for you?" Wanda lose her composure just a little. "Nah, I don't think so, witch".
"I'm ready" . Wow. Is everything that Natasha Romanoff can think, the black dress glued on your body, curvy waist well molded by it, but clearly her favorite part of you, your breasts squeezed together, the black high heels wetting up her core. Correction: everything that Natasha can think is how much she wants to devour you.
The stopped car in front of the building is not hers, it's probably Yelena's, but you didn't bother to ask about it. Natasha always liked motorcycles.
"You've changed your hair" Noticing that made Natasha really happy, the blonde hair it's cut on her jaw line, you used to like the red hair, it brings a very 'don't fuck with me' vibes, but now she looks more powerful, plus that suit really fits her. You look her up and down and almost lose the track of what happened between you two, if it wasn't for that, you'll probably grab Natasha to a kiss, her strong hands bring you to her lap, then they go to your butt, squeezing, dipping her nails on it.
"Did you listen to anything that I said?" You both are in front of the fancy restaurant, Red Room, you never went there before, it makes you worried a bit. "Don't worry, my parents will pay".
... (e.)
You're walking alone, if it weren't for you not paying attention to the road on the way with Natasha, you'd probably know where you were going. The dinner was a disaster, Natasha's family and Kate probably think you're crazy or have a mental ill, it's cold and you don't have any idea of what neibourhood is it.
You're feeling terrible, the look in Natasha's face when you look for a confirmation about her mom and dad already knowing about you two made you feel really sad, the whole purpose of having that dinner was to make you both get back together. Thinking and thinking about it, you're more lost than before.
"Hi, cute thing. Are you lost?" A man in a circle formed by five men, asked you. "We can help you?"
"All of us" The other man says, he has a cigarette between his lips, his nails are filthy.
"No, I'm fine. Thank you". You press your arms onto your body.
"Oh don't be like that" The first guy comes to you, his hands touching your skin. "You're so cold. We can warm you up, baby".
"I said no, thanks" You pushed him.
"What a courageous whore, aren't you?" His hands try to grab your face.
"There you are!" You never loved to see Natasha on this night so much than you do now. "I told you to wait that I'd give you a ride. Oh, good evening, gentlemen" Knowing the blonde really well, she's just being polite, but deep down, Natasha wants to kill every men in that street, especially the one who touched you.
"Why don't you join us?" The man ask. You run from his grasp and entered the car.
"No, thanks. We're late to meet our friends. Maybe another day. Good night".
You're freezing and Natasha notices, so she closes the windows and puts her jacket over your shoulders, you grab the fabric staring at your feet. The silent is stranger, but at the same time it is not.
Starting to think about everything that happened, if it wasn't for Natasha you'll probably dead or worse, raped in some alley. You wanted to say 'thank you', but you're too afraid and confuse to do it. The car has stopped at your dorm building.
"Are you okay?" You nod. "Look, about the dinner, I'm-" But what Natasha was going to say has become unknown, your lips on hers, hand on her face while the other one unfastens your seat belt. Tasting her lips after days makes you really happy, you feel the arms circling your waist, trying to bring you close. Your nails scratch the side of her neck, red marks glissining, Natasha push her tongue into your mouth, you releasing her from the seat belt before climbing on her lap. The feeling of having her tongue trapping yours made you moan, wanting more. You can feel the thightness on her pants, she's wearing a strap. God, she is. You push her, hair and lipstick all messy, she is a mount of huff and puffs. "You didn't let me finish".
"I love you too" Your hands captured her face, her beautiful and pierced green eyes are shining, but there's no tears. "I'm sorry for everything, Nat".
"I'm sorry too" She rests her forehead on yours. "I don't want to be apart from you, ever. It sucks had to look at you and not able to talk or touch" Her hands stroke your hair to the back, on your ears. "I want you to be mine".
"Then make me yours" Her eyes are all black, there is no hint of green on them, you pass to the backseat, Natasha does the same. You take off her blazer, hands all sloppy on the white shirt, pop up the buttons, then throw it anywhere. You kiss her jaw line, chin, bite the skin while she smiles at you, going down to her neck, sucking, marking her, your on way to make Natasha yours. Hands unbuckling her pants, strap bulge against your needy cunt. "Nat, kiss me" you don't have to say twice, she kisses you, it's more urgent, breathless, her hands pulling your dress to your waist, the top following it.
"Your breasts are amazing". She grabbed them, pulling together, thumbs circling your nipples, getting hard. Natasha's eyes are shining in adoration, she could watch you forever.
"Nat, just fuck me" You pull her close, tongue licking her upper lip really slow, the action made Natasha moan, desperately taking her pants off and throwing with the shirt. After unbuckling her bra, your fingertips touch every tattoo that the blond hair has in her shoulders, torso, her pierced nipple getting hard while you slightly pinch them.
"Alright, detka" Pulling your panties off your body, she slightly rubs your clit, feeling your wet pussy and then positioned the strap on your entrance, slowly pushing through your folders, her hands resting on your waist.
"Slow..." You softly pushed by her waist bone, it hurts a little, it's been a while since you used the strap, your legs trapping her waist, high heels landed on her ass, throwing your head back while her lips sucks your right nipple. "Nat... Oh f-fuck!" Your nails dig into the back of her head, grabbing the short blonde hair, while hers on your waist. It hurts like hell.
"God, I'd give anything to feeling you tight around me" You bring her to a kiss, her strap starting to hit your soft spot. "I love you. Fuck!" Her thrusts make the car shakes, you bite your lips. "Don't worry, detka. Let me hear your moans, please".
And you do, it's enough to improve her movements, her face in the crook of your neck.
"You're so perfect" Her teeth bite the skin there, she snifs your scent then licks your neck, marking, thumb rubbing your needy bud. "I'm making you mine. All mine. Just mine" Natasha starts to curse in russian, that turned you on even more, you need to learn it, anything to know what's she's saying. Holding her face in your hands, you kiss her again, slow and passionately. Her thumb moving on your clit, nails scratching her shoulders to her lower back, hips moving on her hand, Natasha look down on her cock, your cunt beautifully taking it, she growls on your ear. "You should see this, pretty girl. The way your pussy is taking me". It drives you to insanity.
"Nat... I'm gonna... Fuck" You bite her shoulder, coming down in a painfull and wet way, teeth dipping into her arm, nails in her forearm.
"Hold it, just a bit. I'm coming too" Her thrusts are sloppy, the strap coming off your folders, you need to help her, so your thumb touch her needy clit. "Shit!" It's everything that she can think now.
You came together, her mouth against yours, sharing a messy kiss. Her hips stopping gradually, forehead on your shoulder.
"You were perfect, malyshka" You're breathless, sweating, your hair is a mess.
"Nat, I need to help you. You didn't cum" Natasha sweet smile at you, thankful.
"You don't have to, detka" She kisses your cheek. "I'm alright, don't worry".
"Nat... I'm hungry" You didn't eat anything at the dinner and you're always hungry after sex, Natasha remember all the time to leave some snacks for both of you on her headboard.
"I know, detka. Let me just get myself together".
You both put back your clothes, sharing affectionate smiles, but you wear her jacket now, Natasha smile at you, really happy when your eyes meet the cheeseburger and milkshake in front of you.
"So good".
"I bet it is, malyshka". Her hands stroke your hair behind your ears.
"Your family hates me" You realize while drink a sip of strawberry milkshake.
"No, they don't. Was my father idea to arrange that dinner and try to makes us be together again" Natasha shyly smiles. "My mom say that the only good ideas he had in his entire life was to marry her and coming to America" She laughs.
"Yelena and Kate? My God, they think I'm crazy". Eyes wide open while you wipe your mouth.
"No they don't, but Kate will definitely win twenty bucks".
"Why?" You ask finishing your burger, Natasha seems ashamed to answer, but she does.
"They bet we'll have sex in Yelena's car" You're shocked, your mouth is a perfect 'o', cheeks all red and hot.
"Make her lose".
"Why?" you slap Natasha's arm.
"Because it's your sister's car, Natasha" Hidding your face between your hands, you whine. "It's so embarrasing".
"Come on, detka... We had sex planty of times in Steve's office and Professor Carter class room".
"Oh God!".
"Exactly, you said that everytime".
"Stop!".
"I'm sorry" She laughs again. God, she missed being like this with you.
"I'm breaking up with you again" you said embarrased.
"No, please. I'll stop". She kisses your cheek. "No more jokes".
"Thanks". You snuggle on her body, yawning.
"Okay, let's take you home" Natasha grabs a few dollar bills in her wallet and put it on the table.
"Can I sleep with you?" You ask, shyly.
"Of course you can, malyshka".
You both go to Natasha's place, her parents gave to her as gift for entering the college, living all alone, she invites you to live there many times, but always dismissed her. It's warm and quiet, she take off her shoes and you do the same, following her like a little duck and she thinks is adorable.
"Do you wanna take a bath?" You denied, her hands on your hips, while yours play with her blonde hair.
"I just want to get some sleep" You hug her, inhale her scent. "I liked your hair".
"It was Yelena's idea, she said that I had to change to have you back" Lips pressed on her collarbone, her skin so soft and warm. "But I liked my red hair though" You squeezed her, hands passing through her blazer. "I'm happy with your approval". They find a place on her small back, your lips still marking her skin. "Malyshka, it's hard to thinking with you doing this".
"It is?" You said it with a playful smile.
"Yeah". Pushing her, you laced your hands together, Natasha look at it with sweet smile.
"I'll stop then".
"Okay, let's change". Natasha bedroom is almost all white, except to the master wall, the one that the headboard of her bed is. It's a very soft pink, you wondered why she picks that color.
"Nat, why this wall is different from the others?" There's no better time to do it then now, at least you think. She look at you in a very softly and calm way, like when a child ask something really cute.
"Because remind me of you" It's simple, but made your cheeks get all red and warm. "When we were so busy during test weeks, tons of homework and I am really stressed cause we can't see each other properly, I remember of you, of your lip gloss" She is the one with red cheeks now. "It's stupid, but helps me relax".
"It's not stupid" You hold her face, pecking her cheek. "It's cute and I like it". She smiles at you, thankful, and then pull you until her closet.
"You left some clothes in here". You know that, but you're going to grab hers, anyways. "I'm gonna take a glass of water. I'll be right back, malyshka".
"Okay" Natasha leaves the room and it's enough for you to sneek around while putting her clothes. You choose another The Marvels t-shirt, taking off your dress in front of the mirror, there's marks everywhere, on your breasts, neck, Natasha's scretchs all over your waist, thank god is sunday, otherwise you'll have to wear make up.
After brushing your teeth, you snuggled into her bed, the pillows smells exactly like her.
"Sorry for taking so long, I had to comeback to Yelena's car. I forgot this" Your cheeks are red, crimson even, when you see the strap on her hand. "Are you sleepy?" You nod, she's bringing one glass, put it on the table next to bed. "I'm gonna change and then we'll sleep, okay malyshka?".
"Okay, babe". You said, smiling under the blankets.
"Babe? I can get used to that". She caress your nose with hers.
It took a few minutes until Natasha take off her clothes and brush her teeth, top tank shirt and undies. She comes next to you.
"My clothes, huh?".
"Smells like you" You said timid.
"And now, like you" she kisses your neck, hands on your waist, going down, a little bit more on your thighs, nothing sexual, she just loves to touch you. "I love you, malyshka".
"I love you too, babe" Natasha smiles, you strokes her blonde hair on her ears.
"Can you say it again?" .
"Say what? Babe?" .
"Yeah, but say that you love me".
"I love you... Babe" Smiling, she pulls you close, your face on the crook of her neck.
"Good night, malyshka".
"Good night, babe" Natasha chuckles, squeezing you on her arms.
Natasha Romanoff is a soft dork and you love her with all of your being, that's what you're gonna say to everyone from now on. And you'll never want to miss her again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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saphronethaleph · 4 months
Text
Literary Illusions
“It’s ironic,” Palpatine said, shaking his head. “He could save others from death, but not himself.”
Anakin frowned.
“And this is something the Jedi wouldn’t have told me?” he asked.
“Of course not,” Palpatine replied. “Is it a story you’ve heard?”
“Well, yes,” Anakin said. “Just now, from you. But not before then… and that surprises me, Chancellor.”
Palpatine shrugged. “I think you’ll find, Anakin, that the Jedi have not been telling you everything.”
“Maybe not, but… honestly, that sounds like exactly the kind of thing they’d tell me,” Anakin said.
Palpatine frowned.
“...what?” he asked.
“You know,” Anakin said. “Some Sith Lord works out how to bring people back to life from the dead, but his apprentice kills him and doesn’t bring him back to life because the Sith are inherently self destructive. If the two of them had worked together and been able to trust one another, they’d have been immortal.”
He shrugged. “It’s a good illustration of the inherently self destructive nature of the Dark Side, and it’s the dichotomy of how the Dark Side leads you to seek power in order to achieve goals that you then discard as irrelevant, because they’re not directly related to gaining power… hold on a second.”
Palpatine was a little distracted by trying to avoid mentally kicking himself, so it took him somewhat more than a second to notice what Anakin was doing.
“...Anakin?” he said. “Are you getting your comlink out?”
“Yeah,” Anakin replied. “Going to text Obi-Wan, ask him what he thinks of the story. Maybe there’s some kind of detail I missed which makes it less of a good illustration of the different worldviews and mindsets of the Jedi and the Sith.”
The Knight shrugged, his thumbs tapping away at his comlink. “He probably knows it, he knows all of the old stories.”
Palpatine blinked several times.
“...don’t,” he said, then very discreetly scrambled for a reason why. “It’s the middle of a performance. We don’t want to interrupt them.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s on silent,” Anakin replied, with a shrug. “Or vibrate. Did I put it on vibrate… hang on, Chancellor, I’ll make sure it’s on silent…”
He turned the comlink over, then a loud bwing sounded.
“Oh, right, I forgot to set it to do not disturb mode,” Anakin said. “Hang on… uh… yeah, there we go, I forgot I added all these custom modes. I’ve been missing a lot of sleep lately.”
“Perhaps-” Palpatine began, but Anakin spoke over him.
“Huh,” he said. “He says he’s never heard of it either. Wants to know where I heard about it, it looks like he’s really interested… or maybe he’s trying to tell me about a death stick vendor, he’s terrible with multiglyphs and he thinks he’s good at them.”
Anakin glanced at the Chancellor, hoping for some solidarity, then visibly noticed that the Chancellor was several decades older than him and abandoned that.
“Is there a book I can get the whole story from?” he asked, instead. “Obi-Wan is better at nuances, like I say.”
“That is not the point,” Palpatine said, trying not to get visibly angry. “The point is that there is a way to save your loved ones!”
“Maybe there used to be, but not any more,” Anakin shrugged. “Like you said, this was a Sith thing and the Sith are all dead. Well, unless General Grievous is a Sith who knows how to heal people, but I doubt it given how much he got hurt, and I’m not sure Dooku knew it either… hey, if this story needs to be publicized more then maybe we could have them do a play of that instead?”
Palpatine blinked several times, as he tried to keep up with a Jedi with possible undiagnosed ADHD and found himself discovering a lack of talent for podracing.
“What?” he asked.
“You know, a play,” Anakin explained. “Dramatic betrayals, lost loved ones, it would probably do numbers. It’d be better than this, anyway.”
He waved his hand at the ongoing performance of Squid Lake.
“...what is wrong with Squid Lake?” Palpatine said, before reflecting that that had really been a stupid question for him to ask and that he should have asked a much better one.
“Well, uh,” Anakin began, looking a bit abashed. “Actually now I say it out loud this might be really culturally insensitive of me, but to me this play might as well be eighty minutes of people boasting about having enough water to swim in.”
“It’s a ballet,” Palpatine told him, now completely having lost control of the conversation.
“It’s just a less scary version of Sarlacc Pit,” Anakin went on. “Someone tried to drown me in a lake once, because they thought I couldn’t swim, but floating on sand is much harder, you barely have to do anything to escape a lake. You just float.”
Very belatedly, Anakin caught sight of Palpatine’s look of total befuddlement, and shrugged.
“Watto was a lot of things,” he said. “But he had culture.”
Palpatine’s hands twitched, as he very seriously considered the idea of abandoning literal centuries of Sith planning and decades of personal political advancement in favour of stabbing Anakin somewhere it would hurt.
It was extraordinarily tempting.
“...hold on,” Anakin said, slowly. “I guess… the thing I’d like most at the moment is for… and that means… this is literally one of those times when I could fall to the Dark Side because of it, like Darth Plagueis.”
He bestowed a grateful smile on Palpatine. “Thanks, Chancellor! I need to make a call, I guess the ballet won’t mind.”
Palpatine was so thrown by the swerve that he couldn’t think of a way to stop Anakin in the few seconds he had.
“Love?” Anakin said, into his commlink. “I… think we need to come clean, because otherwise I’ll fall to the Dark Side.”
Palpatine’s eye twitched.
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ckret2 · 4 months
Text
Chapter 54 of everybody being really eager to kill their prisoner human Bill Cipher for good: the gang's trying a new way to create fuel for the one weapon guaranteed to destroy Bill.
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It goes so great.
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As Ford drove to Northwest Manor, Dipper skimmed through the introduction to Flatworld, where Edward Bishop Bishop was pretending that his book had been dictated to him by a sentient square; but he couldn't focus on it. He sighed, shut the book, and stared out the passenger window at the passing trees.
"Something on your mind?" Ford asked.
"I'm thinking about the Axolotl's poem again. The one about Bill."
"Ah. Still trying to remember the rest?"
"Kinda. Mabel and I are working on it together," Dipper said. "But it's not that. I've just been wondering... what if the poem is... you know, part of a prophecy about Bill or something? Mabel remembered another line of the poem—'A different form, a different time.' What if the Axolotl was telling us why Bill's back as a human? Maybe we need him here—to, to use his powers to fight off a bigger threat or something. Do you think that's possible?" He held back another question: what happens if we kill him before then?
Ford frowned thoughtfully. "I've been thinking about the Axolotl as well," he said. "About the worlds I visited that called it a god of criminals, tyrants, and luck. That sounds to me like the exact kind of being that would be Bill's ally. And it's odd how resistant Bill was to telling us anything about the Axolotl, when it simply passed over town for a few seconds and then moved on. Why the secrecy? How does Bill think it benefits him for us not to know about it?" Ford shook his head. "I think you're on to something, Dipper—I think whatever the Axolotl told you is important. The question is: important for whom?"
Dipper's stomach turned. The Axolotl had radiated such kindness; it was hard for Dipper to believe it could be up to anything evil with Bill. But then—Dipper clutched at Flatworld with the damning biography on the back—but then, how many people had Bill himself fooled with the benevolent teacher act?
Dipper understood now why "Don't Trust Bill" had so quickly turned into "Trust No One." Even when you knew that there was only one real enemy—even when you knew that most people out there were still reasonably honest and friendly—you could never tell just how far Bill's shadow stretched. "I guess that's true. We can't really know."
"We can't know yet. But it is worth trying to figure out," Ford said. "I wish I could tell you where to start looking for answers. For now... we'll just have to consider anything possible."
Ford was right. But all the same, every time Dipper paranoidly asked himself What if Grunkle Ford is right, what if the Axolotl really is on Bill's side, a second, even more paranoid, even more worried voice asked, But what if he isn't?
####
When they arrived, Fiddleford was already in his lab, hard at work on the miniature particle accelerator they'd come to see him about.
"The paradox what was powering it started yowling" Fiddleford said. "So obviously it ain't a paradox no more."
Ford grimaced. "That does lay to rest whether the cat is alive or dead."
"Sure does," Fiddleford said, sighing. "So I let the cat outside and I'm rebuilding the whole contraption to run on a more robust paradox. I hope you've got better news for me, Stanford."
"We hope so too. I think Dipper might have the solution to our fuel generation problem."
They briefly explained Dipper's unfortunate puppet incident last summer—Fiddleford had to take a break in the middle to grab a cup of coffee, "To steady my nerves,"—its ongoing effects on his sleep, and the new developments of the last few days, culminating in Dipper learning how to project his soul out of his body—
—which, Ford now realized, he probably should have expected Fiddleford to take poorly.
"Sweet sasparilla!" Fiddleford kicked over his chair while jumping onto the nearest table. "You're dead?!"
"What?" Dipper said. "No, I—"
"You're like a ghost possessing a zombie!"
Dipper thought that over. "Whoa..."
But, even though Fiddleford thought the whole affair went against the rightful order of the world, he agreed that it was a sound idea and worth trying. "It's lucky that my tater tot and I hunted out all the ghosts in this place during our spring cleaning," he said, opening a cabinet. He retrieved what looked like a pair of vacuums redesigned to be worn like backpacks with an assortment of random electronics dangling from wires. He held up a set of goggles and headphones hanging off one of the vacuums. "I invented these doohickeys that'll let you see and hear ghosts! They'll let us keep in contact with Dipper while he's out of his body." He set the vacuums on a table near the miniature particle accelerator and said, "First, though—Stanford, I need you to help me rebuild this machine."
"Of course." Ford turned away from the vacuum he'd been inspecting to look at the miniature particle accelerator.
Dipper said, "Wait, there are other ghosts in this mansion?"
"Yep!"
"I hunted one at the Northwests' big party last year," Dipper said. "How many more ghosts are in here?"
"We've caught, oh... thirty or forty so far."
"Seriously? That's amazing." Dipper was already thinking about the amazing Ghost Harassers episode this place could have been. Maybe even a miniseries.
"Aw, it weren't that hard. If you leave the TV on, they like to flock around it to watch. All you've gotta do is hide in the corner until a whole big bunch of 'em are gathered 'round—and then ya get them!"
"Oh," Dipper said. "Huh. I just tricked one into getting trapped in a silver mirror."
"Well, that's right impressive too. I never woulda thunk of that," Fiddleford said. "Me and Tate have been sucking them into cooling pouches in these here vacuums and then sticking the pouches in a chest freezer down in the dungeon! Maybe I oughta line the freezer with silver."
"This place has a dungeon?" Dipper asked.
Before Fiddleford could respond, Ford asked, "Which parts are we replacing?" He was inspecting the miniature particle accelerator.
"All of them!"
Ford gave Fiddleford a surprised look. "All of them?"
"Yep! Every last one!"
"Is the design changing that much?"
"Nope! It's staying exactly the same!"
"Then... why can't we just use the same machine we already have?"
"We will be using the same machine!" Fiddleford smiled mischievously. "Or will we?"
"Ah! I see! The particle accelerator of Theseus," Ford said. "Very clever."
"And kinder on the local stray cats, I reckon."
Dipper offered his assistance, but the work involved too much welding and buzzsawing for him to try untrained, so he was directed to sit a safe distance away with the first aid kit. At least it gave him a chance to read some more. He had to shove aside a couple flashlights and the glue grenade to reach where the slim book had slid to the bottom of his backpack during their walk from the car.
He skimmed over some of the worldbuilding looking for the story before he realized the story was the wordbuilding and looped back. It was a lot bleaker than he expected, even after Mabel's warning. Rigid class system, oppressive government, all kinds of horrifying shape prejudices... Frustrating dream visits to the ignorant line people in the first dimension who didn't believe in the second dimension, and to the self-absorbed King Zero in the point-sized zeroth dimension who thought a whole universe was contained inside him... A just as frustrating visit from a sphere who simply couldn't explain the third dimension in a way the square protagonist could understand, which was even more annoying since the square had just seen how the first dimension couldn't comprehend the second for the same reasons, so why couldn't he accept the possibility of a third dimension he couldn't imagine? Dipper got that it was supposed to be a metaphor to help three-dimensional readers understand that not being able to visualize a fourth dimension didn't mean it was impossible; but still. Come on, man. Don't be stupid.
On the other hand, at least now Dipper had a framework to understand the concept of higher dimensions and probably a leg up on next year's geometry. Would high school geometry cover four-dimensional space?
After a couple of hours of work and a break for lunch, the miniature particle accelerator was rebuilt and ready for another attempt to generate fuel. Fiddleford pulled on one of his ghost vacuums like a backpack, put on the set of connected headphones and goggles, and settled his glasses on over the goggles. "Y'all ready?"
"Ready," Ford said. He was seated at the accelerator's monitors, holding the jug that would contain any NowUSeeitNowUDontium they generated, and wearing the other vacuum—with the goggles over his glasses, and he was a bit worried about how Fiddleford had positioned his.
"Ready," Dipper said, a tad less certainly. What if he couldn't do it today? What if he'd never actually been able to do it last night and the whole thing really had been a dream?
But Fiddleford flipped the accelerator's power on, stepped back, and said, "All right! Do your thing!"
"Okay." Dipper stared straight at the machine, and—eugh—thought about degloving his body from his soul, peeling out of his skin fingers first.
This was only the second time he'd left his body deliberately. He'd observed in the past that the mindscape was strangely gray and still compared to the real world—but he'd never realized just how stark and swift the change was, like all the color and warmth had been abruptly sucked from reality. He shivered.
Ford inhaled sharply. Fiddleford stumbled back against the nearest table and yelped, "Flipping flapjacks!"
"You can both still see me?" Dipper said. "Can you hear me, too?"
"Loud and clear," Ford said.
"Like the voices of the dead." Fiddleford shuddered. "Welp, let's get this over with. I don't like all this ghost business. It ain't natural."
Ford gave him an amused look. "Since when have you ever been concerned about what's 'natural'? Didn't the engineering club vote you 'most likely to build a robot that flies in the face of God'?"
"You hush! There's nothing unnatural about iron, electromagnetism, and flamethrowers."
Dipper studied his body's face, its eyes pointed blankly toward the particle accelerator. "Well, I'm looking at the experiment, but I'm definitely not thinking about it. I think that's half of the paradox?"
"That's right," Fiddleford said. "Now, you just—float yerself on over to the other side of the accelerator, and think about it without looking at it."
"Right." Dipper positioned himself directly across the accelerator from his body, shut his eyes, and tried to think experimental thoughts. He didn't know much about Dontium besides what Ford had written about it in Journal 3—that it was inert when you were looking at it and radioactive when you weren't—so, if the miniature particle accelerator generated any, would he get blasted with radiation? Or was his body staring at the accelerator enough to keep it inert? But no—it was supposed to fill up the jug Ford was holding, right? Ford was observing it. Dipper tried to imagine what must be happening inside the accelerator; how did it work, would particles spontaneously generate in the tubes? Maybe they circled around until they fell into the hose to the jug...
He heard Ford gasp. "Fiddleford, look at this— Don't listen to me Dipper, just keep—keep thinking whatever you were thinking!"
"Is it working?"
"It was! Don't let us distract you."
Dipper tried to ignore the sound of Fiddleford running over to Ford, and started humming to drown out their hushed conversation. That was good, right? It meant the experiment was working. Keep thinking about that—experiment. Experiment. Expeeeriment. ... He wondered if trying to do the experiment by putting himself and Tyrone on either side of the accelerator would have worked, or if it had to be Dipper's soul and his body—
"Hot diggety!" Fiddleford shouted. "We've reached critical mass!"
"What does that mean, is it bad?" Dipper opened one eye a crack, trying to squint enough that he couldn't see the particle accelerator. "Is it gonna explode?"
Ford explained, "It means we've generated enough Dontium that it can sustain its own existence. Now, even if you get distracted, what we've already generated will remain. It can only go up from here."
"Wow," Dipper said. "That only took, what, a couple of minutes?"
"Less than that! During our last attempt, we tried for hours without reaching critical mass," Ford said. "Your idea was right on the money. Excellent work, Dipper."
Dipper grinned. After all that anxiety, it was almost a letdown how easy it was, but the coolness factor made up for it. He could just imagine the conversations the first week of high school: What did I do over summer break? Oh, nothing much. Just synthesized a new element. To fuel a weapon custom-designed to kill an immortal chaos god. And did I mention I was a ghost at the time? It didn't quite top last summer's adventures, but...
Then something went wrong.
There was a noise halfway between the electric buzz of a tesla coil and the rip of Velcro being torn apart. A stench like burning hair filled the air. A line of shifting colorful light began worming its way out of the center of the particle accelerator and up into the air.
"Oh no. Ohhh no!" Fiddleford grabbed his head. "The micro-rips! The threadbare fabric of reality! Our experiment put too much of a strain on it! We tore straight through!" One foot bounced agitatedly, "Ohhh, I knew I shoulda run some calculations before substituting in Dipper for you and Stanley."
Dipper gasped as the line of light began to agonizingly stretch open wider. Reality began seeping over its edges and dripping through into the kaleidoscopic miasma beyond. It developed a second horizontal rip across its middle as reality stretched beyond endurance in multiple directions. "What—is that?" He was afraid he knew.
"A dimensional rift," Fiddleford said.
"The Nightmare Realm," said Ford.
The last frayed thread holding reality together snapped apart, and the rift tore open wide, fully exposing the Earth to the roaring roiling chaos beyond. 
They screamed.
"Hello?" A giant set of dentures with stubby arms and legs leaned through the rift. "Oh hey! Aren't you the guys that killed Bill?"
They screamed again.
"Is screaming how humans say hi?" the monster asked. "I'm Teeth. Aaah!" He turned toward Ford. "Hey! Fingers! Lookin' less electrocuted than the last time I saw you—"
Ford socked Teeth in the incisor, knocking him back through the rift. "Back, you! You and your 'friends' are not welcome in this dimension!"
"Ow. What the heck, man."
Fiddleford shouted, "Don't stop observing the Dontium!" He bounded across the room on all four to scoop up the milk jug and stare at it. 
Ford nearly toppled through the rift, and had to grab onto the miniature particle accelerator as the heaviest nearby object to anchor himself. The rift sucked on reality like a vacuum, and the longer it was open the more powerful it grew.
Over the roar of the rift, Dipper yelled "What do we do?!"
"We have to seal it! Before it sucks all of Gravity Falls into the Nightmare Realm!"
"How?!"
Last summer, the instant Bill had no longer been around to maintain the dimensional rift, it had also sucked reality into it, starting with everything that properly belonged in the Nightmare Realm; but then it had also quickly sealed itself back shut. On the other hand, this rift was just opening wider and wider. Maybe it wasn't like the rift Bill had used to enter Gravity Falls, then? Maybe it was structured more like the wormholes that had been left behind after Weirdmageddon—
"I've got it!" Ford picked up Dipper's body—trying not to shudder at how lifeless it felt—and unzipped his backpack. "Is the alien adhesive grenade still in here?"
"It should be! Let me see." Dipper floated over to peer into his backpack.
The rift was already strong enough to drag at Ford's clothing. The lightest objects in the room lifted into the air and were sucked through. Papers. Pencils. Coffee mugs. Dipper's soul.
He screamed. "GRUNKLE FORD!"
"Dipper!" Ford grabbed for Dipper's ankle, but his hand passed right through. Ford's blood ran cold as Dipper tumbled head over heels into the Nightmare Realm.
"Look at that," Teeth said, watching Dipper soar by. "Dinner delivery."
There was no difference between the mindscape and reality in the Nightmare Realm, if Ford followed Dipper  through he'd be able to get a grip on Dipper there. But how would he carry Dipper back to Earth without him melting through Ford's grasp the moment they were through the rift? Didn't matter, grab Dipper first, then figure it out—
Fiddleford shoved the jug of Dontium in Ford's hands as he ran past. "Watch over this!"
"What—!"
Fiddleford jumped into the Nightmare Realm, the end of a long extension cord tied around his waist. He stretched out the hose of his ghost vacuum and flipped a switch, and with a yelp Dipper's soul was sucked inside. Ford gasped in relief.
Trying to keep as much of his attention on the potentially-radioactive jug as possible, Ford reeled Fiddleford back in, shoved the jug in his hands, and dug into Dipper's backpack again until he found the alien adhesive grenade. He pulled the pin and chucked it through the rift. "Duck!"
He shielded Dipper's body and Fiddleford shielded the Dontium jug as the grenade exploded. Even so, the force of it blew aside everything within ten feet of the rift and sent both of them sprawling. When Ford glanced back over his shoulder, the adhesive had gummed up the opening of the rift like a popped glowing magenta bubblegum bubble; and as he watched, it sucked the opening shut. In a few seconds the air was still and quiet, and the only sign the rift had ever existed was an immense, jagged vertical line in the air around which the light refracted wrong.
Fiddleford gingerly got back to his knees, then pulled off his glasses and pushed up his goggles. One of the lenses had been crushed, and the glasses' frame was bent beyond repair.
Ford heaved a long, heavy sigh. "A bit too familiar, wasn't it?"
Fiddleford blinked at him. "Wasn't what?"
"The—reeling you in from the Nightmare Realm?" Ford said. At Fiddleford's blank look, Ford said, "The portal test?"
"Oh." Fiddleford scratched his head. "I... still don't remember it too clearly."
"Ah. Yes. Of course." Ford's stomach churned with guilt as he looked away from Fiddleford. Over thirty years late was too late to apologize, wasn't it? (Over the past year he'd wondered, again and again; and again and again he'd decided that it was.) "Thank you for saving—" He gasped, "Dipper!"
"Oh, right!" Fiddleford took off his vacuum, dropped it on the floor, and unzipped its bag. The ghosts of a Northwest in a buckskin coat and a confused-looking hippie escaped into the air. "Hey," Fiddleford barked. "You get back here!" He raised the vacuum's hose and flipped its switch. He caught the hippie, but as soon as she was sucked in she flew out the unzipped bag and off to freedom again. Fiddleford lowered the hose and shook a fist at the retreating spirits. "I'll get you ectoplasmic varmints, just you wait!"
Ford knelt on the floor and held the bag open wider. Dipper floated out, arms crossed tight and shivering. "So... so cold... and dark... and really, really dusty."
"Let's get you back where you belong."
Ford held up Dipper's body as he lay back down in it. He could see the moment color flooded back into Dipper's cheeks and his eyes focused again. Dipper groaned.
Ford said, "You're never doing that again."
"I am never doing that again," Dipper said.
"We can't do that again," Fiddleford said. "The fabric of reality in this town is too unstable to handle another paradoxical physics experiment that powerful! We'd rip open another rift to the Nightmare Realm!"
"And we just tossed away all of our remaining alien adhesive," Ford sighed. It left Gravity Falls vulnerable if any more rips formed. Sometime soon he'd have to go back to the alien crash site and see if there was any more adhesive he could scrounge up; but even if he did, they couldn't risk wasting more of it like this.
"But did we get what we needed?" Dipper asked.
Fiddleford held up the milk jug of Dontium and shook it. It had a strange shifting color, wavering between cyan and orange depending on the lighting. "Looks like we got about three-fourths of a gallon," Fiddleford said.
"It's only enough to fully power one shot," Ford said. "But... one shot is all it'll take to destroy Bill." His stomach flipped nervously as he said it. He'd been anxious every other time he'd prepared to kill Bill, but that had always been because he'd been preparing to battle for the fate of the universe with a godlike monster who could easily kill him or worse. For the first time, he was preparing to execute a defenseless prisoner, and he didn't know whether it would make the universe any safer.
For half the summer he'd hoped Bill was harmless. Now he wished he had proof that Bill wasn't, so that he could lay his conscience to rest.
Dipper looked as uncomfortable as Ford felt; but when he caught Ford's gaze, he hardened his expression and nodded. Ford nodded back.
"WOOHOO!" Fiddleford leaped his full height straight up, making Ford and Dipper start. "We done it! YAHOO!" He waved his hat around ecstatically, doing a little jig in place. "YIPPEE! HIP HIP HURRrr—hey, how come you fellers ain't celebrating?"
Ford didn't know how to explain without making Fiddleford worry he was at risk of falling under Bill's spell again. "We'll celebrate when he's dead."
####
"Who was at the door?" 8 Ball shouted. When he didn't get a response, he paused his game. "Teeth?"
Teeth waddled into the game room. His face was completely plastered shut with some kind of glowing purple glue.
Pyronica cracked up and Paci-Fire chuckled darkly. 8 Ball sighed, "What'd you get into, you idiot?"
Teeth waved his hands emphatically.
"All right, okay." 8 Ball stood and stretched. "Does anyone have the number of that lamp guy Bill used to hook up with?"
Half an hour later, having lured over Lava Lamp Guy with the false promise of ping pong pool and illicit liquids, they cornered him in a bathroom, with Zanthar sitting in the tub restraining him while Paci-Fire struggled to hold his face still.
"Please!" Lava Lamp Guy screamed. "Let me go! I'll do anything you want! My neurologist said I can't take much more of this!"
"Cease your complaints," Paci-Fire said, as 8 Ball took off Lava Lamp Guy's bowler. "You shall not dissuade us. We do this because we have no choice in the matter."
"Why not?!"
"Because none of us feel like making the trip to a dimension with a drugstore."
8 Ball stuck a soup ladle into the open top of Lava Lamp Guy's head and fished around until he got a scoop of the red goo floating around in the thinner orange liquid. Lava Lamp Guy howled in agony. Zanthar heaved a weary sigh.
8 Ball carried the ladle over to where Teeth was sitting on the toilet lid kicking his feet. "Here you go, bud."
Teeth clapped his hands, grabbed an oversized toothbrush, and held it out for 8 Ball to pour the goop on. He scrubbed his teeth until the goop dissolved the adhesive. "Whew!" He stretched his jaw a few times, then jumped to his feet. "Thanks! I was worried I was gonna miss karaoke night." He looked in the sink mirror to scrub off the remaining scraps of adhesive.
8 Ball put Lava Lamp Guy's hat back on. Lava Lamp Guy groaned, "I think I forgot my third husband."
"You've only been married twice," Hectorgon lied.
"Oh." Confused, Lava Lamp Guy said, "Alright."
Teeth muttered, "Blech, divorce memories." He grabbed a bottle of mouthwash to clear out the taste.
"So what happened?" Kryptos asked. He was hovering in the doorway beside Pyronica.
"I'unno. I think the Dimension 46ers were messing around with their portal or something? They opened up a portal here."
"What? Uh-uh," Pyronica said. "It had to be some other dimension. We just invaded them, why would they open the portal again?"
"No no, that sounds like humans to me," Kryptos said. "If one of them pushes a button and immediately dies, the guy standing next to him will go, 'I wonder if it does that every time.' I've seen them do it."
"It was definitely them, I saw that local contractor Bill recruited for the portal who went nuts. Fingers or whoever."
8 Ball groaned. "You mean the guy that invaded the Quadrangle and tried to kill everybody?"
"Yeah. That guy. He told me I wasn't welcome on Earth and chucked a glue bomb in my face. I was like, well alright, buddy, I'm not the one who opened up a portal in your house, you could have just stayed home instead of ruining my day," Teeth said. "I didn't really say that to him. I thought it."
"So now the humans are invading us." Pyronica threw her hands in the air. "Great! This is just terrific! Bill teaches them how to make their own portals, they follow us home, and now we're about to have a pest problem that knows how to use tools! How long is it until this whole place is crawling with humans?! I'm going househunting, how many rooms should I look for? 8 Ball?"
"I'm in."
"Teeth?"
Teeth sighed, but said, "Yeah. The neighborhood's going downhill. Especially if we're gonna have a pest problem."
"Big Z?"
Zanthar gave a thumbs up.
Pyronica looked at Paci-Fire. He averted his gaze. Pyronica said, "Paci?"
Sullenly, he said, "We should ask Keyhole's opinion as well."
She laughed in disbelief. Nobody cared about Keyhole's opinion, he went with whatever everyone else went with. Appealing to Keyhole was just a delaying tactic. "Fine, sure. We'll get Keyhole's opinion."
"I'm not going," Hectorgon said, crossing his arms.
Relieved, Kryptos said, "Yeah. Me neither."
"You don't have to," Pyronica snapped. "You two and Morph can wait for Bill to come back from the dead as long as you want. But the rest of us are leaving."
Kryptos tilted toward the hall, gesturing for Hectorgon to follow him away from the others. "How long do you think we can hold this place without the outerplanars?" The Quadrangle was all that remained of Bill's turf. Without Bill's energy boosting them, none of the shapes were particularly powerful. They'd always depended upon the other Henchmaniacs to guard Bill's stronghold, the heavy-hitters like Zanthar and Pyronica. Even Bill preferred to let them fight his battles when he could; Bill's energy was much vaster, but less renewable.
Hectorgon grimaced uncertainly. "We've gotta think of something fast."
####
Dipper stared at the jug in his lap, ensuring it didn't turn radioactive before they got home. Bill practically seemed to have a radar for Ford—and on top of that, could see through walls—but as far as he cared Dipper may as well have not even existed; so they'd decided that Ford would go in the main door to ensure Bill's attention was turned away while Dipper went through the gift shop and took the elevator down to Ford's study. Ford had told Dipper where to find a lead locker that would keep the Dontium contained until Ford could use it to refuel the Quantum Destabilizer; all he had to do was put it in and stare through the crack until he'd slammed the door shut.
And once they'd decided on that, the drive home had fallen deathly silent.
As the Mystery Shack appeared through the trees, Dipper asked, "We're doing the right thing, right?" His voice was quiet. "I hate him, but—we owe him our lives. And there's that prophecy..."
"Lives can't be owed," Ford said. "Yesterday he may have saved us, but tomorrow he would still destroy our world in a heartbeat. We can be grateful to be alive—but we can't let that stop us."
"So, we're doing the right thing?"
Ford was silent for much longer than Dipper would have liked. "I hope so."
####
(We're moving toward some important stuff!! Hope y'all enjoyed and I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this week's chapter!)
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