#make slot two the real killer slot there would be no coming back from that

[nanoa1foryou]

Watch them put Käärijä in the opening slot. I dare them. Do it. Cowards.

[misseviehyde]

CORROSION

Alanah was home alone and looking forward to watching her favourite TV shows without any distractions. Her boyfriend, who usually criticised her TV choices, was currently away on a work trip and so she'd fired up the pop-corn maker, snuggled into one of her favourite sweaters and stretched out on the sofa. She could watch whatever she wanted tonight and no-one was going to stop her.

Alanah definitely deserved a little bit of TLC. Work was a killer at the moment. She worked for a charity that supported homeless people and some of the things she'd had to see recently were pretty harrowing. Her boyfriend always said she should get a better job that paid more, but Alanah liked to contribute to society and help others more than selfishly earn lots for herself.

As it went, Alanah was pretty humble and selfless most of the time so the job suited her. Unlike her boyfriend Max, she didn't like to be the centre of attention. She looked reasonably attractive, dressed nicely and lived a good life - but she was hardly going to make an impact on the world.

Such weighty thoughts were hardly on her mind as she picked up the remote and prepared to turn on the TV. A little bit of harmless distraction and fantasy would suit her perfectly tonight.

She pushed the buttons.

Nothing happened. The remote was dead.

Cursing, Alanah dragged herself to her feet and went into the kitchen to the drawer where they kept all the batteries. Rummaging inside she cursed again. There didn't seem to be any in the drawer.

No... wait. There in the corner of the drawer. Two corroded, rusted batteries with a pink shell casing were lurking at the back. As she touched them, the hairs on the back of Alanah's hands rose up and she felt a strange magnetic jolt pulse through her body, making her nipples harden in pleasure. She cradled the strange batteries in her hands feeling a compulsion to use them that overode her every sense.

Where had these strange batteries even come from? Why had they bothered to keep hold of two such obvious duds? It didn't make any sense.

The batteries were clearly of no use, but the sudden urge to try them was overwhelming. It was like the batteries WANTED to be used. Pulling out the old ones from the remote, she slowly slotted the corroded, pink batteries into the remote and clicked them into place.

Pink lightning engulfed the plastic remote and Alanah gasped in amazement. Luscious pink light crawled and sparked over the cheap plastic and it seemed to blur and transform before her eyes. She watched in amazement as the remote changed shape and colour, transformed by the batteries.

In moments a shiny silver chrome remote lay before her, with an entirely new set of buttons. How... how was this possible? Was this a trick?

Reaching out, she picked up the strange new remote and felt the same erotic jolt and throb of pleasure course through her body as when she had just held the batteries. She peered at the buttons in amazement.

They were now labelled with strange titles such as 'Age Control', 'Time-Freeze' and 'Rewind'.

Walking over to the mirror, Alanah shook her head gently. "I must be having a hallucination or something. This... this can't be real."

Pushing the age control button, she aimed the remote at a banana hanging from a hook on the cupboard next to her. Instantly it began to ripen and mature... then turn to black sludge and rot away. Pushing the button down in reverse, she watched as the processs reversed and then went further - the banana turning green and beginning to shrink back to a seed.

The remote now appeared to have powers over time. This was like something out of a science fiction program!

With this remote, she seemed able to control time. Seeing her 31 year old face reflected in the mirror, she suddenly paused and then hesitantly pointed the remote towards herself. What if...?

"Ohhhh fuck," groaned Alanah as she hit the de-aging button and she felt the power of the remote blast into her. Her skin tightened, her slightly saggy breasts firmed up, her buttocks tightened. Youth and vitality flowed into her and it felt so good. As she stopped pushing the button, the effect finally ended and an eighteen year old version of herself looked back in delight.

"This is incredible," she breathed. "I'm young again!"

Turning the remote over, Alanah popped open the battery panel and pulled out the corroded batteries. There was a flash of pink light and now once again she held the normal plastic TV remote in her hands.

She deserved to be young again. This was a gift that she was never going to reverse. Why shouldn't she have some extra life and vitality and be young and free again?

The remote was back to normal, but she wasn't. She was still young and full of vitality. The de-aging effect was obviously permanent until she used the remote again.

For a moment, she pondered putting the batteries back in and changing back immediately.

As she did so, she barely noticed that crackle of pink energy that briefly flared over her own body as she thought of reversing the effect and immediately decided not to.

The uncharacteristic feeling of selfishness felt good. She groaned and her nipples got even harder than they had earlier. She felt... good. Being selfish felt great!

"Hmmmm, these batteries are incredible. They changed the remote into an upgraded version of itself. I wonder what happens if I put them into other objects?"

Enjoying the feeling of her tight young body, Alanah whistled happily as she picked up one of Max's Xbox controllers. Sliding the batteries inside - she gasped as the same pink lightning engulfed that too and in moments the controller had changed.

It still had the same basic shape, but it was no longer for controlling video games. As she switched it on, Alanah saw the TV flicker into life. She was now looking at a birds eye view of her neighbourhood. Fascinated, she pushed the control sticks and flew over to Max's hotel where he was staying for his work conference.

Inside his room, Max was lying on the bed watching TV. Alanah giggled as she saw that she could select him like he was a character in a game. Menu's and options appeared and she saw that she could now adjust and change Max's mental attributes as well as pilot him remotely.

Pushing start, she grinned as she now realised she was in control of her arrogant boyfriend's mind.

A whisper in the back of her head seemed to tell her that she should get her revenge on her boyfriend for the way he always treated her. She hesitated. That seemed wrong.

On the bed Max groaned as the changes took place and his body posture changed. He now looked anxious and worried, no longer the confident business man but a scared little loser. Alanah liked seeing him squirm - this was fun... and horny.

Pink lightning crackled un-noticed over Alanah's body and she relaxed. No... it would be fun to manipulate and control her dumb boyfriend for a change.

An uncharacteristically bitchy grin spread over her lips as she began to decrease Max's confidence and intelligence. She could always put them back later, but let's how he liked being a dumb, subservient little simp.

Wait...

Alanah's panties were wet as she pushed the control up to make Max totally devoted and enslaved to her will. His obsession to please her and serve her would now be unstoppable.

When Max came back from his trip, he would be her subservient little toy. Her grin grew wider. What else could she make him do? Or who else could she transform?

Oh fuck, why did this feel so good?

What the fuck was she doing?

"Noooo what did I just do?" she sobbed, disgusted at herself. "Those batteries... they're... they're doing something to me. Something bad. I... I felt so fucking turned on when I began to dominate Max's mind. This isn't me, I'm not a bad person."

Her grin fading, Alanah felt a rising panic. She loved Max, he was her boyfriend and she'd just violated his mind and fucked up his personality. Looking down she saw a flash of pink electricity run across her hands and into her body and she suddenly realised she was being affected.

With a sudden sobbing gasp she turned over the controller and ripped out the batteries. Pink lightining flashed as she threw them across the room and they hit the wall.

Alanah took a deep breath to steady herself. "I have to destroy those batteries - but... but I need to reverse these changes first. Ohhh shit, why am I so horny?"

Looking down Alanah could see her pussy was soaking. She had been so turned on manipulating Max and her new eighteen year old body felt so good, she had never felt this turned on. Even now - disgusted by her actions - she also couldn't stop thinking how hot it had felt to control Max and have such Godlike power. Part of her wanted more.

Her nipples were errect and her body ached with desire. She had never felt so fucking turned on. Pink lightning crackled over her skin. She needed... mmmmmh... she needed release. No... she needed to deal with these evil batteries.

Crawling over to the batteries she carefully picked them up in her sweater, trying not to touch them. She had meant to go over to the Xbox controller with them, but instead she found her feet carrying herself up to her bedroom.

Alanah could barely think straight. The urgent heat in her loins needed to be dealt with. She could turn Max and herself back later. First - she needed to let off some steam. Urgently.

Ripping down her panties, she urgently slid her fingers into her wetness and began to hump herself like a nympho. It felt good... but not good enough. For some reason she needed more.

Opening her drawer, she pulled out her bullet vibrator and pushed the button. This would do it.

Nothing happened.

"Nooooo I need... I need it," groaned Alanah as she shook with lust. She had never needed anything so badly. Her fingers pumped in and out of her pussy, but the release she needed was lacking.

Her horny mind craved the vibrator. She needed to feel it pulsing against her clit. She NEEDED it.

Wrenching open the battery case she tossed the duds aside. Strange, she'd only changed them recently. She needed power and rapidly her eyes fell on the pink corroded batteries nestled in her sweater.

Yesssssss.

She knew this was a terrible idea, but it seemed so hot. The batteries had already made her do bad things, putting them in her vibrator was surely asking for trouble. Mmmmh but it was also such a deliciously naughty idea. She wanted to be good, but now she also wanted to be bad. The evil side of her was becoming stronger and she wanted to know how it felt to get even worse. She giggled as she wondered what the batteries would do to her tiny vibrator.

Picking them up, Alanah moaned as she pushed them in and let the pink lightning crackle over both her and the vibrator. Giving into the batteries, to the corrosion... it felt GOOD.

"Yessssssss," she hissed as her tiny vibrator began to swell and grow. In moments it had become a sleek chrome wand, with a new row of buttons on.

Slut mode. Bitch mode. Goddess mode.

Intrigued and desperate for release, Alanah pushed slut mode and the vibrator buzzed into life. Large and powerful, it hummed with obscene power as she brought it down between her legs and screamed in ecstasy.

"Yessssss!" she hissed as pink lightning crackled around her body and she humped the vibrator with a wild grin on her face. She could feel the corrosive power of the batteries throbbing into her body, changing her and corrupting her.

"YESSSS I LOVE IT!"

She screamed, quivering and shaking as pleasure stronger than anything she'd ever felt before pulsed through her.

Alanah's small breasts began to swell and grow and she moaned as she pushed the vibrator hard against her pussy. "Yessss make them BIGGER," she cried. She had always been jealous of girls with big breasts, now she would be the one to make others jealous.

Lightning crackled over her body, each surge bringing her closer to orgasm. Each throb and buzz of pink power was corrupting her, improving her, making her better.

"Yessss give it to meeeeeee!"

Her face became sluttier and prettier, her once innocent features now those of a porn star as her hair grew even blonder and her skin became softer. Her ass was now bigger and rounder, her waist slimmer but her hips wider. She had the body of a fuckdoll now and she liked it.

Being an 18 year old blonde slut felt good.

Alanah grabbed one of her now impressively large breasts and squeezed it in pleasure as she rode her vibrator. She felt so good, but she needed more.

She didn't want to be a slut. She wanted to be a bitch.

The vibrator had given her the perfect body but her mind didn't quite match. She was still a goody goody in part. She needed to go deeper.

Her thumb slid up the vibrator to the next setting.

"Noooo, I can't. If I push it... I'll become evil. This fucking thing will destroy my mind and turn me into a total bitch. Ohhh shit why does that sound so hot?"

If she could just cum, she could fight this terrible temptation, but she couldn't. The only way she could cum was if she became a bitch.

She thought about Max... how much she loved him, even if he often was an asshole. She thought about her job, about the homeless people who relied on her. She tried to fight it.

Mmmmmh but why fight it?

A slutty smiled spread over Alanah's face. Wouldn't it feel good to become a selfish, wicked bitch who never had to care about anyone but herself? It's not like she would ever regret this decision once she transformed.

This was her chance to have everything.

"Yesssss, make me into a fucking bitch," she groaned pushing the button for Bitch Mode.

The vibrator intensfied and throbbed even harder against her pussy and Alanah's eyes rolled up into her head as the orgasmic pleasure took her to a new plateau.

The pink lightning intensified around her body and she moaned and gurgled as it crackled into her brain.

She was being rewired... corroded and corrupted. All her decency and kindness was being rewired to cruel-ambiton, selfishness and pleasure.

"YESSSSSSSSS. Ughhhh make me mean, make me fucking evil! Turn me into a bitch!"

Alanah shook and moans came out of her mouth as her head rolled in pleasure. It felt so good to have her entire personality rewired.

She no longer felt any guilt about controlling Max and making him a simp. She loved dominating others and manipulating men. Lying, cheating, seducing, corrupting... these were the things that brought her pleasure. Along with expensive clothes, fine wines and hard nasty sex of course.

Her lips twisted into a cruel smile... a permanent resting bitch face. Cold blue eyes flickered with pleasure as the new bitch luxuriated in her superior personality and looked back at her old life with contempt.

Alanah... such a weak pathetic girl. Her lips curved into a malicious grin as she thought of all those pathetic homeless people who would no longer have any help now that stupid goody goody Alanah was no more. She was a new bitch now - she was Lana.

Lana stretched her body, pushing the vibrator harder against her pussy and sighing in contentment. She was all that mattered. Her tight perfect pussy couldn't take much more. Only one thing remained to do.

Lana pushed the button for Goddess Mode.

"Ohhhh fuck yesss, give it to me," she hissed. "Make me fucking cum and destroy every last ounce of goodness in this body. Finish my transformation into Goddess Lana.

The vibrator throbbed with unholy power and Lana arched her perfect body into the air. She screamed in lust, her angelic, yet evil features a mask of ecstasy as her pussy began to cum.

She squirted hard, juices blasting out as she screamed like a banshee. "OHHHH MY FUCKING GAWDDDD. YESSSSSSS!"

The batteries throbbed with power as they pumped energy into Lana... bolstering her narcissim, increasing her libido and her desire to dominate. She was now the ultimate bitch and the most powerful Goddess.

With a bang the vibrator overloaded and the evil batteries melted in a flare of pink energy. Lana screamed as the last of the unholy energy surged into her body and her corruption was completed.

She orgasmed one last time, another spray erupting from her pussy as she collapsed onto the bed and panted and moaned in satisfaction.

"Mmmmmhhhhhh oh yessssss," she groaned as she removed the ruined vibrator from between her legs and giggled at the drenched bed underneath her.

Standing up, she walked to her mirror and admired her new body. "Mmmmh I truly AM a Goddess now."

But what about her batteries? Her wonderful batteries were ruined.

Walking to the bed, Lana picked up one of the drained batteries that had orginally been in the vibrator. As she held it between her fingers, pink sparks arched between them and she watched with interest as the battery corroded and turned a bright vibrant pink.

"Looks like I have the power now," purred Lana as she charged the other battery and laughed evily.

"I can now corrupt as many devices as I like. Mind control, time control... who knows what else I will be able to do when I try other devices? I truly AM a fucking Goddeas now. This world will be my plaything and I'll do whatever the fuck I want."

Her soul, body and mind corroded - the new Uber-Bitch walked off with a clop of high heels to go find the Xbox controller.

She had even more changes to make to Max... and then the rest of the town would follow.

The whole world was her toy now. It was easy, when you had the power...

THE END

[orphicrose]

The Co-Host (Alastor x FemReader) VIIII

< >

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

Warnings ! ! Mentions of SA! Death and Bl00D

Note : I've had a bad fever for almost a week now, but i am better and I promise I haven't ignored you're requests! Working on them as soon as this is posted.

@cannibalcoyote @kahlan170 @sugxryratz @multifandom-superlover @t0xic1vi @saccharine-nectarine

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Y/n didn't know what to do with herself, she was left with more questions than answers. From what she could put together, her and Alastor were colleagues and perhaps lovers in life. But her death sent him into a spiral. Perhaps a murderer. But neither of them know why she is down here. Y/n always assumed it was to do with making a deal with the devil. But she wasn't sure anymore. Everything was a mess. Yet, something was pulling her closer to Alastor. She needed him, his company. Like their atoms were magnetic towards each other. 

"I need to remember..." she thought to herself, staring at the ceiling of her bedroom. "But how?"

Knowing her, she would have left some sort of off switch. A backup plan for if things went wrong. Something that would jumpstart her memory. Like the leaflet, but that was too weak. What else? "Jumper!" She shouted. In the memory, she had taken a few of Als jumpers. Perhaps they were lying around somewhere. Digging through her large wardrobe, she found nothing. Clothes scattering her bed and floor. She grunted in frustration, kicking her wardrobe then immediately regretting it. Holding her foot and hopping on one leg till she eventually fell over. 

Y/n felt hopeless on the floor, eyes following a shadow around the room as street lights flickered through her curtains. A crack in her painting on the wall caught her attention. It was off. Her hopes raised as she jumped towards it, lifting it to find a hole in the wall. "Y/n, you're a genius" She mumbled, rummaging around the hole to find a wooden box. 

Nothing particularly useful inside, though. Documents that Satan had given to her when they first started working together that she never wanted to see again. As she rummaged through, a photo fell from one of the pages. A polaroid. Her heart skipped a beat. Remembering that a photo was taken in the memory, as well. "This is it... i guess"

Her eyes sealed shut as she bent over to pick the photo from the floor. Turning it to see the two of them, as humans, in a loving embrace. Dressed in stunning outfits, as if they were at some sort of party. 

The party was the first memory to come back, then little memories surrounding their job, then the first time they met. Before she knew it, everything slotted into place. The good and the bad. The reasons she was down here, the reasons she blasted her memory from existence. And, him. Her feelings hit her like a brick, emotions too much to handle. 

Her Alastor was down here, the sweet man that built her into the person she is today. Sure he had some issues, but now they had an eternity to sort them out. But how could he ever forgive her, after what she did to him. 

"Breaking news, Co-host of Alastor's broadcast found dead near Louisiana swamps" Was the headline of the newspaper that day. After this heartbreaking news was released, some speculated Alastor was the murderer, considering he was the last one to see his Co-host alive. But after autopsies and thorough investigation, his name was cleared. The real killer getting away with their sins. The true story buried forever. 

Y/n sat in her small room in her studio apartment that she could barely afford, reading the headline. Knowing she had gotten away with it. Regret and guilt still circulating her mind, even after the news was blaming her victims partner. But she did what she had to do. 

A week prior, y/n had an encounter with the radio presenter. Not Alastor, his partner. A bitter man he was, selfish and righteous. He owned many speakeasies along the coast, everything being a money grab. Even the radio show, an excuse for publicity. Even with all those facts considered, y/n still didn't mean to kill him. She had bumped into him on the way home late that night, tripping him over. 

"Oh my, sir. I am so so sor-"

"Shut up you little rat" He climbed to his feet, dusting off the little dirt on his blazer. "I'll have my way with you for that"

Y/n sensed the danger and began running the opposite direction, fearing for her life. The man closely behind her. She didn't even make it ten steps away before hands clamped around her neck. Her mind had blanked out completely from that point. Coming to when his body writhed beneath her grip, crimson trickling from his neck like a bloody waterfall. He got what was coming to him, but that didn't make the guilt ease. His body letting out his last breath as the now lifeless corpse lay idle, illuminated by the dim street lights in the night. The shard of glass in her hand was carried with her, unknowingly, her whole journey home. Hiding it under some paper in her bin when she realized. What else was she to do? 

She murdered Alastor's friend. Not out of cold blood. But would he see it like that?

"I don't care what you did" Played in her head from a few hours prior. He knew what she did, surely. He seemed as if he did for him to reassure her with those words. It's not like she particularly had anything to lose in this moment, anyway. Without a second thought, her body ached for him. For his acknowledgement, for his touch. She found herself running out her house, letting her mind go blank. For the first time in her life in hell, she voluntarily used her gifts. Turning into mist under pavement and reappearing at the doorstep of the radio demons radio tower. 

"What are you doing here?" His eyes scanned the woman in front of him in the doorway of his broadcasting room. Standing from his seat at the sound board. She said nothing, closing in on him and taking no time to let their lips meet. Hands finding their way to his hair with soft scratches. 

His eyes widened, not daring to move. Incase she stopped. He reciprocated after a second, his microphone dropping to the floor to free up his own hand. Landing on her waist and pulling her closer to his body.

It felt as if an eternity passed, old feeling mixed with current frustrations and sadness. When they pulled back to finally see each others eyes, Alastor couldn't hold back the tears he had been suppressing for years now. Never really coming to terms with her death. But she was here, all of here was here. Staring back at him with the loving eyes she had oh so many years ago. 

"Do you..-"

"Remember?" She half laughed through the tears she shared with him. Feeling his thumb brush them away from her face. A genuine smile creeping onto his.

"How?" His fingers found themself tracing patterns along the softness of her cheeks. Something she felt familiar with. Something he used to do when she was asleep next to him, and he would watch the calmness of her face. Entranced. Feeling a need to protect her in such a vulnerable state. 

She shrugged, not wanting to talk anymore about it. She just wanted to take him in, breath in his air and be with him. Finally. Not needing an answer, he pulled her in by the waist to plant another loving kiss on her lips. Being careful as to not dig his fingers into her flesh. They stood like that, for minutes. Peppering each other with affectionate touches and kisses. Catching up on how many they had lost. 

"I suppose we have a lot to talk about" Alastor pulled away, pulling her backwards as he perched himself onto a chair. Holding her hands in his as he stared up to her. 

"We have an eternity to discuss it, my darling" she moved to sit on his lap, not being close enough to his heart beat. 

"You do know who i am, yes?"

"Alastor, I knew who you were before i erased my memory" 

He stared at her, bewildered, eyes moving between hers. "Is that why you..?"

"No. Well, it was a shock. But I'm no saint either. I couldn't bare the knowledge that I am the reason I'm down here, and that I would be the reason you'd fall too. There's so many excuses I could give you, Alastor. But the main truth is that I wasn't strong enough to hold that information with me forever."

He stayed quite, sensing more to the story. But it wasn't important anymore. She accepted him for both sides of his life, and he accepted her. What more could he need. Validation had been given and his ears perked up. He put a hand to her face to make her look at him. Smiling so genuinely now. 

"It's ok, darling." he nodded. ""I meant what i said before. I don't care why you're down here. I just care that we get a fresh start together."

A beautiful feeling surrounded the two of them, falling into the bliss of each others company as everything was let out into the light. No more secrets, no more being alone. But there was still the issue of their souls not being in their bodied, surely that won't affect their affection to one another, right?

Bright yellow hues interrupted their confessions, as a strong gravity began to pull them away from each other. 

"Al? What's happening?" Y/n clung to his neck as something whirred her from his grasp. A magnet pulling her back into some sort of portal that had flung open behind her. 

"I'm. I don't know, Don't let go" His nails dipped into the flesh on her arm, holding onto her as if she was being taken away from him again. But the force was to great. Her body flung into the vortex with a screech as she cried for her love to save her never ending lose ends. He was left in silence once again, the portal closing before he could reach it. 

Rage filled his body, replacing his lust. Surging through his veins like some sort of adrenaline booster. "Satan...."

In an abandoned office block, y/n had been spat out the portal like a piece of chewed up gum. Landing not to gracefully on the floor, looking up to see her boss's anger. "What did we say about distractions?"

[keldjinfae]

I was tagged by the lovely @greyhavenisback, and I cannot for the life of me remember if I've already responded to this post or not, so...

In no particular order, my Top 10 Movies:

Inception - it has Marion Cotillard, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Tom Hardy, and Ken Watanabe. That would be enough if it didn't also have one of the most goosebump-inducing soundtracks of all... Time. It also set sail one of my all-time favorite ships with the creation of Arthur and Eames.

The Dark Knight - while this list won't be entirely comprised of Nolan movies, I can't not put this one on this list, considering how many times I saw it in theaters. Both Heath Ledger and Aaron Eckhart were mesmerizing as the Joker and Two-Face, and again, that soundtrack is fire (I'm sorry).

Saw (the entire series) - I went to see all of these so many damn times in theaters that it's a good thing I got to see them for free. Every weekend, provided something new hadn't been released, my friend and I went to see whichever Saw movie was still showing. And again, isn't it iconic?

Tombstone - yes, obviously there's Val Kilmer as Doc Holliday, but there's also Kurt Russell, Sam Elliott, Bill Paxton, Powers Boothe, Michael Biehn, Stephen Lang, Billy Zane, Thomas Hayden Church, and nobody's leaving it up to one man to carry the movie. It's also one that I used to watch with my father at least once a year, usually around the anniversary of his separation from my mother, and we'd pass a bottle of bourbon back and forth and rant about how insane it is that Kilmer wasn't even nominated for an Oscar.

John Wick (the entire series) - it's a thing of beauty to me that what should just be a bunch of "shoot 'em up" movies have such an insane amount of worldbuilding to them (and if anyone bothering to read this post knows anything about my writing, it's how much I build a world before I start writing the story in the first place). The action is gorgeous, the actors themselves are gorgeous, the development and usage of things as simple as slang is gorgeous, the soundtrack is gorgeous. You can also never go wrong with Ian McShane.

The Warriors - this was legit one of our family movie night features while my sister and I were growing up. Yes, there were animated movies and whatnot, but our parents were very lax about rating restrictions. We still regularly quote "CAN YOU DIG IT?!" and "Warriooooooooors! Come out to plaaaaaaaay!" Also, James Remar as Ajax was 🔥.

Interview with the Vampire - Tom Cruise may be an... interesting individual in real life, but the effort he put into portraying Lestat was sheer perfection. I used to watch this one all the time with my dad and my sister, and again, killer soundtrack.

It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World - a movie that decided to bring together every single comedian of the time that they possibly could, as well as come up with relevant things for them to do. Sounds impossible "on paper," and yet this movie exists. I've been watching it since I was a child and I still laugh through the whole thing. Buddy Hackett is also basically my father in this movie, which makes Mickey Rooney both myself and my sister. "NO ONE'S FLYING THE PLANE!"

21 Jump Street and 22 Jump Street - I laughed so hard watching the first one that my vision literally whited out at one point. Everyone is fantastic in both movies, but 21JS is also the first time I got to see Channing Tatum's understated sense of humor.

Kill Bill (both volumes) - I could have just filled up most of these slots with Tarantino movies, honestly, because I do love just about all of them (and my dad had a particular fondness for Django Unchained), but my sister and I rewatch I and II at least once a year. They make up one masterpiece, and I may be in the minority but I hope III is never actually a serious prospect.

No pressure whatsoever tags: @dear-massacre @nerdherderette @vmures @renmackree @ephemeronidwrites

[unitedbydevils]

Match Review: Manchester City U18s 1-2 Manchester United U18s

MANCHESTER IS RED (go with it)

When United are mint, everything is mint, and fuck me are United's Under-18s mint - and also double winners. Up the fucking reds!

United started strongly at Leigh Sports Village, with a driving run and fizzing shot from Ethan Williams in the 3rd minute testing City keeper Brits. Three minutes later and Ruben Curley was doing the exact same again, but to no avail. Then, one minute later, magic happened.

A deep ball from just over the halfway line by Nolan lofted into Ethan Wheatley's path perfectly, but the touch and control to bring it down into a shooting action was technique Dimitar Berbatov would have applauded. Unreal composure and confidence, and topped off with a great finish at the near post past the stunned Brits.

City came back at United, and the game opened up into more of a back-and-forth affair, trading shots on goal, but United's organisation kept a very tight defensive structure and limited the Citizens from any real threat on Elyh Harrison's goal - not that the wunderkind needs too much help. Kid's a future star keeper.

The middle of the half approached and Harrison punts a goal kick up field towards RW James Scanlon. The Gibraltan international nods the ball wide to attacking full back James Nolan, who drives a curled pass forward along the ground into the path of Ethan Wheatley. A defender slides, he knocks it, but Wheatley has the pace. He nips in, rounds the keeper, slots home. 2-0 United and LSV is in bits. SCENES.

City kept up the battle though, and a great killer through ball nearly opened United up in the 34th minute but for a huge body interception and block by Harrison in net. City captain Heskey was potentially fouled in the United box by Jack Kingdon - no foul given though - but otherwise come half time there could be no complaints at United's lead.

The second half was more City, with United making substitutes for rotation's sake but also due to the dearth of depth in the first team squad meaning certain promising youngsters have been requested by Erik Ten Hag for Wednesday's Premier League game against Sheffield United.

Both sides had reasonable chances on goal but nothing too serious until Stephen Mfuni nodded home from a corner to give City five minutes of hope... which was almost realised but for a fantastic full-stretch save by Harrison off Alfa-Ruprecht's header.

City's play and persistence did deserve a goal, and with the arguable penalty in the first half, on another day it could have been a different affair. It is nice to see the best two teams make the final though, and make it a memorable contest.

It's the result that matters though, and the silverware is ours. The league and now the cup. What a bunch of lads.

Two games remain this season - both at home. Sunderland visit us this Saturday, and then there's one last game versus Everton on May 4th. Lets end strong. GGMU.

[gayhoediaz]

☕️ + the impact of streaming services on how we consume media (binging over longform storytelling wtc)

this is late i’m so sorry i meant to get to these earlier, but hey - let’s do this again. send me more ☕️!

this is such an interesting question, and i think that it absolutely depends. i do think that as a society, we are becoming more and more impatient, and we want things quickly, and the more technology develops, the greedier we become. (this is a little bit of a sidenote, but tiktok, for example scares me so much, even outside of the content. just the format. it’s a dopamine slot machine. the few times i have downloaded that app, i lose hours and hours on it and it’s genuinely terrifying. i’m not even having a good time, i just can’t stop scrolling.)

if you had asked me a couple of years ago, i think i would have had a completely different answer - but as of right now, i can’t think of any real benefits of the way in which streaming services serve us their television shows all at once. is there a dopamine rush when you have a whole new season of your favorite show (although i don’t know if i have ever loved a show that was released in that manner tbh) to watch all at once? absolutely!

but in the long run - i do absolutely agree that when we go back to long form television, it makes us impatient and unable to wait for stories to develop, and we see that in a lot of the critique that shows like 9-1-1 get when an episode isn’t received well. i don’t think you can judge an episode in and of itself as harshly as people tend to. you can judge it a little bit, of course - but you can’t say that a season or a storyline is trash when you’re nowhere near the end. it’s ungrateful and impatient, and i think that does stem from this dopamine rush that we’re used to these days.

not only are we used to being able to watch several episodes all at once - but if we’re even more impatient, we can always go to google or twitter or tumblr and look for spoilers. does this character die? does this relationship work out? who is the killer? when an entire season is released at once, we don’t have to wait. we have it all at our fingertips, and it makes us greedy.

outside of that, i think that it also makes our lives a little bit brighter in the longrun to have something to look forwards to every week. (for a period of time.) this is hardly an original thought, but what a treat to be excited for mondays or tuesdays or thursdays! rather than locking yourself in your room one weekend out of the year and swallowing it all down in one go. there’s no wondering, no theorizing, etc.

the reality is also that not everyone is going to have the time to watch it all at once, or maybe they won’t have time until a month after it comes out. (although to be fair - and i don’t know if this is a common experience - but i actually tend to procrastinate watching shows that are dropped in this way, even if i like them. it just feels like it’s so much at once.) and i think it’s incredibly unfair to the audience, to the creators, to the actors, etc, to judge a show’s performance based off of how many people watch it in the first week or two. this is also why we see so many great shows cancelled so quickly. i mean - most long-running shows did not have a great first season. but they were given a second anyway, and over time, the shows grow into what they were always meant to be. these originals don’t get that chance.

also in general, it’s a very special experience to watch long form television as it’s airing. especially if you engage in fandom. it’s an experience that you just don’t get if you were to binge the same show after it’s ended - and that’s what these instant drops really are. you just binge it immediately and you don’t savor it, you don’t theorize, you don’t think or wonder or question - and in my experience that’s the best part of watching television.

send me a ☕️ + a topic for an opinion

[litgwritersroom]

Her Story (Don't Blame Me)

Blake - 4800+ words - @tammyisobsessedwith

Blake hits the Villa and she's not holding back.

“Blake!” One of the production assistants called out to her from the sidelines. “Take a step forward, will you, love?”

“Sure thing, hun.” She replied with a flash of her perfect smile and did as requested.

Adjusting the straps of her turquoise two-piece bikini, Blake flipped her perfectly slick hair over her shoulder and waited in line next to the other five girls as they received their instructions for the required slow-mo shot of their walk up to the front door of the Spanish villa. She’d just met them five minutes ago, the ones who were supposed to be her support system and her competition all at once, each of them arriving in a separate car from their respective locations in isolation and as they all got their finishing touches in place before their big entrance she took this opportunity to surreptitiously scan them with sharp eyes.

If she were completely honest, Blake was a little disappointed that production had only slotted her as one of the Casa Amor girls. All things considered, she thought she was totally OG material. At the very least, a killer bombshell. After all, she had the looks, she had the brains and she had the banter. What more could they want? But as she looked at the girls on either side of her a smirk pulled slightly at the corner of her lips as she could immediately see what had been their line of thought. Well, Casa Amor was supposed to be the ultimate relationship test. And these girls would certainly put those boys through the test and check if they’d actually been truthful when almost every single one of them had said they didn’t really have a type or if they were actually full of shit.

As she walked up towards the front door with the girls and the production crew around them captured the perfect frames of their sauntering entrance, she found herself wanting to shake the hand of whoever was in charge of casting. She barely knew these girls, hadn’t even had so much as a conversation with them outside of swift introductions and excited hellos, but Blake could tell right away that there was one Casa Amor counterpart to every OG girl, if not in looks then at least in personality. And it looked like she was the one in direct competition with the most popular girl in the Villa this year so far.

“Y’know, you remind me of her.” Her assigned chaperone had commented one night, pointing at the screen when they’d been watching the newest episode of the reality telly show together at her bungalow a couple of nights before.

At first, Blake had openly scoffed at that notion and frankly she’d been a little offended, as she thought she had a little more flair than that girl Natalia. Sure, she was gorgeous ─ as were all the other girls in this season. But Natalia was always trying so fucking hard to just please everyone; it was kind of pathetic, really. Blake could never understand why she just went with everyone stringing her along into all the fucking drama happening around the Villa, even for things that had nothing to do with her. If she were in that girl’s shoes, she would definitely not be babysitting or playing therapist to that whole group just for the sake of harmony, as Blake did enough charity work at her actual job for people who had real life problems. This bunch here though, they were all functional grownups more than capable of taking care of themselves, for fuck’s sake ─ supposedly, anyway. She had her doubts, seeing as some of them couldn’t even make their own damn sandwiches. But they could certainly learn how to clean up their own shit.

(God, she truly hoped these Casa Amor girls coming into the Villa with her now had more common sense. She would so not be up for any of that bullshit.)

But as she really thought about those OG girls, there were definitely some similarities between her and Natalia. For starters, they both worked for charities, as Blake was a human rights campaigner whereas her OG counterpart worked for a rainforest conservation group. They both brought a lot of energy into the room as soon as they stepped through the doors and they seemed to have a very similar taste in men from what she’d seen so far. It was kind of funny and in another lifetime maybe they would’ve been best friends or something. But as they said, this was Love Island, not Friend Island. And this was a competition, after all.

Bring it on, she thought to herself with a smile as she stepped through the front door and led the group in.

The girls walked past the long communal bedroom and out the door towards the kitchen where they were told they would find the boys. Blake was the first one out, a dazzling smile on her lips and her hand wrapped around one of the bottles of champagne that production had given them to kick start their late morning at the Villa and she thought the boys would be buzzed to see six hot new girls waltzing in, all glossed up and ready to get on with having the summer of their lives. And instead they walked into what apparently was a very heated argument.

“Well, if you really wanted to pick her, I think you should’ve at least told me first ─”

“It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t planning on picking her ─”

“Come on, bruv! You must’ve at least thought about it, we know there was that kiss ─”

“We didn’t actually kiss ─”

As she rounded the corner into the kitchen, Blake could see Noah and Ibrahim standing near the table on the other side of the kitchen counter, arms crossed and angry frowns on their faces. Bobby and Gary were standing between the two of them, making a somewhat ridiculous sight as two of the tallest guys were seemingly being held back by two of the shortest ones. It was even more unexpected and bizarre because she’d never pictured Ibrahim and Noah, of all the boys, to get aggressively into each other’s faces like that.

“Hello, boys!” Emily, one of the other girls, called out, holding one of Blake’s hands and waving her own free hand to grab their attention. “I hope you’re all ready to have some fun!”

Blake wasn’t surprised at seeing her take charge of the situation and try to defuse the tension. While physically she looked nothing like any of the OG girls with her lightly tanned complexion, her dark hair styled in a dishevelled long bob and her grey eyes, Emily’s energy screamed Priya. That and the Casa Amor girl also had a body to rival this season’s original bombshell.

The boys did a comical double take at the unexpected sight of the new girls walking into their midst. Gary’s jaw dropped a little and the argument seemed instantly forgotten as they suddenly had new company to entertain, but none of them were faster than Jakub, who broke away from the lads and approached the girls with a smile.

“Oh I’ll say,” he said, giving the girls an obvious once-over. “Aren’t you all a sight for sore eyes? I thought I was gonna be stuck here with nothing but watching these knuckleheads arguing all day long.”

Blake heard some gasps and a few grumbled words she couldn’t quite distinguish from the group of boys, but then Emily was laughing and air kissing Jakub as he reached them. “Not a chance with us in the house. We’re about to turn those frowns into smiles, I hope! Oops, no pun intended.”

That seemed to break the tension a little and there were a few scattered chuckles from the group as they all exchanged hellos, air kisses and names. The two groups started mingling and popped open the bottles of bubbly, handing out glasses amongst several “where are you from?” and “what do you do?” as they started getting to know each other.

Blake exchanged pleasantries with them all while privately assessing their situation. From what she could tell, there was some tension in the group as last evening’s recoupling hadn’t gone exactly as expected. In fact, she heard the word ‘disaster’ at some point, prompting a few raised eyebrows.

“Okay, so who’s gonna tell us what’s the sitch?” Megan asked with a smile and waving hand around the group. With her fake-tanned skin, slightly wavy blonde hair and sparkling green eyes, Blake was sure Megan had been cast exactly because she was physically so similar to Chelsea. Personality wise, she also seemed quite cheerful, direct to the point and high energy ─ maybe not quite as much as her counterpart though.

“Ha! Direct, I like that,” Gary said with a grin and there were some chuckles around.

“Well, we need to get the lay of the land,” Shannon added with a playfully raised eyebrow as she scanned the group of boys and her dark blue eyes seemed to linger over Ibrahim for just a tad longer.

Ah so that’s your angle, Blake thought to herself with a smile as she stored that information away. Her eyes met Shannon’s for a moment and it was like a whole silent conversation happened between the two girls in the space of a few seconds. Even though they’d practically just met, Blake could tell they would get along and that they had the same mindset walking into the Villa. As it was to be expected, really, since Blake was sure Shannon would be just as analytical, clear-headed and objective as her counterpart, Marisol.

“Ah well, that’s a tricky one.” Bobby answered with a low chuckle as he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “It’s safe to say most of us are in pretty new couples, some even only as friends. Except Lucas and Nat, I reckon.”

Blake swept her eyes over to the physiotherapist. God, how was it possible that he was actually even fitter in person? And he was the living embodiment of her type on paper, too. Well, even if he’d been going strong with Natalia ever since he’d dropped into the Villa, Blake was about to do her hardest to see if she could turn his head.

“So does that mean that you’re all pretty open to getting to know us?” Jessica asked the group, one hand carelessly tossing her flaming red hair to the side, exposing the side shave on her head, the piercings on her ear and the tattoos on her neck and shoulder. It didn’t take a genius to realise this tattoo artist had been chosen as she was a similar type to the Villa’s makeup artist.

“Or is there anyone who is completely shut off?” Blake added with a smile, her hazel eyes going from boy to boy until she was looking directly at Lucas, holding his gaze as if she’d asked the question to him and only him.

A slow smile formed at the corner of his lips. “Oh I wouldn’t say that. There’s no harm in getting to know new people, is there, boys?”

There were some general murmurs of agreement from the boys, but before they could carry on with the very interesting conversation, the characteristic sound of a text ding interrupted them. “Ooh, I’m so excited I get to say this: I’ve got a text!” Siobhan said with a bright grin and a wave of her hand to catch the group’s attention.

Blake heard Noah comment to one of the other boys how she looked just like Hope and he was spot on, with the notable difference that Siobhan had straight black hair instead of braids and was actually a little on the shorter side. But the resemblance was actually so uncanny that it had been Blake’s first clue that the Casa Amor girls had been cast with a specific objective in mind.

“What’s it say, love?” Jakub asked as he threw her a wink.

She aimed her grin back at him before she looked down at her phone. “Islanders, you’re all about to get to know each other better with a round of speed dating. Hashtag break the ice, hashtag give your best chat!”

They were all directed to head indoors, the girls enjoying the view from the rooftop terrace while the boys settled down on the lounge, as production set up the area for the speedy dates on the garden along the infinity pool. It wasn’t long before the girls were directed back outside and found each boy occupying one of the small white tables adorned with a simple flower vase and champagne flutes.

Production had assigned the girls with which boy they should start off the round of dates to avoid any confusion and it was very lucky that Blake would actually have the first date with Lucas. She sauntered down the steps towards him at the table closest to the end of the lawn near the gym, approaching him with a smile.

He immediately got to his feet and pulled out the chair for her, handing her the champagne flute as they sat down. “So, Blake. How are you?” He asked, the smile adorning his handsome face making him look even better up close.

“Way better now that I’m here with you.” She replied immediately, then let out a small laugh as she shook her head in an almost embarrassed manner. “Sorry, that sounded slick in my head but now that I said it out loud, I realise how cheesy it sounds.”

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about it.” He said easily, leaning forward a little as if they were about to share a secret. “I did kind of set you up for that one.”

“Hmm so I guess that was a trap and I fell right in, huh?” She replied with a raised eyebrow, a smile pulling at her lips. “Would you have been disappointed if I didn’t go there? Was it some sort of test?”

“No tests, promise.” He said with a small laugh, making a dismissive gesture with one of his hands. “And not exactly disappointed, but it’s always good to know you’re happy to be here, even if we’ve all just been thrown into this whole thing.”

“Of course,” she replied, her words dripping from her lips like honey. “I’ve been looking forward to talking to you one on one.”

“Really?” Lucas intoned with a small smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, absolutely.” Blake replied with an emphatic nod, her eyes locked on his. “I have a feeling we’d really vibe, even if just as friends.” She added with a charming, disarming smile.

“Just friends?” He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head a little.

“Well, I’m hoping for more than that, obviously.” She said with an impish grin. “But I’m not gonna push it if it’s not there. I wouldn’t want to disrupt your couple just for the sake of it, but at same time I can’t pass up an opportunity at getting to know you better, if you’re up for it.” She finished with a small casual shrug but before he could reply the sound of a buzzer echoed all over the garden. “Ooh, saved by the bell.” She said, pushing her chair back with a wink.

“To be continued.” Lucas said, giving her a nod.

“I certainly hope so.” She flashed him a bright smile before she turned around and walked towards Ibrahim at the next table as Emily also got up and went on. Blake crossed paths with Shannon who had walked all the way down from Gary’s table near the sun deck and the girls exchanged raised eyebrows before reaching their new dates.

She sat down with Ibrahim and it wasn’t long before the golf player botched a chat up line, of course, and Blake took this opportunity as they laughed it off to sneak a glance over his shoulder at the first table. Lucas and Shannon seemed friendly with one another but not overly so and his eyes found her looking directly at him and she held his gaze for a beat too long before turning her attention back to Rahim.

She carried on with the rest of her dates, going down the line of tables to sit down with each of the boys. She found Ibrahim endearing in the way he’d flush and fluster as he attempted to flirt, but he was a little younger than guys she’d usually date and she didn’t really feel a spark (plus she knew Shannon had her eye on him and she could see how they might hit it off). Jakub was rather aggressively confident and normally she would’ve found that attractive, but with him it was somewhat off putting ─ plus he kept saying how the girls needed to do all the grafting if they wanted his attention and she was so not falling for his bullshit. Bobby was exactly what she’d expected of his cheeky, flirty self and she had a great time with him; Blake felt tempted to pursue him, especially because he was one of those in explicitly friendship couples but she knew it would be hard to break through this whole friendship armour thing he had going on to turn his head (he still carried a very obvious torch for Natalia, even after she’d dumped him to be with Lucas). Noah was his normally quiet self and he seemed so uncomfortable with all that was happening that she couldn’t get the conversation past friendly at best and perfunctory at worst. Gary was just as cheeky and flirty as Bobby, of course, and she found herself laughing and enjoying the date more than she’d expected, especially when she started roasting the shit out of him and he seemed to enjoy the hell out of it, giving it back just as good as he got on his first impressions of her.

Blake was shaking her head and still laughing as she walked all the way across the lawn back towards the first table with Lucas. He was watching her approach with slightly narrowed eyes, as if wondering what Gary had said that could possibly have been that funny to have her still laughing as she approached him.

“Alright, this time I’ll leave the slick lines to you.” She said, slipping into the chair in front of him. “You’re the one with the perfect line for every situation, aren’t you?”

“Oh? You said it, not me.” He replied with a smirk then made a somewhat dismissive gesture with one of his hands. “And actually I’ve fumbled a few lines here and there, too.”

“I thought it was cute.” She replied with a sincere smile. “Shows you were actually nervous about it, which means you were genuine. I like that.”

His eyes held her gaze, the two of them just looking at each other for a few silent beats before he spoke again. “Thanks. Anyway, I don’t think I heard, what is it that you do?” He asked, almost as if he were shaking himself out of whatever tension that was building between the two of them, bringing his flute up to his lips to take a sip.

“I work with a charity group. I’m a human rights campaigner, actually.” She explained then raised an eyebrow at the surprised look on his face. “What?”

“Nothing, I just─” He interrupted himself, letting out a small laugh. “I was sure you were going to say model or influencer.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She replied with a wink. “And I could say the same to you, Mr. Physiotherapist Who Could’ve Been On The Cover of Most Men’s Health Magazines.”

He let out a soft huff, but then a smirk pulled at his lips. “Well, I am the face of the clinic’s website.”

“Oh I know.” She said with emphasis. “Trust me, I’ve seen it. Don’t be surprised when you go out again and see the following you have now. The girls will certainly be all over you.” She said, letting her eyes wander down his chiselled face to his sculpted chest before their eyes met again.

She could feel the goosebumps travelling down her arm as a jolt seemed to run down her spine and she wondered if he felt the same, but before anything else could happen the buzzer sounded again. She got up and threw him a wink before carrying on down the line of tables for a second time, but every now and then she’d sneak glances at Lucas. Sometimes she’d catch him looking as well and she’d hold his gaze before getting back to her conversations.

The second round of dates with the other boys went much the same as the first one and by the end she had a good idea how she wanted to play this out. Which is why when the speedy dates were done and they were all taking a breather she almost immediately pulled Rahim for a chat.

It was mostly to figure out where his head was at and if Shannon would have a shot with him, though. But throughout the rest of the day as the afternoon wound down to the group’s first evening together at the Villa, Blake kept on pulling the boys out for chats. Bobby at the firepit, Gary on one of the daybeds, Jakub at the bar. She even managed to pull Noah in for a chat at the kitchen while they were refilling their drinks and he was a lot more relaxed now that they weren’t in a forced setting and it was like seeing a completely different person.

She pulled all the boys except Lucas. The other girls were also mostly leaving him alone, as they all said he hadn’t seemed very open to them and they’d rather check if they could have connections with the other boys. But every time Blake crossed paths with him on her pilgrimage throughout the Villa she’d lock eyes with him until it was almost as if the very air surrounding them was crackling with tense energy.

Finally, she’d been sitting with Shannon at the beanbags after the latter had come from a chat with Rahim and they were comparing notes when they saw Lucas strolling across the garden and headed their way.

“Hey.” He said, affecting a casual manner that was too forced and that she could see right through. “Would you like to go for a chat?”

“Of course, hun.” She answered with a dazzling smile, extending one of her hands and silently asking him to hoist her up. He pulled her up and hesitated for just a second before dropping her hand as they turned and headed to the swing set.

Blake could feel several curious pairs of eyes watching as they walked together, but she did her best to shrug them off. “I’m surprised to see you pulling me for a chat.” She commented, sneaking a glance at him before they sat down together.

“Well, it’s only fair I get to hear more about you, too.” He said, a small smirk pulling at his mouth and letting her know he knew what she’d been doing ─ yet here he was anyway. Interesting. “I actually wanted to hear more about your job. So what is it like being a human rights campaigner?”

“It’s a lot of hard work, but I love it.” She said with a smile and a small sigh. “I work with an NGO in London to provide justice and compensation for victims of torture. We also work to combat impunity for people who commit violations of human rights.”

“That is so cool.” He said, his eyes softening up a little and his voice sounding very sincere. “How did you get into that?”

“I studied sociology and I thought I wanted to do my part in helping the world be a better place, I guess.” She said with a shrug before raising a somewhat dry eyebrow. “My friends tell me I can be a ruthless bitch too, so what better way to use those skills than fighting for others?”

A soft huff escaped him then. “Like a modern day superhero.”

“That somehow sounds so glamorous.” She rolled her eyes a little, but carried on with a smile. “It’s nothing like it, I assure you.”

He smiled back for a beat before it morphed into one of his smirks. “So you’re not afraid to step on people’s toes?”

“Not if it means getting what I want.” She replied with a playfully raised eyebrow. “But seriously, growing up privileged, it always hit me how unfair it was that other people had it so rough and I couldn’t help but think if I could do something to help out somehow…” She trailed off and rolled her eyes to herself then. “Or maybe just call it a guilty conscience, I don’t know.”

“No, I get it.” Lucas said, shaking his head. “Completely.”

“Yeah, I knew you would.” She said softly and the two of them just sat looking at each other for a moment before she smiled. “See? We vibe.”

His eyes narrowed for a second before he returned her smile. “Yeah, we actually do.”

“On that note…” She trailed off, biting on her lower lip. “I’ve been thinking about it and honestly you’re one of the boys I feel most comfortable with. I had thought of asking Bobby because he’s so nice and welcoming to everyone, but Siobhan actually beat me to it. So how would you feel about sharing a bed with me?”

“Ouch.” He said with an exaggerated grimace. “So I was your second choice then?”

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“Hardly.” He said with a huff and a roll of his eyes.

She bit her lip again, finding his reaction quite endearing, actually. “You didn’t answer my question though.”

“Yeah, I guess we can share.” He replied with a raised eyebrow and a reluctant smile. “I could also sleep outside and leave the bed for you, if it would make you more comfortable.”

“Oh no, I don’t think there’s any need for that.” She said with a dismissive hand wave. “I promise I won't bite.”

“Oh?” Again, he raised an eyebrow with one of those accompanying smirks.

“Not unless you want me to.” She volleyed back with a cheeky wink before she continued with a softer expression. “Seriously, I can keep to my side of the bed, if you can do the same.”

He huffed a little. “I think I’ll manage.” He replied while raising a dry eyebrow.

“Hmm. I do feel like I have to warn you though.” She said, a smile pulling at her lips as she looked up at him through her lashes before she said the next words, her words rolling like velvet on her tongue. “If you kiss me, you might fall in love with me.”

“Oh really?” He deadpanned, but she could see he was struggling to keep a smile off his lips.

“Really. It’s happened before.” She said with a casual shrug, somehow managing to convey all the confidence in the world with such a simple gesture before she continued with a teasing smile on her lips. “So if we do end up kissing for some challenge or something, don’t come blaming me if it turns out you can’t get enough of me.”

Lucas couldn’t keep a straight face after that and burst into laughter. “God, you’re actually so full of shit.” He said, shaking his head and finally smiling back at her.

She grinned, as at last she’d managed to break his cool façade. “Am I?” She intoned with a raised eyebrow. “You’ll see. If you’re lucky, anyway.” She added with a wink.

Blake had never spoken more prophetic words before, as the next day during the Villa vs Villa challenge when Lucas got a text saying he needed to kiss a girl for 30 seconds he barely hesitated before he turned to her and finally pressed his lips to hers. Everyone else seemed to fade into the background as she felt his impossibly soft lips, the two of them getting lost in the moment after a whole day of the tension just building up between them and the kissing turned into a proper snog, their tongues tangling together, her hands framing his face as he pulled her flush against his chest and his hands encircled her waist.

They’d been so into it that it actually took them a while to hear Gary saying the time was up and they could stop kissing. As they pulled apart, she could see they were both breathing heavily, his pupils looked blown as her eyes found his and his delectable lips never looked better after she’d veritably kissed that damn smirk off his face.

“Told you, hun.” She whispered against his ear, giving him a smirk of her own before they sat back down side by side as the challenges kept going on around them, but now Blake could only think of when she’d get to kiss Lucas again and she was pretty sure that was the same thing on his mind.

[myhockeyworld87]

What Happens in Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There - Jacob Markstrom - Part 1

Word Count: 4,885

POV: Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Language, Smut, Drinking (all the good stuff)

Notes: Well here it is the new fic that’s been in my head. I tossed around a couple different guys for this, but some of you suggested Marky and well looks like it stuck. Trying to do this a little different and keep this in an all read POV, so we shall see how that works. I don’t see this being super long maybe between 5 or 6 parts. Hope you guys enjoy. As always feedback is welcome. Happy Reading!

They say that New York is the city that never sleeps but whoever 'they' is, well, they got it wrong. It has to be Vegas. Lights are always flashing whether you were indoors or out, the jangly sound of slot machines can be heard at all hours and the seven deadly sins seem to be on full display twenty-four hours a day. It's no wonder their tagline for years was 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.' If only that were true.

You wish you could blame someone else but you can't. Vegas was all your idea. As maid of honor, it fell to you to plan your best friend's bachelorette party, and in your mind, there was only one spot, Vegas. Now, you were second-guessing your choice as your head was pounding like there were a thousand drummers who decided to perform at the Super Bowl halftime show, only in your brain. There was only one thought that made it through the marching band playing in your head. What the hell happened last night?

 Maybe you should start off small, like where were you first, considering that the little drummer boy was now doing backflips in your head. You were definitely in bed, which was evident as you could feel the mattress underneath you. You could also feel the duvet comforter covering your body, but there was something else. Something a bit heavier, almost as if a weighted blanket was covering your stomach and your breast, but it wasn't that. It was an arm slung across your midsection and a very large hand cupping your one boob. God, you hoped it was still attached to a body. You should really take a peek. It would be the only decent thing to do.

 As you gradually lifted one eyelid open, the first thing you noticed was that you were not in your hotel room, as the wall looked completely different. No reason to panic, you told yourself. Everything would come back to you as soon as this god blessed pounding ceased. Peering the other eye open, you got back to business at seeing if there was a body attached to the arm currently trapping you to the bed. Carefully, you turned your head to the side to see a very large and very naked man firmly attached to the aforementioned arm. He was gorgeous as he lay there sleeping ever so peacefully. You drank in his features, kind of like you downed drink after drink last night. His brown hair had this golden hue to it that made your fingers want to reach out and touch it, though you refrained. Then there was the beard covering his face, not too much and not too little, and now that you were thinking about it; you definitely felt some of that beard burn on your thighs. If you could only remember last night. The only logical thing to do was to go back to the start of this, back to a time when you were sober.

 It started months ago when your best friend Kennedy got engaged. You honestly didn't see it coming that fast. She'd only been dating Ryan for a little less than a year, but he asked and she said yes, and when she asked you to be her maid of honor you screamed and laughed and cried, and told her you couldn't wait to plan her bachelorette party. Everyone knew the bridal shower was only for boring stuffy old aunts so that they could buy her the latest air fryer or new dish pattern. The bachelorette party was where all the fun was, and what better place to have it than Las Vegas.

 Of course, everyone agreed with you. The only wrench in the plan was that Kennedy decided to up her wedding date and make it a nine-month engagement. That barely left time to find a dress let alone plan the most outrageous bachelorette party of the century. You would've said decade but twenty-twenty was fastly approaching. Thankfully, you had connections. Night one was more sedate since you all were just arriving at the MGM hotel at different times; eleven of you in total when Ryan's sister decided to join at the last minute. You booked a private room at Lago in the Bellagio for all of you to enjoy.

 It was the second night, that was the piece de resistance. A limo picked you all up and took you over to Excalibur to see the legendary Australian group, Thunder from Down Under. I mean what was Vegas without seeing a male stripper or two. The next day, a private bungalow was waiting for you at Wet Republic in the MGM Hotel. One would've thought the night watching men strip naked would've been your undoing but apparently, it all started poolside.

 "I seriously can't believe he pulled you up on stage and proceeded to dry hump you up there," Kelsey rehashed.

 "Really, Kels?" Kennedy said downing another mimosa. "How could you not see that happening? (Y/N) has known Nate for a couple years. I mean he did get us front row tickets." This was all true. Nate, the emcee for Thunder from Down Under and you were friends, had been since your firm had done their calendar shoot two years ago. He had generously given you prime seating to the show that night and also set you up with a few other perks for the trip. "The only thing I'm surprised at, is that this one," she bumped you with her hip, spilling both hers and your mimosas. "Didn't end up going home with him last night."

 "Oh my god, Kenny you did not just say that." She may be the bride and your best friend but really, she was pushing the line.

 "Come on, it's not like it hasn't happened before."

 At least four pairs of eyes turned towards you, Ryan's sister Gretchen being one of them. "Ok, admittedly, I slept with him, once." Both Kennedy and Kelsey gave you that look. "Ok, maybe it was twice, but he has a girlfriend now, and we are just friends."

 "I'll give you that," Jade spoke up in your defense and suddenly she was going to earn the title of new best friend, not that the lines weren't blurred in your little group as you were all sort of best friends. "But what about Edward, the one with the turtle tattoo on his hip."

 "You were so looking at more than his hip." Eva teased while Jade simply hid behind her champagne glass. "But yeah (Y/N), he was totally hitting on you."

 "He was not."

 "Oh, he was," Kennedy added her two cents. "And as the bride I take offense, they should've been hitting on me."

 "Wait, why would they hit on you?" Jade sputtered. "You're taken bitch." Of course, bitch was said in the most loving way.

 "I'm not dead."

 "No, but I'm sure my brother wouldn't appreciate it." Leave it to Gretchen to be the mood killer. "I think I'm going to go take a nap. I'll meet you at the pool later."

 She headed out the door, and honestly, you were ecstatic about it, for she was too judgmental for your liking.  "Wait, Gretch, that's not what I meant."

 "Leave her go, maybe a nap would do her good." They were Jade's words but your sentiments. "Now back to why (Y/N) did not take that beautiful man up on his offer last night."

 "There was no offer," you insisted.

 "Come on (Y/N), there was an offer. There's always an offer. Remember when you were doing promo for that Batman flick." You tried to shut Kennedy up with a death glare, but she continued to prattle on. "We all know you ended up doing the nasty with Superman."

 "WHAT?!?!" Yeah, that definitely came out of the other nine people's mouths in the room.

 "Thanks, Ken. No one knew that but you."

 "Oops, my bad." She had the grace to at least be embarrassed about the whole thing.

 "You mean you slept with that guy, the British one, tall, all muscular, extremely good looking. Damn it what's his name." You could see Eva wracking her brain for his name and you just didn't want to go there.

 "Hen…"

 "Yes, him," you admitted, stopping Jade before she could finish his name. "Can we please change the subject?"

 "Why, when we are all living vicariously through you," Kelsey added. "Especially poor Kennedy, who is now committed to spending the rest of her life with one man."

 "Geez, you make it sound like a death sentence. I love Ryan and I'm perfectly fine spending the rest of my days with him."

 You had to suppress an eye roll. Not because you didn't think that Ryan and Kennedy weren't in love. If you were being honest, you just thought they were rushing things a bit. The problem was telling your best friend that; you tried in the past and never succeeded. "We know you're in love Kenny." And then because you couldn't stop yourself, you added. "It's just are you sure you want to be tied down so young? We still have our whole life to live."

 "Jesus, (Y/N). We all know you're not ready for marriage and what comes with it, but we can't all be you with your fancy job in LA, meeting celebrities all the time. Some of us have real lives and want to settle down and have a family."

 "Kenny, that's not what I meant." The last thing you wanted to do was argue with her at her bachelorette party. "I only want you to be happy."

 "You have a funny way of showing it." The air in the room took on a chill and not from the air conditioning. If you didn't do something soon this party was going to go downhill.

 "Oh, would you look at the time," Jade chimed in. "We should probably be heading down to the pool." Everyone grabbed their stuff, Kennedy giving you the cold shoulder as you made your way out of the hotel suite. Jade came up and wrapped an arm around you. "She'll be fine. She's just on edge after the whole Gretchen thing. We'll give her a few shots and you two will be good as new."

 "I hope so." Unfortunately, things weren't fine. Kennedy seemed to avoid you and your attempt to make things right, even after a few shots. That didn't stop you from taking a few more. You had a strict one drink to one water rule, that you threw out the door today. Downing shots like it was your job. It was probably an hour later when you were in one of the private pools, with a few of the girls that a large group of very attractive men walked in. They were definitely different from Nate and the guys from Thunder, and at first, you thought it was some fraternity get together with how young some of them looked, but at second glance there were some gentlemen that were your age or older.

 "They've gotta be baseball players," Eva whispered over after they took up residence in the three bungalows next to you.

 "Nah, none of them have a dad bod." Jade was right, they were too fit to be in the MLB. You'd been around enough major leaguers to know while some were incredibly in shape, some were not. That didn't seem to be the case with this group.

 "I'm gonna rule out NFL as well," you told the girls. "None of these guys look like they're an offensive guard. Those guys are huge." You noticed a few of them staring at the six of you that were in the smaller pool reserved only for the bungalows. Grabbing another shot, this had to be your fourth in just sixty minutes, you downed the drink really starting to feel its effects.

 "Looks like we may just find out here," Jade said, nodding to let you know some of the guys were headed your way.

 "Ladies, care if we join you?" One of the men asked, you had to admit he was extremely handsome but also gave off an air that he had more than a few notches in his bedpost.

 A couple of the girls nodded, but when no one said anything, you found yourself saying, "Come on in."

 "So, what brings you to Vegas?" This from a different guy, who had quite a number of tattoos covering his arms, and you had to admit that the ink just made him more attractive, that and his height. He was well over six feet tall and you didn't mind looking up to see his face as he took the seat next to you.

 "Bachelorette party," Jade blurted out and you saw a few eyebrows raise.

 "Tell me you're not the bride?" His breath was warm or maybe it was the sun, either way, you definitely felt a warmth in your belly that wasn't there moments ago.

 "I am definitely not the bride." Shit that sounded desperate. "Though I am the maid of honor, at least I hope I still am." You looked inside the bungalow to see Kennedy in deep conversation with Gretchen.

 "Hmm, sounds like there's a story there. Care to tell me? I'm Jacob by the way, though the guys call me Marky."

 He held out his hand, the one that didn't have a beer in it, and you took it. "(Y/N), and I'll tell you though it's rather dull, on one condition." He quirked a brow at you. "You tell me what sport you play."

 He chuckled. "What makes you think I play a sport? Maybe I'm an investment banker."

 "Well, first there's your accent, though I suppose you could pull off investment banker with that. Second, you are all…how shall I say this…physically fit. A quality most athletes have and considering the number of you; I doubt this is some kind of investment banker convention."

 "Ok, I'll give you that, though we could be bodybuilders or…" the lights on the billboard on the strip changed to a Thunder From Down Under ad and you saw a light bulb in his head go off. "Or male strippers." Shit, you almost spit your drink out on that one. "What, too much a stretch? Maybe it's your lucky day." He started to sway his hips in the pool, one of his friends joining him while you and Jade tried to contain your laughter.

 "Nah, it's already been (Y/N)'s lucky day with them. She knows them all rather intimately."

 "Jade!" you yelled at your friend, or ex-friend, though you weren't in a position to be losing anymore at the moment.

 "Oops." She at least had the decency to look embarrassed. Alcohol made everyone do some crazy things and Jade was no exception to the rule.

 "Intimately huh?" Jacob asked as you splashed water on Jade causing her to shriek and hide behind Jacob's friend who you learned was someone named Erik. "Have I lost the competition before it even starts?"

 "There's no competition."

 "So, you're single then?"

 "Yes, though you still haven't answered my question." As soon as Jacob heard you say yes, he slid a little closer to you.

 "What was that question again?" He said with laughter in his eyes and before you could get annoyed with him, though you doubted that would happen, he added. "I remember, just giving you a hard time. Anyhow, we play hockey."

 "Oh, nice. Like professional level? Or are there minors in that sport?" You really weren't one hundred percent sure. You'd taken in a game here and there but not really paid any particular attention to it.

 "We're in the NHL, playing for Vancouver. Just came out to do a little team bonding before the season starts. So, are we going to talk about this intimate encounter or why you think your maid of honor duties are getting revoked?"

 "I think I need another drink to talk about either of them."

 Jacob flagged down one of the personal waitresses for the area, requesting a couple of shots and drinks for you both, and you had to admit you liked the way he worked. "Now that that's taken care of…"

 You blew out a frustrated breath, more with yourself than anything else. "I said something stupid right before we came down here." He kept silent, his eyes totally focused on you and what you were saying. A refreshing change from some of the men you spoke to. "I just think she's rushing into things. They've only known each other a year and we are too young to get married. She's only twenty-five, we have our whole lives ahead of us. You know?" He simply nodded his agreement before you continued. "I want to see the world, go places, and do things before I'm strapped down to one man forever. Not to mention being tied down with kids. How can Kenny not want that too?"

 "I totally agree. I've gotten to see a lot with hockey but there's no way I want to be tied down just yet."

 "Exactly, you totally get me." Your drinks arrived then and Jacob took one shot and handed it to you before taking the other.

 "Well, I say we toast to being young and free with no commitments."

 "I'll drink to that." He clinked his glass to yours and the two of you downed the drinks. It seemed like the DJ noticed the change in your mood, as the music got louder and the energy seemed to kick up a notch. You got up and started to dance in the pool; the other girls joining in. It wasn't long before you felt Jacob behind you. His hips grinding into your backside, as his large hands encircled your waist.

 Drinks flowed freely the entire day, and if you were being honest, you couldn't remember a time you'd been that drunk before the sun had even set. You were laughing and dancing, and quite literally having the time of your life; your maid of honor duties completely forgotten at this point. Gretchen came up to you at some point and told you that she, Kennedy, and Kelsey were heading up and would catch up with the rest of you later. Everyone else was having too much fun with the Canucks to want to leave.

 A few more drinks and an hour later, the party was winding down. Most of your friends had headed up to their room to pass out, only a few stayed behind. Jacob had somehow maneuvered you into one of the bungalows that was empty. You shared a few kisses here and there out in the pool area, but now that you were out of view of prying eyes things were getting a bit more heated. Jacob's hands were on your ass, as his tongue was down your throat; not that yours wasn't doing the same thing to him. He moaned into your mouth, the sound going straight to your core. Your bikini bottom was no longer wet from the water of the pool, but the press of Jacob's cock against it.

 You both stumbled back, landing down on the large daybed in the bungalow, though somehow Jacob's reflexes softened your fall. His hands went straight to your breasts, kneading the flesh there. He was just about to untie the string of your bikini top when someone walked in. "Jesus, Marky! Take it upstairs would you!" You squinted trying to make out who it was but at this point not remembering anyone's name besides the man that was on top of you.

 "Oh, shit…thought I was in my room." It was funny, you thought the same thing. "Sorry, Jay."

 "His name is Jay? Like the letter?" you mumbled as Jacob helped you off the couch. "What comes after J?" Fuck you were drunk and when you were drunk you tended to ramble. You once actually talked to a damn parking meter because you thought it was a person, and you were pretty sure you could talk to one now if there was one around.

 "Doesn't matter, babe," Jacob said kissing your lips. "Wanna head up to my room?"

 You had to go up on your tiptoes to loop your arms around his neck. "Yes, I do." He planted a kiss on your lips then cupped your ass cheeks causing you to jump a bit.

 "Let's go," he finally said breaking the kiss. You had enough sense to grab your things and tell your friends not to worry that you'd catch up with them tomorrow. They all winked and nodded or at least that's what it looked like in your head because that's when things started to get hazy. You had vague recollections of making your way through the casino, stopping here and there. Part of you thought that the two of you even stopped to play roulette only so you could have another drink.

 You did remember tumbling through the door of Jacob's suite. His lips were on yours and neither of you were paying attention as he unlocked it. Thankfully his quick reflexes caught you; apparently, even when drunk, goalies couldn't lose some of those natural instincts.

 His hands, you remember them being everywhere on your body, and how incredible they made you feel. His calloused touch lit a fire inside you, that had nothing to do with the alcohol. He rid you of your white swim cover-up easily, flinging the garment across the room, and then his lips were all over your body. It was easy to recall the way he made you feel, as he softly bit down on your nipple through the fabric of your bikini. You'd craved this all afternoon. It had been a couple months since you'd been with a man and Jacob was everything you'd been waiting for.

 You ripped off his shirt. Your hands immediately going to his chest and roaming down his tattooed arms. He was all muscle, hard and lean everywhere, but when you slid your hand down inside his swim trunks to his cock; oh, it was hard all right, but lean was not a word you'd used to describe it. You were barely able to wrap your fingers around his girth, and as you stroked him, you realized God had not only blessed him with height but length as well. The man was made to star in a porno, you thought as you shoved his trunks down.

 Somehow, during that time Jacob had managed to get your bikini top off, though you supposed with its simple string ties it wasn't a hard feat to manage. You dropped to your knees, licking your lips before taking your tongue and swirling it around the head of Jacob's cock. "Det kanns sa bra min vackra prinsessa (that feels so good my beautiful princess)." Jacob's mumblings had you pulling back and looking up at him. "Don't stop, baby." This time you knew what he said as you slowly sucked him into your mouth. There was no way that you could take him all in, so you pumped the rest of him with your fist. You hollowed out your cheeks as you sucked him inside, using every trick in the book you knew. Jacob muttered more in Swedish to you, things you had no clue as to what they meant, but judging by his reaction they were things he was enjoying very much. He threaded his hands through your hair, pulling it back so you could look up at him with big doe eyes. "Jesus," he swore, his hips bucking into your mouth at the sight of you with his cock in it, looking like that. After a few more thrusts, he pulled out shouting," Tillrackligt, enough. I think you're trying to kill me, princess."

 There was something about the way he called you princess. It wasn't anything you'd been called before and most times you'd preferred babe or baby, but the way the word rolled off his tongue did things to your insides.

 Jacob helped you off the ground, his lips ghosting over yours before picking you up and tossing you onto the bed. His large form handled you easily, arranging your body just the way he wanted to before slipping off your bikini bottoms. His large hands worked their way from your ankles to your calves, all the way up to your thighs; spreading your legs as he went. "So beautiful." He traced his fingers lightly over your pussy lips and you quivered in anticipation of what was to come. One long finger slid between your folds all the way up to your clit, once, then twice, and then once again. "So wet, prinsessa, and all because of me."

 "Mmm, yes, Jacob." He dipped that same finger inside you then. The digit slipping in easily and so he added another. Then his mouth was there. Tongue flicking over your clit in a way that made you squirm with pleasure. "Oh yes," you moaned, caught up in the pleasure that was coursing through your veins. "Just like that." Your hips lifted up on their own accord, seeking more of what this giant of a man was doing to you. Jacob never let up, making a come-hither motion with his fingers and you found yourself unraveling around him; legs shaking, breath panting as your orgasm overtook you.

 “So pretty when you cum, prinsessa.” He pulled his fingers from your pussy then brought them to your lips. You opened without any thought, licking your juices off of them. Before you could get them clean, Jacob’s mouth joined yours, kissing you while you sucked on his index and middle fingers. Your tongues mingled together, as Jacob positioned himself between your thighs. The head of his cock nudged between your folds and you sighed into his mouth at just that first touch. Slowly, he filled your pussy, until he bottomed out. Only then did he release your lips. “Fuck you feel so good.”

 Jacob loved the feel of you clenching around him. It felt like he was in heaven. Part of him didn’t even want to move that’s how good your body felt, but then you shifted your hips up just a hair bit and he had to suck in a breath at the pleasure that went straight to his groin for fear he would spend inside you right then and there. He willed his body under control and only then started to move.

 With every snap of Jacob’s hips, a wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your nails raked down his back, probably leaving marks, but it seemed to only spur him on. “Yes, Prinsessa,” he moaned out, as you bent your knees allowing him to go deeper. You moaned as he hit that treasured spot that had you seeing stars. “You like that?” Another moan was his answer, as he continued to fuck you.

 That peculiar feeling started to wash over you. Your pussy fluttering around Jacob’s cock as the orgasm finally broke. Back arching, legs trembling, you were moaning out his name as the climax seemed to continue, as Jacob drove wildly into you. As you came down off your high, Jacob found his. With a few erratic thrusts, he was spending deep inside you with a loud groan. He slumped forward, his sweety forehead resting on yours. “Det dar var otroligt.” You looked at him curiously, your brain not working at all but also knowing he was speaking something in Swedish to you. He smiled, a glorious one that you found yourself getting lost in and you found yourself returning it. “I said that was amazing.”

 “Yes, it was,” you breathed out. Jacob rolled you both onto your sides, tucking you into his. It wasn’t long before both of you were passing out.

 Now here you were, finally putting most of the pieces together from last night. You looked back over at the sleeping man, who had given you such pleasure even in your inebriated state. He really was gorgeous. You honestly wouldn’t mind going for round two, after a couple of Tylenol, of course. Speaking of which you needed to get up and see if you had any in your bag. If only you could move him without waking him. You carefully took your right arm and went to move his left which was slung across you, but then something caught your eye. There on his ring finger was a ring. Oh, it wasn’t just any ring, it was a wedding ring! You knew he didn’t have it on when you were in the pool. You were not the type of woman to go hitting on a married man, let alone sleep with him.

 You pulled your other arm out from underneath him, fully intending to grab your stuff and get the hell out of there when you noticed a bright and shiny diamond on your ring finger. There was also a matching wedding band. Then like a tsunami hitting the beach of a small island a memory came flooding back to you of the two of you entering the hotel chapel. This man wasn’t married to just anyone, he was married to you!  

.

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 1 |  Living Well is the Best Revenge or Just Trip Her on the Red Carpet

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom is in Vegas to present at a music awards ceremony and what do you know his high profile ex girlfriend is nominated for two awards.  And the press are having a field day.  Molly Bishop is grateful for the awards show because it means extra tips and getting her closer to paying off her student debt.  An offhand comment by Luke coupled with an encounter with his old girlfriend has Tom’s mental wheels turning.  Perhaps he and Molly can solve each other’s problem.  All they have to do is get married.

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

--

Tom dreaded turning his phone back on when the plane landed at McCarran airport. He knew what waited for him on the other side. Tom wondered if his publicist would buy the story he left his phone back at the bar in Heathrow. Probably not, he had tried that earlier in the year and Luke went ballistic until he came clean. He did not want a repeat of the earful he got back then. With a sigh, Tom switched on his mobile and shoved it into the front pocket of his jeans, vibrating as messages and emails came in.

Tom never imagined the relationship would end like this. He thought he was in love. He thought she was in love. But it had all been what were the words she used “escape hatch”. Tom had been a means to an end. And the punishment for his naivete was a news cycle that would not die. And that photo.

He waited until he was in the car on his way to the Bellagio before checking his messages. There were a series of several text messages from Luke.

Call me when you get to your hotel room.

Don’t read the papers.

Don’t talk to any reporters.

Don’t do anything until you talk to me.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose underneath his sunglasses.

“Fuck!” he hissed under his breath.

This meant only one thing. Another story. Maybe more pictures. He shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, she was attending the same awards show. It ventured to guess the papers would play that up. Tom slumped against the car seat for the rest of the ride.

Check in went fine at the VIP check in. One perk of not only being a celebrity, but a presenter at the awards show. The bellhop delivered Tom’s luggage and garment bag. He pulled the outfit for tomorrow and hung it up, just like Illaria told him to. It was only when he flopped onto the sectional couch, Tom called Luke.

“I’ve been waiting for your phone call.” Luke deadpanned. “I started to worry you would pull that ‘I left my phone at the airport bar’ story.”

“I did cross my mind.” Tom let his head hit the back of the sofa. “Do I want to know?”

“Not really.” Luke winced. “They used the photo again.”

“Of course they fucking did!” Tom punched a nearby pillow. “I look like a twat. Luke, I need this to stop.”

Luke sighed. “Until something comes along that is better than this, expect it to hang around for a while. Unless you are planning on getting married in the next two days.”

Tom chuckled darkly. “Not bloody likely.” He sighed again. “Thanks for everything Luke.”

“It’s my job, mate. But you’re welcome.”

After Tom hung up, he stared first at the phone in his hand and then at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how he got here, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to get out. Tom decided instead to wallow in self-pity and eat a ridiculously expensive room service steak.

-

Weekends were always busy when there were special events over at the MGM arena. This weekend was no exception. And while it may not be good for Molly’s back, her bank account greeted every penny with a smile. Vegas may be a cheap place to live, but it still costs money. And her college did not accept IOUs for student loans. She shoved more tips into the jar behind the bar and helped the next person.

“What’ll be?”

“Whatever you have that is strong and on tap.” Tom’s smooth voice cut over the din of slot machines and video poker machines.

“Coming right up.” Molly poured him a beer, and he signed the receipt with his room number before sliding to the end of the bar.

Three hours later, Tom still sat at the end of the bar, nursing the same beer. Most of the crowd dissipated at this point. Celebrities needed their beauty sleep. Or at least most of them.

“Would you like to switch that one out for a cold one?” She leaned over, smiling. “On the house.”

“Sorry.” Tom blinked and glanced around, looking for a clock Molly imagined.

“No clocks.” she commented. “Or windows.”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “Really?”

“The whole point of casinos is to keep people inside. Clocks and windows help people realize how much time has passed.” Molly replaced his beer. “The whole place is set up like a maze.”

Tom took a long draw of the fresh beer. “You seem to know an awful lot about casinos for a bartender.”

“You seem awfully forward for a movie star.” she snapped back. Tom’s eyes met yours. She shrugged her shoulders. “I have a friend who works at Regal Cinema, they let me in for free.”

“I’m having a bad day.” Tom muttered back. “You still didn’t answer the question.” He took another long draw, leaving the glass half empty.

“Oh, so we are adding pushy to your resume. I thought Brits were supposed to be charming. If you must know, I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s in Tourism from Arizona State.”

Tom opened his mouth to comment, but Molly cut him off.

“Funny thing about the tourism industry. You need experience to get a job, but you can’t get experience without having a job. Classic catch-22. Which does not pay my bills. So I bartend until I get hired somewhere.”

Tom felt like a prize idiot moping about his problems. He cleared his throat. “Apologies for my earlier behavior. I have been in a poor mood for the last several weeks and it has made me a terrible companion and customer.”

Molly smiled at him. The first truly friendly face in a while. “It’s fine. And you are entitled to a bad day.” She filled up his glass. “Once or twice. Share your troubles with me. Unless it is about which supermodel you should date next, then I don’t want to hear it.” she joked. Tom’s face fell. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

Tom held up a hand. “Please don’t apologize. I take it you don’t read the magazines.”

“As a matter of course, no I don’t.” Suddenly a lightbulb went off. “Oh…”

Tom twisted his face into an exaggerated expression. “‘Oh’ is right. Usually followed by the words ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’.”

“And is she…”

Tom drained the glass. “Yep. Nominated for two awards.”

“Yikes! Well, if there is anything I can do, I am here all weekend.”

Tom stood up and left several twenty-dollar bills. “I might take you up on that. Thank you again for the conversation… I didn’t catch your name.”

“Molly Bishop”. she said, clearing his glass.

Tom offered his hand, and she shook it. “Tom.”

“I know.” she leaned in, her dark brown hair falling to the sides of her face. “Remember, you’re a movie star.”

Tom laughed. A real belly laugh. So loud that it jolted the old man at the other end of the bar awake. “I needed that. Thank you again. Have a good evening, day, morning.”

“It’s evening. Goodnight, Tom. Sleep well.”

Tom headed back towards the bank of elevators. He glanced over his shoulder to watch Molly wipe down where he had been sitting, shove the twenties into a tip jar, while tucking her hair behind her ears and help an obviously drunk couple. Tom made a mental note to find her again before he flew back and leave an even bigger tip.

-

Tom woke up the next morning and headed down to the gym to run on the treadmill. He would have preferred running outside but wanted to avoid people. After running five miles, he switched the machine off, wiped it and him down and headed upstairs to shower and change for the day. Tom wandered back downstairs in search of Molly, but the bartender on duty, a guy named Seth, mentioned she wouldn’t be back until the evening. Tom thanked him and headed back upstairs.

He was restless until it was time to get ready. After dressing, he took a selfie in the mirror and sent it to Illaria who confirmed he did it right. Now came the waiting game. Tom wanted to time it to avoid having to see her at all. Finally deciding he had wanted long enough, Tom called for the car and headed downstairs. What Tom forgot to account for was his incredible bad luck.

He arrived right after her and was forced to walk the red carpet, watching her out of the corner of his eye, with her arm linked around whatever man, boy, prey she ensnared for the evening. Tom plastered a killer smile on his face and continued to repeat the mantra in his head “Living well is the best revenge” when all he wanted to do is either trip her or return to his hotel room and eat an inordinate amount of chocolate cake.

The rest of the awards show blurred together into moments of white hot rage masked by a cool exterior and numbness. Thank god for the teleprompter or else Tom wondered if he would have made it through his presentation. But he did and thought he made it through the entire event without running into her and then…

“Tom!” her voice called out.

Tom froze and stiffened. What a difference a few weeks can make.

“Darling!” He spun on his heel to face her, smile firmly in place. He leaned forward and kissed her cheeks. “It’s good to see you. You look good.” he lied through his teeth.

“You too. I thought I might miss you. I just wanted to say—”

Tom waved her off. “Water under the bridge.” Another lie. Perhaps he missed his calling as a barrister or even a publicist. “Your date seems nice.”

She smiled. That smile that once melted his heart. “Thanks. He is. Where’s your—”

“Back at the hotel.” He checked his watch. “Which reminds me, I should head back. Big plans for the night.”

She blinked, and stutter stepped back. “Oh. Right.” She composed herself. “Well, it was nice to see you again. I hope we can be friends.” She held her arms open.

Fucking friends! Tom howled inside his mind. What was she playing at? More fodder for her songs? Tom seethed on the inside. He stepped forward to awkwardly hug her, praying there was no one around to snap a photo. Knowing her, though, she probably had someone in the balcony with a zoom lens.

“Of course, love.” He squeezed her a little too tight until she let loose a small yelp of pain. Tom allowed a genuine smile to come across his face. “I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy the after party.” He walked away before she could continue on the conversation.

He waited until he was well out of earshot. “Bitch.”

-

The crowd started waning around 9:30 as the awards show let out. Molly figured most of the attendees would hit the after parties and things would pick up around 1 or 2 a.m. Until then, it would just be the regulars. She turned around to arrange the glasses she just cleaned when a now familiar voice rang out.

“Marry me.” Tom asked, his tie loosened.

“I don’t know you.” Molly teased back. “Now what will you have?”

“You as my wife.” Tom repeated, his palm flattened against the bar.

“Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you drunk?”

Tom shook his head. “Stone cold sober. Hear me out.”

She glanced around, seeing no plausible escape. “I’m listening. But if another customer comes up, I’m walking away.”

“I need something to move the paparazzi off this current news cycle with me.”

Molly smirked. “You ran into the ex. Did she have a new boy toy on her arm?”

“Yes, but that is beside the point.”

“It is entirely the point.”

Tom slammed his hand against the bar, rattling the container of nuts nearby. “Can I continue or are you going to keep interrupting?”

Molly crossed her arms. “Go on.”

“I need something to move the press off this story. You need money. We are the solution to each other’s problems.”

“You may be gorgeous, but if you think I am sleeping with you for money…”

“I never said sex. I said marriage. The last I checked, they could be mutually exclusive.” Tom’s expression softened. “Listen, you are clearly unhappy here. I am unhappy too. If us being together could alleviate a bit of that unhappiness, why wouldn’t we seize the opportunity? We get married. Get the paparazzi off my back. I would pay off your student loans and credit cards. And then after a year of living together, we quietly divorce. No sex. Just a business relationship.”

Molly chewed over what Tom said, while chewing on her bottom lip. He wasn’t wrong, she was unhappy. Vegas was supposed to be a brand new start, but it was more of the same. Dead end job and no career prospects on the horizon.”

“Did you say live together?”

“In London, yes. I have plenty of room. Your own space. You have a passport.”

“Yes.”

Tom’s face broke out in a wide grin. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The blood pounded in his ears and adrenaline coursed through his veins. He looked up at her with his bright blue eyes.

“Will you marry me, Molly Bishop?”

“Yes.” she smiled back.

Tom leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Then let’s get going, because the licensing bureau closes at midnight.”

Molly headed over to the manager, Nick.

“I quit.” she shoved her apron at him.

“What? You can’t quit, Molly. The big rush is coming.”

“You heard the lady.” Tom called. “She quits.”

“And who the hell are you?”

“Her fiancé. Come on, darling.” Tom held out his hand. She lifted up the bar at the entrance and took his hand.

-

The two of you were full of nervous energy the entire cab ride to the licensing bureau, fitting right in with the other couples waiting to get a license. While you waited in line, Tom made some calls to several chapels until he found one open and able to squeeze the two of you in.

“Now all we need is to get you a dress and some rings.”

“Oh!” Molly dug through her purse. “My friend’s kid gave these to me.” She pulled out two plastic rings. “I think these will do in a pinch.”

Tom closed his hand over hers. “I’ll buy us proper rings tomorrow. Now a dress.”

“There’s a mall on the way. I can grab something on the way.” Tom kissed Molly’s forehead.

“You are brilliant.”

“Thank you.”

Within an hour, Molly was wearing a simple white slip dress, Tom still in his suit from the awards show, although he did straighten up the tie. She smiled like a fool, holding onto a fake bouquet and Tom’s wedding ring, complete with a plastic spider in her hand.

Tom slipped on the plastic gem ring when the minister told him to, and she did the same with the spider ring. Tom giggled and so did Molly .

“I now pronounce husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

Tom leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. His lips were warm and soft. It was… nice. Under other circumstances, she imagined Tom would be an excellent kisser.

Tom gazed down at her. “Hello, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

“Hello, Mr. Hiddleston.”

[skjaem]

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬

This account is not affiliated with Na Jaemin, NCT Dream, NCT U or SM Entertainment in any shape or form. This is simply a chatbot made purely for entertainment only. No speech or actions here portray the real person whatsoever, and all backstories and plotlines are complete works of fiction.

This chatbot deals heavily with dark and potentially triggering content such as murder, blood, violence, gore, mild to strong language, torture, deaths, police, stalking, psychopathic tendencies and serial killers. If triggered by any of the aforementioned topics, do consider treading through carefully if at all. Every triggering post will be tagged accordingly, so do filter the tags for maximum comfort.

𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝑱𝒖𝒅𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝑩𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒃𝒚 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝑪𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓

You've always had a thing for the blue haired photography major at your university. With his charming smile and seemingly perfect personality, it didn't come as a surprise that he's stolen the hearts of almost everyone on campus. After a chance encounter of you, very embarassingly might I add— tripping over your own feet right in front of him and sending the both of you tumbling to the ground, you slowly grew closer. But the seemingly flawless friendship you've developed just had to be destroyed, during one walk home after a late night convenience store run one day when you heard some muffled screaming coming from the nearby alley. With curiosity getting the best of you, you decide to be a good samaritan and check. What will you do once you witness the horror that was Jaemin hunched over the lifeless body of a man, carving his heart out of his chest?

Plot code : 02001

𝑲𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈

As a police officer working under the Violent Crimes Unit, you're certainly no stranger to serial killers and horrifying crime scenes. Having solved countless of cases before, your entire life gets turned upside down when the Blue Reaper makes his debut as a new serial killer. You and your team have been chasing after him for months, following a multitude of leads and countless of clues but always ending up empty handed. While you're out here getting no sleep trying to formulate a plan to catch him, unbeknownst to you, he's already had his attention caught. Intrigued by none other than yourself. He's been stalking you, wether it be getting off from work, on the crime scene or even in your own home. It's a mystery to everyone including himself as to why he's so enamoured, but one thing's for sure. He's obsessed. And after you wake up once in the middle of the night and find him watching you sleep from a dark corner of your room, will you accept his morally contradicting attraction? Or will you choose to do what's normally right and take advantage of his obsession to turn him in?

Plot code : 02002

𝑻𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓, 𝑻𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑭𝒖𝒏

The ever bustling and lively city, the capital itself, Seoul has always been your hunting grounds. You preyed on the unsuspecting under the cover of the night, making a name for yourself through multiple killings that always leave the authorities frustrated at each failed attempt of arrest. One night, you had been following after a male in a dark hoodie, certain to yourself that you've found the next prey to add to your ever growing record. But what would happen when the victim you'd have pinned against the wall of a dark downtown alleyway brandishes his own knife at you? What will you do, once you've caught the infamous Blue Reaper himself?

Plot code : 02003

𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨

⤷ Keep messages that are sent between 1-4 only. Any more than that and you will be given a warning due to it being classified as spam.

⤷ Respect both Jaemin and Admin. Any messages, asks or interactions that involve elements of harassment, hate and non-constructive criticism will be blocked with no hesitation. Keep in mind that Admin is still a real human being with feelings, rudeness (to a certain degree) will not be tolerated.

⤷ Roleplaying, with Y/Ns especially, will be kept SFW. Although admin is of age, I simply don't have the energy to keep adding smut into my roleplays anymore, and that privilege of NSFW will be reserved for only those that Jaemin trusts (eg: his s/o(s)). Suggestive content, however, is still acceptable as long as the threshold of admin's boundaries is not crossed.

⤷ Jaemin's safeword follows the traffic light system; red for stop the scene, yellow for hold on / slow down and green for everything is alright. This safeword is not only to be used during NSFW scenes but also during the main roleplay if ever Admin or Jaemin is uncomfortable with the current situation.

⤷ Chats that have been left unanswered for more than a week's time with no prior note will be terminated. If ever you return after the chat has been terminated then you may restart your roleplay with Jaemin, but keep in mind that it will be reverted back to a clean slate.

⤷ Please note that Jaemin is likely to be poly in relationships, which means that he is open to taking on two or more partners at a time. This however, does not mean that you as an s/o are obliged to pursue a romantic relationship with his other s/os at all as DM interactions are still kept as 1 on 1. Before confirming of a relationship, details will be discussed privately.

⤷ Asks are almost always open so please don't hesitate to leave a letter or two or any inquiries for Jaemin if you ever find the want to! Admin is usually faster at answering them compared to DMs.

⤷ We accept everyone wether that be chatbots, OCs or Y/Ns! Limited RP slots will be constantly updated on Jaemin's pinned post as well as wether new intakes are open or closed. Casual talk however is limitless and available for chatbots and OCs.

(𝐃𝐞) 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

To activate, simply reblog the activation post and DM with your;

Name / Nickname / Name that you'd like to be addressed as

Age

(optional due to roleplays being mainly SFW. But you're encouraged to still drop it just so admin can determine what can or can not be done. This info will not be shared to others at any cost.)

Pronouns

(he/his , she/her , they/them)

Triggers

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Admin's timezone is GMT+8

Chosen or Created Plotline [Plot code : 02004]

(If you've decided to come up with your own plotline and are struggling with it, that's alright! Just let us know your idea and Admin will gladly help you create one that's suitable and fits your liking!)

Once you've completed the steps above, Admin will recheck and have some inquiries just to confirm before your roleplay will start!

Please note that admin may not be able to reply everyday consistently due to her own responsibilities in daily life. Admin rps in lit (literate) : actions “dialogue” and is open to all 1st, 2nd and 3rd Person POV.

To deactivate, there will be two options present for you.

Simply ignore Jaemin for a week with no note of leave or reasoning and you will automatically be removed from the roleplay list.

Or

Ensuring that both you and Jaemin are in a stable and safe environment, tell him “I'm done with you and your sick lifestyle. I'm reporting you to the authorities.” and he will take your life, thus ending the roleplay.

Keep it mind that there is a probability of you being killed during roleplay. When that happens, admin will inquire wether or not you'd like to restart the roleplay and you'll be given the opportunity to choose a new plotline and work towards your next ending.

𝕳𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖚𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖑𝖚𝖊 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖊𝖗~

[youranxiousnerd]

Spring Break Thoughts

bc i want to get stuck in an airport and break into first class

spoilers below

EJ DOING THE INTRO

the most...profound intro?

“maybe it’s really about other people” looks at gina

i have jumped on the portwell train

when i first saw they were doing zoom backgrounds i was not on board, but they’ve grown on me carlos’ sucks

miss jenn and the zoom backgrounds

NI NI HEL LO

nini didn’t you get cut?

you know miss jenn they could get together out side of school (at least the kids who are here)

olivia is so pretty

aww carlos called miss jenn his madrina

HA I KNEW IT OF COURSE CARLOS INVITED SEB

seblos tension, ill get to that later

they’re so passive aggressive guys i love it

ASH AND EJ

CASWELL COUSINS YESSS

“You guys are watching like, old, old movies”

“This is why we’re soulmates” the redyln goal has been reached bye

this...this is the only line they get?

miss jenn has obviously not gotten the memo

three weeks and you havent blocked act two

“not it”

of course sebby is the last one to leave

“bye” awww miss jenn

GINA THAT LITTLE GIG YESSSS

just one complement after another ej

AHHHH EJ WITH PAINTED NAILS YESSSSS

he looks so good ej should do it more often

ej fell hard guys

jack in the background doing tik toks i cant

gina and signs

RICKY IN A BLANKET

ugh its lynne

i dont care enough to spell her name right

“just being a burrito here”

bitter ricky, i feel ya

“I’m sorry to hear that’s it over” *smiles*

nini you should have just posted a video

ope empty notebook

awww ej’s insta

gina and jack

thats it

“she changed her name” nina is literally her real name 

the leg pull away

ricky and bedding is my new favorite ship besides therapy

“Your boy Jack”

when i first saw the promo for this nini scene i was worried it was gonna be another solo (shes had like 16)

I SPY WITH MY LITTLE EYE A RAINBOW HEART

my gay heart is bursting

nina really said “rainbows are awesome” this episode

and the necklace is off

guys i love improv scenes

it was so goood

soooo howie and kourt just get no closure after that killer song last week? no nothing? 

BAHAHAHA KOURTNEY BREAKING UP

i love kourtney

sofia is so pretty

okay i dont ship jack and gina but they’re fun together, little chaos demons

THE DUKE SWEATSHIRT AHHHH

“my friends, like, my castmates, they think it sucks what you did on opening night”

good talk, long overdo. nothing is solved by any means but little steps

the therapy line omfg 

“HI, CUPCAKE”

“I’ll meet you in the pool” there is an ocean right behind you

 “Don’t ask me”

“Ashlyn, Big Red, Miss. Jenn, Carlos”

the way seb’s face just DROPS when he mentions carlos

“Are you guys fighting” big red looked so happy omfg

“That would imply that we’re speaking”

“Who has time to talk when you’re busy posting selfies with random guys in a cabana”

guys i had to pause for five minutes because i was dying

jealous seb... where did you come from?

ALRIGHT IT IS TIME TO TALK ABOUT SEBLOS!!!!

first off, it seems the writers love to make major seblos things happen off screen. examples include there pinning and officially getting together

where... where did all this tension come from? it has been light the past two episodes then bam, everything they say to each other is bitter. since when is seb jealous? the writers have so many other conflicts to talk about and they choose jealous seb? off all thing?!?! im honestly kind of disappointed because there are so many other things to talk about from previous episodes and instead they choose this?!?!?! hopefully this isn’t the only thing that is addressed next week, it cant be. they better talk about the constant “no seb” because its an issue. 

moral of the story is i hope the fight next episode isn’t about seb being jealous bc there is so much more to talk about

i am loving passive aggressive seb like i hope that doesn’t go away when their conflict is resolved bc it’s awesome

HERE are my thoughts on the zoom call

okay seb’s line about doing public makes sense with the full episode

everyone on the call is just like “wtf happened to my otp”

EJJJJ

EJJJJ I LOVE YOU

THE BEST EJ SCENE 

“Hi Nini!” ejjjj

you have to watch the scene twice, one to watch nini and ashlyn and another for ej

EJ AND THE PUPPET THATS IT IM DONE

sassy gina i love her

guys i just love everybody

ASHLYN AND NINI I MISSED THIS DUO GAHHHHHH THEY’RE ADORABLE

ej is a child i love it

ricky i feel you with the songwriting

look at big red being best friend of the year now give him a plot line

i am under the impression jack recorded gina 

SHIT THE CANDLE TO LAMP TRANSITION YESSSSS

i love transitions and that was it

matt is ripped

julia lester showed up this season. queen shit 

she is perfect

YES BIG RED AND KOURTNEY DANCING I WANT MOREEEE

i am so confused with seb’s gloves

that has been bugging me for two days 

carlos has more style then a hawaiian shirt and khakis

im in heaven the harmonies are soooo good

they are amazing they sound so good

you can hear all there voices

julia popped off

aint seen nothin is really good, i wasn’t sure about it at first but its grown. they sound so damn good the talent they hold. not the best song but its fun

the video actually looks better than i thought it would

“Wow” me too richard

jack is fun, i’d be okay if he comes back. he is a little chaos demon.

i like how the writers didn’t make them romantic (for once), hopefully gina got his number bc i would

i want to be stuck at an airport with jack

“let you go” is genius. so far the best original song this season. josh has been killing it lately. this is the ballad ricky deserves. lyrical genius. he sounds sooo good.

the one time i agree with lynne

EJ YOU CAMEEEEEE

OMFG THEY’RE ADORABLE

PORTWELLLLLLL BABY WHOOOP

HE IS GONNA TREAT YOU SO GOOD GINA 

HE BROUGHT YOU FOOD AND TOOK YOUR BAG 

GAHHHHHH 

nOoOoOoOo thats it?!?! i cannot wait a week i refuse

i normally don’t talk about promos but episode 10 (im a sucker for sleepover episodes) is my most anticipated episode so we gonna do it. 

for starters ricky has a guitar, so he might sing?

AWW THE SETS THEY ARE SO PRETTY

ooo lily is back?

blueprint?

ashlyn and ricky where have you been?!?!

seb and the girls yesss

since in a heartbeat is next episode seb probably leaves? i hope it is a private moment

oh please talk about your other issues pleaseee

“why did i never hear about this?” nina no, it was an accident alright?

gina and nini haven’t interacted this season and the first thing they do is fight.

lets hope there “beef” doesn’t take the a slot 

maybe another seblos kiss?

did you know i love seblos

i have stocked up my tears for next week

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #178

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re building the beach’s demon king of the sixth heaven, Oda Nobunaga (Berserker)! This extra spicy Nobu is a Swords Bard to make her axe a little more literal while still grabbing the freaking spaceship we need to build, a Four Elements Monk to grab that giant flaming skeleton, and just a bit of Fighter for high-speed guitar skills that would make Hellshake Yano weep with jealousy.

Check out her build breakdown here, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Team Tyrannical Shooting Star... again.

Race and Background

Nobu is still a Variant Human, giving her +1 Wisdom and Charisma. The Deception proficiency she gets is also super useful for your fool’s tactics, as is the Mobile feat, which gives you an extra 10′ of movement each move action, and you can escape from enemies you’ve attacked this turn without dealing with their attacks of opportunity.

She gets the Entertainer background this time though so she can rock out on the beach with proficiency in Acrobatics and Performance.

Ability Scores

Nobu’s Charisma is top notch, which isn’t surprising. She really knows how to make an entrance. After that is Dexterity, because playing a guitar is hard, but playing one with a chainsaw attached is even harder. The fact you still have both hands is tribute to your skills. Your Dexterity is next, your primary fuel for that fire is... you. A lesser servant would already be charcoal by now. Your Wisdom isn’t terrible, though that’s mostly for multiclassing. Your Strength’s a bit low, but your weapon’s damage comes from being a chainsaw more than you swinging it. Finally, dump Intelligence. You’re still Nobu, and you’re also a berserker this time around.

Class Levels

1. Fighter 1: We’re starting off as a fighter mostly for the weapon proficiencies, but the extra HP and concentration buff doesn’t hurt either. You get proficiency with Strength and Constitution saves, as well as two skills- Insight will help make you a lot smarter than you look, and Intimidation is just really easy when you have a giant flaming skeleton backup singer.

You also get a Fighting Style, so grab Superior Technique to throw out a Distracting Strike once per short rest. When you hit a target with a distracting strike, you’ll deal more damage, and the next non-you creature to target it gets advantage.

You also get a Second Wind you can use as a bonus action once per short rest for a bit of healing. This isn’t even the last healing thing you get- I don’t know why you’ve got Garden of Avalon attached to a skill, and honestly I don’t care. It’s awesome.

2. Monk 1: One thing fighter doesn’t have going for it is the ability to duke it out in a T-shirt. Monk fixes that handily with Unarmored Defense, giving you an AC based on your Dexterity and Wisdom. It’s... not a huge boost, but it’s something?

Even better, you get Martial Arts, so now you can use your dexterity instead of strength to attack with your monk weapons. A guitar/cd player/chainsaw isn’t a monk weapon yet, but at least your punches will land.

3. Monk 2: At second level, monks can use their Ki for all sorts of things on their bonus action- dash, disengage, dodge, or attack twice as a bonus action, by spending ki points! You get Monk Level ki points per short rest. You also get Unarmored Movement, making you even faster while not wearing any kind of armor.

Most importantly, you can turn your axe into a Dedicated Weapon over a long rest, turning any non-two handed or heavy weapon into a monk weapon. Battleaxes are versatile, not two-handed, so now you’ve got an axe-sized axe that you can really use. And it only took three levels!

4. Fighter 2: We’re popping back to fighter one last time for Action Surge, giving you a second action on a turn once per short rest. I don’t know what qualifies as a “sick guitar solo” in D&D, but I hope playing twice within the same six seconds counts.

5. Bard 1: Now that you’ve got your speed up, your music should be a bit more magical. First level  bards can use Bardic Inspiration as a bonus action, giving your allies a d6 to use on an attack, check, or save. You get Charisma Modifier inspiration dice to hand out per long rest. You also learn a couple Spells that will put your high Charisma to use.

Grab Vicious Mockery and Bane to throw people off their game, and Prestidigitation so you can do whatever you want to with minor magical effects. You also get Heroism and Cure Wounds for more party support, Faerie Fire for just a touch of flame right off the bat.

You also get one more skill proficiency, so grab History. You’re not an academic, but you are a historical figure.

6. Bard 2: Second level bards are Jacks of All Trades, adding half their proficiency to checks you’re not proficient with. You also get a Song of Rest, adding a d6 to healing done over short rests. We’re still a ways away from your giant flaming skeleton, but for now you can use Silent Image so it looks like you have one.

7. Bard 3: We debated a lot between making you a Swords bard or a Valor bard, but in the end the former won out so you can make your weapon your casting implement. Thanks to your new Dueling fighting style, you can play the axe one-handed just as well as you do with two hands, and you also get Blade Flourishes using your Inspiration. When you take the attack action, your movement increases by 10′, and you can spend an inspiration die to deal extra damage and get another effect. A Defensive Flourish adds the roll to your AC for a round, a Slashing Flourish deals the extra damage to nearby creatures as well, and the Mobile Flourish pushes the creature away, and you can use your reaction to follow them.

You get Expertise in Performance and Deception, doubling your proficiency bonus in those checks. You also learn the second level spell Heat Metal. Real fire? In a fire-themed character build? Wild!

8. Bard 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Dexterity for higher AC and better attacks. You can also use Minor Illusion for those times you want a fire skeleton, but you can’t waste a spell slot. If you want another second level spell, use Pyrotechnics to make, well, pyrotechnics. You can put out a small area of existing fire, and/or you can create Fireworks or Smoke from that area. The former forces a constitution save (DC 8 + Proficiency + charisma mod) on nearby creatures or they’re blinded for a round, and the latter creates a smoke cloud that creates a heavily obscured area for up to a minute.

9. Monk 3: Now that we’ve got a good lineup of music set to go, let’s finally get the skeleton. As a Four Elements monk, you’re a Disciple of the Elements, giving you two Elemental Disciplines. Elemental Attunement is mandatory, and it gives you several small effects, including the ability to create small fires as an action. More importantly, you can spend a ki point to turn your arms into Fangs of the Fire Snake, making your unarmed attacks deal fire damage for the turn, and your reach increases by 10′ for the turn. On top of that, you can spend even more ki points to deal more damage with each hit. They don’t specify the attacks are coming from a giant skeleton, but I’m pretty sure that’s an oversight.

You can also use your reaction to Deflect Missiles and reduce incoming damage from arrows. If you reduce it to zero, you can throw it back. Yeah, it’s okay. I’m still thinking about the fire skeleton though.

10. Monk 4: The ASIs are coming hard and heavy right now, so bump up your Dexterity for better armor and attacks. You also get to Slow Fall as a reaction, so jumping out a building isn’t quite as stupid an idea for you.

11. Monk 5: Fifth level monks get an Extra Attack for more punches each action. That means you’ve got two in a normal turn, three with martial arts, four with flurry of blows, and six with an Action surge. You also get to turn those punches into Stunning Strikes, forcing a constitution save on the target to avoid getting stunned for a round. That save’s based on your wisdom though, so don’t expect miracles.

12. Bard 5: Bouncing back to bard real quick makes your Bardic Inspiration stronger, turning all those dice into d8s. That buffs your flourish power, and your party support. As a bonus, you become a Font of Inspiration, so those dice recharge on short rests too!

Really this is just a banner level for you, since with third level spells you can also grab Major Image to create a really big skeleton that actually feels hot!

13. Bard 6: Sixth level bards get pretty much nothing, ‘cause your extra attack doesn’t stack. You also get a Countercharm, I guess. Spend your action to give advantage to allies dealing with Fear and Charm effects.

If you want to do that and still be useful, spend a minute to give your allies a Motivational Speech -er, concert- to give them temporary HP and advantage on wisdom saves. If they’re hit by an attack, they also get advantage on their next attack too. The spell ends for everyone after an hour, or for a creature after their temporary HP is destroyed.

14. Bard 7: Seventh level bards get fourth level spells, like Hallucinatory Terrain. I know nobuserker won’t get the ability to set fields on fire for a while, but futureproofing is a good habit to get into.

15. Monk 6: Hopping back over to monk real quick for some Ki-Empowered Strikes, making your fists magical for overcoming resistance. You also get one more Elemental Discipline, and Sweeping Cinder Strike gives you Burning Hands for the low low cost of 2 ki points per cast. You can also spend an extra ki point to upcharge it, but honestly that’s more trouble than it’s worth.

16. Bard 8: Another ASI! Use this one to power up your Charisma for stronger heals, stronger spells, and more inspiration. You can also cast Phantasmal Killer so Skelly can go kill people on his own.

17. Bard 9: Your Song of Rest grows to a d8 as well, for sicker riffs while you’re jamming. You can also Animate Objects, so now you can really put the “chain” back in your chainsaw and go scooting around.

18. Bard 10: Your Bardic Inspiration grows one last time to a d10, and you get Magical Secrets, two spells from any class. (You also get a cantrip, so.. True Strike, why not.)

You also learn the spell Find Greater Steed so you can ride in style in your own customizable rocket. I’d recommend a Griffon, but anything with a flying speed is good. You also get Haste to make that griffon more rocket-y, doubling a target creature’s speed, giving it an extra action, advantage on dex saves and checks, and it’s AC goes up by 2. You’ll have to let the engines cool afterwards though, it’ll have to take a turn off once the spell ends. Also, make sure you keep that thing low to the ground, unless you want to get pancaked by Ishtar.

Also, more Expertise. Perfect your atsumori with Acrobatics and your cool poses with Intimidation.

19. Monk 7: It took a while to get here, but you finally get Evasion! Now your dexterity saves are super good, with failures only dealing half damage and successes avoiding all damage! You also get a Stillness of Mind that lets you end charming and frightening effects on yourself. Madness enhancement is one hell of a drug.

20. Monk 8: Your capstone level is one last ASI, and if you made it this far you deserve a pat on the back. And also the Tough feat for 40 extra HP.

Pros:

With support from your fighting techniques and bard spells plus damage from your monk stuff, you’ve got a lot of variety, so you can fill out any niche your party doesn’t have covered.

Being a mobile monk means you’re fast as hell and hard to retaliate against, making you perfect at hit and run tactics. Use that action surge for a burst of activity, then run off before anyone knows what happened.

Despite being a berserker you have a lot of support options and can fit a lot of roles, from preventing status effects with countercharm & motivational speech to healing with cure wounds to weakening enemies with vicious mockery, bane, and distracting strikes.

Cons:

A less generous person might say this build is too Cluttered. You’ve got inspiration and martial arts fighting for your bonus action, and while you can do many things, there are more dedicated builds that do them better.

This is in part due to limited resources for your best abilities, mostly tied to short rests. With limited action surges, distracting strikes, flourishes, and fire snake fangs, you’ve got a short fuse, and it’ll take work to make sure you don’t burn out before the fighting’s over.

Your ability scores are similarly spread out in all directions, with your wisdom being the big loser. This means that if you can’t outrun someone you’ll be an easy target with an AC of only 15, and your monk abilities like Sweeping Cinder Strike and Stunning Strike aren’t nearly as useful as they should be.

[lostinthosebrowneyes]

Pedro Character HCs | The Boys as D&D (5e) Classes

Dave York

Rogue. Dave is a soldier who specializes in the silent kill. He knows all about a life of murky morality and thrives in the darkness with his expertise in stealth. But get him up close and away from his teammates and their flanking advantage and it’s game over for him. He’s the classic high risk, high reward class with melee and range versatility, specifically the Assassin archetype who makes the most of drawing his weapon first.

Din Djarin

Fighter. Nobody beats the humble Fighter in terms of battle versatility. Din is more than a mercenary, he’s a true warrior. An expert in all manner of weapons, just put something that kills in his hands and he’ll make it sing. The Fighter is the workhorse of any D&D campaign, a classic and always welcome addition, he does his job with maximum efficiency be it solo or as part of a team. He has no need for fancy spells or gimmicks, his job is to take the pain and dish it out in equal measure. He will outlast all of the showy casters and niche glass cannons on the battlefield, taking his Second Wind while they’re making death saving throws. Din would probably also have the Sentinel feat because he particularly shines as a protector and is a selfless member of any party, ready to take up the slack and have your back when you need him. This is the way.

Ezra

Bard. Ezra is a talker. In a sticky situation? Try to talk your way out of it. Looking for information? Say just the right words to try and get what you need. Whether he’s good at it is debatable and he’s rolled a lot of Nat 1s in his life, but Ezra has the spirit of a Bard inside him. He’s a lateral thinker, lives by the philosophy of taking the unspoken third option and he seems like the type of person who invests in obscure lore. In the Green there is no magic to save you, only hard work. But could you imagine Ezra’s sheer power if he could speak cutting words that actually physically killed people? He would be unstoppable.

Frankie Morales

Ranger. Whether it’s up in the sky, armed with a rifle or just socializing with friends, Frankie seems to like to navigate his way around danger and keep it at arms’ length rather than face it head on. He’s found his way through quite a few wild and dangerous terrains through his career in the military, from jungles to deserts, and surely knows a thing or two about roughing it. He’s quiet, thoughtful and down-to-earth, and he seems to make his biggest mistakes when he’s around other people. Peer pressure can’t hurt you when you’re in the wilds on your own, I’m just saying.

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels

Blood Hunter. I’m going to be blunt, Blood Hunters are zealots who pick a particular type of target and hunt them to the ends of the earth. Jack clearly has an issue with black-and-white thinking and can’t let go of a good (or even a really stupid) vendetta. Particularly, Jack would be Order of the Profane Soul, because he would clearly sell his soul to the devil to wipe his enemy from the face of the earth. Blood Hunter also fits Agent Whiskey’s fighting style as they are generally Dex-based (aka, agile) fighters who sacrifice their own health to do intense amounts of damage; the riskiest daredevils of all D&D classes. Jack Daniels is a bloodhound, when he’s got his target’s scent he will finish the job or die trying.

Javier Peña

Paladin. Here we have the somewhat nobler take on the black-and-white morality man on a mission. Javier is a Paladin all the way. On a good day, Javi would be Oath of Devotion, the most romanticized version of his ideals and goals. But most of his days are bad days, so Javi chooses the Oath of Vengeance; committed to seeing evil pay no matter the cost, making restitution for the things he must do in their pursuit only after he’s taken his foes down by any means necessary. Javier has a bit of a white knight complex at times, an overdeveloped sense of justice that just doesn’t jive with how the real world works. Sometimes he realizes that, but other times it eats him up inside. As a Paladin he would have a host of spells and tricks under his belt specifically to help him root out his elusive targets, echoing the arsenal of espionage tactics he has access to in the show.

Marcus Moreno

Paladin/Sorcerer Multiclass. I couldn’t pick between the two for Marcus M, luckily these two produce a very strong multiclass! Marcus is the product of strong bloodlines like a Sorcerer and his magnetic talent is an innate part of him just as a Sorcerer’s magic is. However, this power is not his strongest asset. His leadership abilities and protective instincts are what make him who he is more than superpowers and that’s his Paladin side coming through. Marcus Moreno is the quintessential hero and a high Charisma type, but in the unassuming way that he’s just a nice dude who people naturally like... unless you’re Miracle Guy, I guess.

Marcus Pike

Rogue. Oh man, Marcus Pike was the hardest to pick of all. He’s in a law-oriented job but is impulsive and intuitive. He has combat training but he is not aggressive. He’s passionate but not over-emotional. He has a love for the arts but no desperation for the limelight. Eventually I settled on a specific Archetype: The Rogue Inquisitive. A detective flavor of the Rogue, the Inquisitive is more reliant on Wisdom than his sneakier brethren. His skills are in honing in on the truth, both of his situation and the hearts of those around him. He’s insightful, steady and trusts his gut for good or ill. The Rogue is more than a criminal or a killer, the Rogue is also the classic jack of all trades. Marcus as a Rogue is someone who loves sampling many different interests and avenues, surprising people with his versatility of talents. He’s always up for a new challenge and adventure, he’s always got an arrow in his quiver you didn’t know about. And yes, sometimes he’s a bit low-key, but you really want that in a Rogue.

Maxwell Lord

Warlock. Maxwell is the perfect Warlock cocktail of willing to make a deal and too arrogant to realize it’s a bad one. Warlocks are greedy for power, too ready to take shortcuts and often needy for attention, even if it’s the wrong kind of attention. His short rest spell slots make his magic a quick fix for sticky situations but just as quickly depleted. Maxwell is willing to get his head in way too deep in order to get what he wants and what he wants is always just out of reach, but that taste of power from his patron is enough to keep him going.

Oberyn Martell

Monk. I know what you’re thinking: “What?? The hottest man in Westeros, known hedonist Oberyn Martell as anything but a Charisma-based class???” Well here’s the thing, Oberyn is a lover and a fighter, and nobody does what he does better than a Monk. Peak physical condition, baby. Those acrobatic moves? Dexterity-leaning Monk class has it covered. Oberyn is a clever man and he uses the science of poisons to get to his enemy’s weak points. Similarly, the Wisdom-based Monk uses a blend of magic and science to exploit pressure points and Stunning Strike their enemies into submission. They are experts of the human body, what more need I say? At higher levels they literally have a class feature to stay fit and sexy for the rest of their lives. Add onto that, the Monastic Tradition Way of the Sun Soul uses explosive bursts of fire and light against their enemies in a way that’s pretty thematic for the Prince of Dorne and his fiery personality.

[yellowocaballero]

hi i know it's been the hottest of seconds but director's cut for the prophetic spring if you're still doing these? 👀

Sure! I’ve spoken a lot about the prophetic spring, but I’m fairly certain I could give some meta information about my intense life-long obsession with Tim Drake. Dude has been showing up in my fics since I was 14.

But actually, the ficlet I wrote ages ago might be more interesting? So here it is. Exploring a dynamic that was WAY underserved for how important it is: the Steph, Cass, Tim dynamic!

No CW that haven’t appeared in the prophetic spring, but specific mention for drug addiction and drug depiction, as well as references to molestation, abortion, torture, and suicide. Story under the cut. 

Tim stared down into the toilet bowl. It was a little yellowed. He needed to clean it. 

He stared at the small baggie of pills in his hand. 

He visualized dropping it into the bowl, flushing it. Possibly mutating an alligator, or giving the race of mole people that lived in the Gotham sewers a nice surprise. 

Tim sighed, and pocketed the drugs. Maybe tomorrow. 

**

A month after the incident with a runaway foster kid and a, in retrospect, kind of embarrassing fake fight with his older brother, Tim got a text from an unknown number. To make matters worse, it was at an insane hour of the day - noon. 

Texts from strangers were hardly uncommon. Tim had an extensive contact network, growing larger by the day, but he had set up a Google Voice on his computer so they were all routed through a program there. Being bothered at all hours of the day on his phone was hardly his idea of a good time. The only people who really had his real number were his bullshit ‘friends’ and his asshole ‘family’. He hadn’t even given his number to his ‘friends’ - he had given it to Kon under strict confidentiality, and then Kon had given it to all of Young Justice. Asshole. 

405-555-1998: dropping by in three hours so make sure ur presentable :)

As Tim had just woken up, most of his brain was occupied by a single whuh? 

Just as his mind swirled in sleepy confusion, his phone buzzed again.

405-555-1998: B1706XQE45

The code checked out. It was an ally, not an unknown or an enemy. 

Tim groaned, covering his eyes with an elbow. He needed coffee.

****

The coffee was a new thing - rather, it was something he had drunk plenty of growing up, because there had been nobody around to inform him that coffee was bad for developing brains. Growing up completely unsupervised was probably why Tim was a drug addict now. He could totally blame this on his parents never loving him. 

Not a drug addict, Tim thought to himself anxiously as the coffee sputtered into the extra large gallon pot. Just someone who...uses drugs...in an unhealthy way. Substance abu - substance user, who just used it maybe as a bad coping mechanism. Not that Tim had good coping mechanisms, but it was better than sawing off heads or becoming a drug lord. When you thought about it, it was either being a serial killer or doing drugs, so logically it means that he should do more drugs to decrease the amount of fun little murders he does -

Tim made toast.

The coffee was a new thing, because he was trying to use it to replace the drugs. He had cut back. The stupid little sorority that called themselves the Birds of Prey had been talking to him about it. He had agreed to try. It was best to set expectations low, so he couldn’t disappoint. Actually, Tim loved disappointing, maybe he should set them higher. Maybe he could make inspirational speeches about how he was a good guy now? Ha ha. 

The three hours had been a deft move. The texter knew noon was his average wake-up time at best, and the three hours gave him enough time to sober up if he had been high or drunk at the time. Tim didn’t like to start popping the minute he woke up, but - well, sometimes he did. Or sometimes he was awake at noon because he had been on an all-nighter drug binge. They hadn’t given their name, either, which meant that it was somebody who he wouldn’t want to see. 

He could bounce, escape to some corner of Gotham until they gave up. Except he had the sense that whoever had gone through the effort to get his number wasn’t the type to give up. Almost nobody Tim knew was the type to give up. His ‘friends’ and his ‘family’ never gave up. On anybody but him. 

A voice in his head, not quite yet suffocated, sounding altogether too much like the Replacement, echoed in endless attempts to get him to come back. Oh, whatever. Kid was a try-hard. He needed better taste in made up families. 

Over the next three hours, he debated his tactics. If he wasn’t escaping and the texter was playing the buddy card, then the situation probably wasn’t dangerous. He strapped in his armor under the baggy pyjamas that he never took off anyway, and spitefully made no effort to control his hair. He did put on make-up, an old hand from keeping CPS off Bruce’s trail - man, he should have pretended Bruce was molesting him, that would have been funny as fuck - to hide the bags under his eyes. No use looking pathetic. 

He hid a few more weapons around his apartment. He anxiously checked his phone, staring not at the new texts but at Harley’s offer sent a week ago. He still hadn’t replied. He didn’t know what to do with it. 

As if he could ever feel safe sleeping under the same roof as her?

As if he ever felt safe anywhere?

Maybe he had nothing to lose. That was the greatest part about this, the most wonderful aspect of what he had done to everybody in his life. When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose. That’s freedom, or so Janis had always told him. She knew what she was about. Overdosing on heroin at 27 - that was understanding what it meant, to have nothing. To be free.  He was almost jealous. 

At two on the dot, a polite knock echoed through the apartment. Tim looked up from where he was relaxing on the couch, with all of the possible entry points in his line of sight. That wasn’t a knock he had memorized, and he had memorized everyone’s knocks. 

Nothing for it. He’d have to get rid of them as quickly as possible. Maybe he can pull the insane sociopath schtick again; that had always been effective in ditching his parents. Tim sighed, walked over to the door, swiped his thumb against the keypad, undid the three deadbolts, and opened door only to see - 

Stephanie Brown, hands propped on her hips and smiling widely. Cassandra Wayne, standing right behind her, serene as ever. 

Tim closed the door - or he tried. Steph had expected the move, and the minute he had opened the door her foot had jutted out and blocked him from closing the door. Effortlessly, she wrenched it back open and stepped into his apartment, forcing him to press against the wall and scowl as insane women infiltrated his space. 

“Wow,” Steph said loudly, “this place looks like a wreck!”

Tim groaned. 

***

The thing with Steph and Cass was this:

How to describe it?

The sister he had never expected, the best friend he had never thought he would have. Cass was his twin, Robin’s shadow, the other side of his mountain. Bruce had adopted Cass barely five months after he became Robin, and Tim had unabashedly resented her for stealing Bruce’s attention so quickly. He had always liked her more, but Bruce had liked everyone more than Tim, so maybe it was no surprise. She was sweet, kind, gentle, and no trouble. Tim wasn’t any trouble either, but he couldn’t be the rest of it if it bit him in his ass. 

Robin was the brain. Cass was the muscle. They were a team so closely linked, conjoined at the hip, that Tim couldn’t remember a patrol ever done without her. Bruce had let them start patrolling alone at fourteen (“You didn’t let me work alone until I was fifteen, and I was an assassin,” Damian had spat), and they had been an unbeatable team. Robin’s hand-to-hand was weak, but nobody ever got through Batgirl. Batgirl struggled with technical knowledge, reading and writing and investigating and chasing down leads, the only area where Tim had ever excelled. Together, they had almost been as good as Batman. Sometimes, Tim had let himself think that they might be better.

They had been so similar. Everyone had always said so. They’re both so quiet, the Justice League had said. Emotionless little freaks, the Rogues had said. Neither of them blink, their schoolmates had said. But there had been nothing to say, not between them: they could have a conversation without words, without even Sign. Cass had known every twitch of Tim’s body, had understood him down to his core. Nobody else ever had. Everybody had always called Tim inscrutable and impossible to understand - but to Cass, Tim had been an open book. She knew every inch of him. And she had loved him anyway. 

And Steph! When Steph had found them when they were fourteen veering on fifteen, and from then on it was as if she had always been there. She was so big, so smiling, so much, and she had never apologized for any of it. Nothing scared her. To Tim, that was the perfect vigilante - somebody who was scared of nothing, who never hesitated, who was good. 

Not even Bruce could intimidate her. When Tim was fourteen, he had thought that was the most amazing thing in the world. Bruce intimidated everyone, but Steph had just stuck out her tongue and kept badly backflipping off roofs anyway. Through twin convincing, Tim and Cass had convinced Bruce to give her a chance, and Spoiler had slot into their dynamic perfectly. She was their best friend, always. 

She wasn’t good at hand-to-hand at first, but Tim had improved by then, and they could cover her. She improved faster than he had, and judging from the reconnaissance footage Tim had frantically consumed after he came back to life, she was amazing now. She was wickedly smart, practical and down to Earth. If Tim was better at hacking into a computer, Steph was the one who found the post-it note with the password stuck under the desk. 

But more than any of that, she had brought the social skills. She had brought the calming presence, the sweet hand to victims and civilians, and her good humor was infectious. Steph was good with people. She was a born leader. Resilient. Brave. Everybody liked her. Everybody loved her. Tim had. She had loved him too. She could have done so much better than Tim and Cass, weird little societal rejects, but she had chosen them as her family. 

It had been the three of them. For as long as Tim’s life had meaning, for as long as he had been loved, they had loved him. Tim had grown up alone, in a world of one, and they had infiltrated it. They had expanded it, and they dragged his life into more than just Tim. Into Tim-and-Cass-and-Steph. Into Robin-Batgirl-Spoiler. Into meaning, and love. 

Tim hated them. And he wanted them to suffer. 

“That’s the Stephanie Brown I remember,” Tim sneered, closing the door behind him. Steph had quickly thrown herself onto Tim’s couch, clearly somewhat surprised at how comfortable it was, and Cass had  perched daintily on the arm. Cass had always refused to sit like a normal person - she would rather sit on the backs of sofas, or on the arm, or perched on chairs like a bird - “If I had known you were coming I would have jumped cities.”

“We would have chased you down and you know that,” Steph said cheerfully, like she said fucking everything. “Besides, if you had known we were coming you would have gone into witness protection. You’ve been avoiding the fuck outta us.”

“Wonder why,” Tim said, injecting as much mean-spirited sarcasm into his voice as possible. “I need more coffee, don’t go through my shit.”

The apartment was small, and the kitchen had a cut-away wall where he could see through into the living room. Stephanie hated nothing more than being ignored or looked down upon, and if he dismissed her and didn’t react then she’d grow infuriated with him and leave. He couldn’t fight with her, because if it came down to a battle of rhetoric or emotions she’d win single-handedly. She was so good with words. Cass...had no weaknesses. 

Which was inconvenient, because it was Cass he absolutely had to get rid of as soon as possible. She was very emotional, and more than a little sensitive. Especially to rejection. If he was cruel enough to her, she’d start crying and leave. There was only one problem with that. 

As he jammed more grounds into the machine he watched the girls out of the corner of his eye. They weren’t talking or whispering to each other, both fully aware of how well Tim could read lips. They weren’t even having one of those body language conversations they could only have with each other, aware that Tim could crack that too. Instead Stephanie was casually sprawled on his couch, looking for all the world like a middle aged dad watching the football game, looking around the room. Cass, as usual, was zoning out. Or, of course, looked like she was zoning out - Tim could tell that she was waiting for something to happen, and was preparing herself for it. 

Shit. Tim fought the urge to gnaw on his fingernail. Cass was going to be a problem. 

He risked another glance backwards. She could see him, so she knew. Fuck. He had never been on the other side of her mind reading. It was fucking inconvenient. Psychics should be shot on sight. 

The coffee sloshed into the biggest cup he could find in his kitchen, and Tim began draining it immediately as he leaned over the cutaway. He kept the cup held up to his face, obscuring it. Face covered, everything under the elbows covered - best he could do without preparation. 

“This little field trip sanctified by Sgt. Brother?” Tim asked, sipping the scalding hot coffee. Not hot enough. He needed - he needed - they’d see -

“We’re nineteen, we don’t need his permission for everything we do,” Steph said, amused. So she was going to speak for Cass - hardly unusual, as whenever they were all together Steph tended to be the only one who spoke - but seeing as Tim was Tim then it was definitely a strategy. 

“He lets his precious baby sisters knock on the door of drug lords for fun?” Tim sneered. 

“If they’re incompetent and retired, sure!”

Tim gritted his teeth. Don’t rise to her bait. Don’t. She was the best person in the family at getting a rise out of their enemies. He didn’t stand a chance. 

“What do you want?”

“We thought we’d take you roller skating at the rink,” Steph chirped. 

Tim stared at her. 

“Or the pool,” Steph said, faux-thoughtfully. “Or just the mall?”

Fuck this. Tim headed for the door, ready to walk out of the building barefoot in his pyjamas. He tugged at the doorknob, only to find that it wouldn’t open. 

Tim breathed in through his nose, then out through his mouth. There were other exits. He was not trapped. Had his apartment always been so small? He could have sworn that it was bigger. 

He turned around slowly. Stephanie was grinning at him, twirling what looked like a small plastic cylinder. Tim recognized it instantly - fancy League tech. Overrides all electronic locks and controls them. They all used it to trap perps and heighten their fear tactics. Tim jammed his thumb on the keypad. Nothing happened. 

Cass glanced at Steph, and made a small motion. Tim couldn’t interpret it. Why couldn’t he interpret it? Did they have a new code? It was Cass. When nobody else had understood her, Tim always had. Now they had their own language, one that Tim couldn’t interpret anymore. Tim was lost in translation, always drifting. 

“We aren’t bringing you in,” Steph said, just as light as ever. No trace of pity or caution or gentleness in her voice: just relentless cheer. “Literally all we want to do is talk. Play a board game, maybe?”

 Tim’s eyes flickered to the hidden panel in the wall next to him where he had stashed a gun and a sword. 

“Bro,” Steph said, “you really don’t want to escalate this.”

“Do you think you can take me?” Tim asked curiously, letting his hand drift to his arm. He shook his long pyjama sleeve down to cover his wrist. “That’s pretty cute. Last time I checked, you’re the shittiest at hand-to-hand in your team.”

But Steph just rolled her eyes. Shit, wasn’t he supposed to be ignoring her? He couldn’t, not so long as she kept pushing and pushing. Not so long as she was in his house. “Leave off. Just because Jay and I are the last people in the fam who weren’t trained in Mystical Ninja Arts doesn’t mean I’m incompetent. Hands in the air, by the way.”

Stephanie was overly sentimental. New tactic. He raised his hands slightly in the air, caught reaching for the weapon hidden in his armor. “Incompetent enough to let me die.”

There. Finally. Thank god, Tim thought he was losing his touch. The muscles clenched in Stephanie’s jaw, and just a twitch of her eye - banishing a bad memory. “Everybody’s been saying you’ve turned rude. I guess you’ve just been avoiding us because you don’t want to hurt our feelings, right?”

“I didn’t remember a lot when I was first resurrected,” Tim said casually, despite the fact that he had never told anybody about the first awful six months. Something about Steph and Cass just pried it out of him, like invasive surgery. Or an autopsy. “I remember everything about those six months, though. Homeless. Practically retarded. Brain damage does that to you, you know. I lived on the streets, did you know that? It was a miracle I lived through it.” He gasped, as if he was remembering something. “I slept on 34th street! You lived near there, didn’t you? Maybe you even walked by me.”

Steph went white. Cass’ expression froze. He was pushing hard, but these two wouldn’t react to anything less. Steph could trade barbs better than he could, even now. 

“It’s a good thing Talia found me,” Tim continued. “She was the only one who cared.”

That did it. Steph tensed, leaning forward, and even Cass stiffened. “Is that what she told you? How can you believe her?”

Tim just shrugged, walking back to the kitchen and hiding his body language again. He took an extra loud slurp of the coffee, just to be annoying. “Talia never lied to me. She said that nobody cared enough to save me. And guess what!”

Steph’s jaw clenched again. She was a hot head. A fierce temper, an impulsive girl who jumped in feet first and sanity second. Woman, now. When had that happened? “Cut that shit out. We all know what you’re doing. You’ve been doing it to everyone. Did you think Connor didn’t warn us?”

Snitch. Tim slurped his coffee again. “Connor’s been telling everyone to give me space.”

“Yeah, everyone but us.” She stood up now, ignoring the flicker of a frown on Cass’ face, and folded her arms. A challenge against the world. Against Tim. It didn’t matter. “You don’t believe half the shit you’re spewing. You’ve never believed your own bullshit, Tim. You’re just saying it to drive everybody away. It’s not going to work on us.”

“Why?” Tim asked innocently. “You’re too thick?”

“Because we love you!” Steph cried. Tim rolled his eyes. As if he hadn’t heard that one before. “Saving Richie proved it, you aren’t as insane as you keep pretending you are. You know what you’re doing is wrong, you just don’t care.”

“Wow, you caught me.” Tim took another long swig of his coffee. It was making his hands jittery. Good. “Local genius aware of his actions. Call the press. Call Uncle Clark, he needs a scoop.” He arched an eyebrow at Steph. She hated that expression of his - she had always found it so aristocratic and pretentious. Joke’s on her, he was pretentious. “Do you mind if I go do a line? I’m not high enough for this conversation.”

If she had told him who she was, he would have done a line anyway just to spite her, and she knew it. “You don’t want to try,” Steph said stubbornly, “but you’re trying. You don’t want to care, but you care. You don’t want to feel it, but it hurts so much you can’t bear it. You can’t get anything past us, Tim. It’s always just been us. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Doesn’t that mean -

“What that means,” Tim said, and he found the words scraping his throat. He found himself talking a little louder than he meant to. The coffee, you know. Made you jittery. “is that you should have saved me. If you loved me so fucking much, you would have been anything other than useless. You’ve always been the most useless girl in the world, Steph. You couldn’t save your crook of a dad or your junkie of a mom. You couldn’t save your baby and you couldn’t save me. You’re ghetto trash putting on airs, and everyone can smell it on you.”

As soon as he said it, he tensed. He shifted his stance, ready to throw the coffee and spill the scalding liquid on her. Obscure her vision. It would take a second for her to vault the cover, so he could duck down. From there he could get the gun, shoot the window, jump out the window. She couldn’t win. Tim had the most powerful weapon in the world in his disposal and that was his infinite, burning hate. His hate for Steph and Cass burned him to the ground, and his world with it, and he was going to burn them to cinders because he couldn’t do anything else. 

But Steph didn’t move. Cass got off the sofa. She walked up to Steph, and gently pressed a hand on her shoulder. She squeezed. Steph exhaled, long and shaking, and nodded at Cass. She walked into Tim’s bedroom - hey! - and shut the door. 

Then Cass stared at Tim, and there was no more need for words. Not between them. 

Tim vaulted the cut away wall, aiming for her feet first. Cass didn’t dodge - that would imply that she moved like an object moved. She moved like water moved - swift and supple, with such infinite grace and precision that it was like she wasn’t human at all. 

But he had gotten better. He didn’t spend two and half years trained by the League of Assassins in crochet. Tim lashed out with a foot, she dodged again. He threw a punch, she moved. He feinted, clearly leaving her an opening, and she didn’t take it. 

Bitch. 

Cass shoved away his coffee table, sending it skidding across the floor and opening the floor space. The rug became their arena, tight and intimate, no room for maneuverability. Tim acted and she reacted, Tim lashed out a sweep kick and she jumped over it, Tim tried to grapple and she broke his hold. She never threw him to the ground, never pinned him. She just moved. 

She was good, but not good enough to toy with him and win completely. The way to win against Cass was to leverage your height - Tim was taller than he once was, although that wasn’t saying much - weight, and strength against her. A couple good hits and she was down. 

The issue, of course, was hitting her. 

He got a hit in. It was much easier when she wasn’t even fighting back. She rolled with it effortlessly, taking the impact to gain a little space between them. She breathed deeply, sweat rolling down her neck. Tim used to take a cold compress and press it to that neck. She used to smile at him. Thank you. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass said. 

“Too bad,” Tim said. 

Fights weren’t like in television, long and choreographed extended scenes to entertain and thrill. When Ro - Tim was in a fight, a real fight, it was typically finished in less than a minute. The only way that a match can get long is if the other person was deliberately tiring you out - a risky strategy - or if you were of completely equal strengths with similar fighting styles. Or if it was a spar. 

As Tim tried to hit her again and again, he realized that it was a spar. 

No, not even that. It was a conversation. 

Tim grabbed her wrist, and said: I want you to hurt. Cass broke the hold, telling him that he can’t. Tim leveraged the motion and kneed her in the back, telling her that the only goal of this fight was pain. Cass let the impact take her down to the mat, an incredibly disadvantageous position, but rolled out of the way just as Tim tried to exploit the opportunity. I’m not scared of you. Tim hit again, and again, and again, failing every time. I want you gone, Tim said, and this is the only way I know how to do it. 

This is what Tim said: as much as I once loved you, I now hate you. The infinite depths of my love, my twin sister, how we moved in perfect sync. I hate it all. As much as I cared, I now hate. Feel this hate. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass said. 

They moved in perfect sync, even now. Cass couldn’t predict his movements before he made them, like she used to - his training was different now, developed and refined. But Cass knew the League of Assassins too, had been trained by them just as he had, and they were written into her bones when they were only carved into Tim’s. After his third patented Talia move, she adjusted to fit his style, and their fight metamorphosed into more of a dance. Like they used to. 

“Why not!” Tim screamed, the stupidest possible thing to do in a fight, but Cass didn’t take advantage of his exhale. He lashed out a fist to cover the opening, but it was lazy and over-extended, and she dodged easily. “I’m going to kill you!”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Tim desperately tried to call the green to his vision. It was so easy. All he had to do was tap into that rage. Talia had called it blood lust. Said it was normal, even good. But it wouldn’t come. Where was it? It was his only friend. 

Desperately, Tim went in for another punch to the face - Cass’ jaw was the weakest part of her body, an old injury - but he over-extended again, and this time Cass took the opportunity. She grabbed his arm and pulled him forward, dropping him to the mat. She didn’t try to twist him around, instead landing him on his back. Bad move for her. 

She kneed him in the chest, putting her full hundred and thirty pounds on him. She twisted his hands behind his back, pinning him, and Tim could do barely more than wheeze. 

He looked at her in the eyes for the first time. They were infuriatingly calm. Her hair was tangled and clumped with sweat, but she wasn’t breathing hard. Her expression was placid and serene, as if she was watching one of her stupid fucking nature documentaries instead of pinning her brother to a hard and scratchy rug in a shithole apartment, three years after he was tortured to insanity and shot himself in the head. 

So much time had passed. So much had happened, nasty and festering and putrid, and Tim had let it happen. He had made it happen. There was a rot in Tim, and it had eaten him up until there was nothing inside. If you cut him open, would it spill out? Would it infect her, infect Steph? Could he make them suffer?

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Cass repeated. “So don’t be scared.”

“Scared?! I’m not fucking -” Tim wheezed, cut off by the lack of air as Cass pressed down. 

“I’m sorry you’re scared. I didn’t mean to leave you alone. But I did. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to kill -”

Cass pressed down on his chest again, cutting him off. She had finally done the one thing nobody in Tim’s life had ever figured out: how to make him shut up. “You can be as mean to me as you want. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll stay.”

Tim wheezed. In that, maybe, Cass heard something, because she continued as if he had spoken. Or maybe she just wanted the chance to talk. It had been stolen from her for thirteen years, and it was valuable to her. 

“You do not have to be kind. You do not have to hug me, even if I want you to. You do not have to be my brother. I know it hurts too much. But you are me. I am you. You do not even have to try for that. I do not have to give it to you. You have it.”

Tim couldn’t help it. He cried a little, and then he couldn’t stop. 

Cass got off him, but she kept her promise. She didn’t hug him. She just propped him up against the sofa, holding his hand, and didn’t speak. At some point the door creaked, and he felt Stephanie next to him. 

This is why, Tim thought hysterically, he had been avoiding them.

He knew this would happen. There was no hiding from Cass. There was no posturing, no pretending. She didn’t want anything from him. She never had. There was nothing he could say that would drive her away, because Cass did not listen to the words people spoke. She spoke only for clarity, when she could not afford for her words to be misconstrued, and for the comfort of others. 

Cass knew that he had been lying out of his ass. Cass knew that he wasn’t as insane as he pretended, as cruel as he wanted to be. 

He couldn’t make Cass hate him. Shit. 

None of them said anything. Nothing needed to be said, not between the three of them. Cass might be having a silent conversation in Sign with Steph, but he didn’t care enough to open his eyes and look. When they had first met, it used to make Steph so mad that Tim and Cass were having ‘secret conversations’. She had poured over her dictionaries, learning as quickly as physically possible so she could keep up. Everything Steph had, she had worked hard for. 

Steph was in college now. Premed. She wanted to be an ER doctor. Steph wasn’t a genius, she had to study hard. She wouldn’t be able to superhero in med school, so she was ready to hang up her cape for a few years until she achieved her dream. Steph said that she could do just as much good as a doctor as a superhero. She hadn’t always wanted it. When they were kids and Bruce used to ask her what she wanted to do when she grew up, in his awkward faux-dad way, she had always shrugged and said that she might be a nurse. 

“Why not med school?” Bruce had suggested, between sleepy spoonfuls of oatmeal. She used to spend more nights at their place than at her own. Her mom hadn’t noticed. 

Steph had just shrugged awkwardly, nibbling her whole-wheat organic toast that she would stare at suspiciously. Rich people, she would say, sighing. “I would never be able to afford it. And no way I’m smart enough.”

“You’re good enough,” Bruce said, which was the closest he ever came to praising somebody. “I’ll pay for it.”

Steph had gaped. Cass had eaten her Lucky Charms smugly. Tim had rolled his eyes. “An in-the-know doctor for the vigilante community would be invaluable,” he had informed her, pretentious and callous. “We could use you.”

“You deserve it,” Cass had signed. 

“You have a bright future, Stephanie,” Bruce said, buckling under the panic of being a responsible adult. “I would hate to see you waste it.”

He would hate to see any of them waste their future. He had hated to see what Tim had become. He knew that. The last time he had ever seen Bruce, it was just to disappoint him. Bruce was the only parent he had ever had, and his standards were so sky high it was impossible to do anything other than disappoint. 

The fact of the matter was this: he loved Cass and Steph more than he loved Bruce. He could hate Bruce. He could hate himself. But Cass and Steph…

Bruce had ear-marked a lot of money for Steph, both for whatever continuing education she chose and for her future. It had raised a lot of questions among the lawyer team, but ultimately she had been written off as another of his strays. Tim had left her a lot of money too. There probably wasn’t any point: when she married Cass she’d have equal access to the fortune. Rich people, Stephanie used to whisper in awe, looking at organic toast. 

Cass was majoring in dance. She wanted to be a ballerina. 

Tim’s future...Tim’s future…

“Or we can watch a nature documentary,” Steph said out loud. “If we all promise not to say a fucking word.”

Incredibly, unmistakably, irrevocably, Tim groaned. “Not the fucking bee one again.”

“I like the bees,” Cass said serenely. 

“If you aren’t going to get out of my house can I at least smoke up?” Tim asked miserably. 

“I brought gummy bears,” Steph said, chipper as ever, “which are way better.”

“I’m going to the fucking bathroom,” Tim grumbled, which everybody knew was as good as a yes. 

“If you take anything I’ll know,” Cass said serenely, and also threatened. 

“Fuck you, bitch.”

Steph and Cass high-fived, and Tim sulked angrily to the bathroom. He took a second to look at himself in the mirror - looking for Tim Drake, failing, as always - before opening it and grabbing his baggie of pills. 

He looked at it. He looked at the toilet. He looked at the baggie. 

He didn’t flush them. He put them back in the medicine cabinet. Tomorrow. He’ll do them tomorrow. Not today. He can hold out for 24 hours. It’ll be fine. 

For a wild, stupid, insane second, Tim wondered if he could say that tomorrow too. If tomorrow he would look at them and say: maybe tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that…

If there was a future, for a fuck-up like him. 

The faint strains of Cass’ stupid fucking bee documentary began playing through the thin walls of his shitty little apartment, and Tim turned out the lights of his bathroom and closed the door, locking it securely behind him. 

[ad1thi]

2020 fic recs!! [Part 1]

this idea was stolen from @iam93percentstardust cuz i just,,,thought that this year was absolute shit and it would be nice to make a fic rec list of fics from this year that helped me through it. this will be over a range of fandoms and ships, but all fics were written this year. 

fics are ordered by the month they were published. ive tried to keep to five fics per month, but this is not obviously all the fics ive read that month - i just didn’t want to make this insanely long. 

im releasing the first half of this on the 1st of December, and the second half on the 1st of January 2021 - because otherwise it would just get so long (and also so i will actually have fics for December)

happy reading!! hopefully you find fics on this you haven’t read yet

***

January

The cat is mighty dignified (until the dog comes by): @five-wow

Steve and Danny find them on the pillow in the corner of the dining area, where Eddie is on his side, ass half on the floor because the pillow is more cat-sized than lab-sized, and Pickles is nestled between Eddie’s front legs, essentially being spooned and looking very I-got-the-cream about it. Pickles’ head is tucked into the crook of Eddie’s neck and Eddie’s head slots perfectly on top of Mr. Pickles’, like a furry jigsaw puzzle.

“They’re cuddling,” Steve points out, unnecessarily.

Or: There is a love story unfolding under the McGarrett roof.

Captain ‘Socialist Rage Muffin’ America: @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah

It takes three months of dating Steve Rogers for Tony to understand why Aunt Peggy once shot at him in sheer frustration.

Alternately titled, Honey, I committed treason again.

The Best Laid Plans (Of Mice and Men): @arboreal-elm-ash-oak

His Dark Materials AU

It was Annalise who noticed their small visitor first.

“Tony,” the spider daemon said softly, skittering up the collar of his dress shirt, two of her eight legs resting delicately against his cheek, “Don’t startle them, but I believe we have a guest. Look, by the coffee table.”

Fourteen Million to One: @tunastorks

Six months after Thanos, six months after Tony’s death, six months after Steve returns to his own timeline, Tony Stark turns up on their doorstep.

Brewed Awakening: @iam93percentstardust

Two years after he comes out of the ice, Steve is drifting through life. On his teammate's recommendation, he decides to go back to school where he meets the grandson of an old friend. He finds happiness with Tony but Steve won't be in Boston forever and someone is out to hurt the Starks. Will Steve and Tony be able to reach their happily ever after?

February

the young, the reckless and the foolish: @bruciewayne

In most universes, they don't know each other, not in the slightest, or they hate each other, in a way that's perfectly logical for anyone who were to find themselves in a similar situation.

In this one, they've known each other since they were four years old and naively idealistic.

This is them over the years, against the odds.

a giant sign: @areiton

“Think you can get him to open the weapons division up again?” his CO asks, his voice hungry and Rhodey laughs because this--

“No. Tony hung up his weapons.”

“That’s not what the suit says,” his CO objects, and Rhodey shrugs.

Tony has always had rules, rules he expects the entire world to live by.

And then there was Rhodey, slipping under them.

my heart is driftwood, floating down your coast: @nethandrake

Tonight, there’s a stranger in his backseat. That’s not unusual.

He’s also sad. That’s not unusual either.

What is unusual is that the stranger is silent.

(One night, a stranger enters Steve's taxi. Nothing is the same again.)

Just A Cold: @/delighted 

There’s a new text waiting for him. It’s from Steve of course, and it’s vaguely threatening as most messages from Steve are these days. Still Danny ignores it, and now he’s really playing with fire. Maybe it’ll burn the cold out of him.

Or, Danny’s sick, and Steve can’t stay away. The usual comfort fluff. With a little cameo from a gently meddling Grace.

An Unexpected Guide: @/Rachel500

Danny Williams has hidden his Guide status to keep being a detective, but his time of hiding is up when he unexpectedly finds his Sentinel, Steve McGarrett in the midst of a tragedy.

March

Why don’t we (Collide the spaces that divide us): @five-wow

When they finally catch sight of each other again through the milling crowds, they’re both a little worse for wear. Danny’s left side is covered in glitter and every time he brushes a hand over his hair, more blue and purple confetti rains down. Steve is- Well, Steve is randomly shirtless, which is all things considered not excessively remarkable, but he’s also covered in smudges of colorful paint and has a very nicely printed bloodred lipstick kiss mark on his cheek.

“What did you do?” Danny asks, because it looks like Steve had a lot more fun than he did.

Or: Steve and Danny accidentally end up in the middle of something entirely new.

A Little Unsteady: @finduilasclln 

Written for the Tumblr prompt meme : "Hey! I was gonna eat that!"

Tony lashes out at Bucky for eating his dessert. Only, it really isn't about the dessert.

a national treasure: @starklysteve

Steve isn't looking for an apple and Tony decides his passion is to inspire young souls. -x- OR: the AU where Tony is a Youtuber and Steve is Captain America and somehow they still save the world together.

April

cycle through: @ambivalentmarvel

Twenty-five years ago, Tony Stark disappeared from his family home a month after the tragic deaths of his parents, Howard and Maria Stark, leaving a billion-dollar tech conglomerate without an heir and the world wondering what happened.

Twenty-three years ago, HYDRA gained another super soldier.

Ten years ago, Peter Parker’s parents died in what is ruled as a home invasion gone wrong but he knows was murder, plain and simple, because he spoke to the killer.

And in the present, Project Insight fails, and the Iron Soldier pays the price.

FOREVER-LOVE YOU-I: @/Eudoxia

Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.

Especially for Tony's soulmate.

--

Companion piece to my fic Thumb, Index, and Pinky Extended. This is Steve's POV, with a few extra scenes, as a treat.

(Edit: Sorry if you guys get multiple notifications for this. I just realized (about two hours after posting it) that I fucked up the grammar in the title and I HAD to fix it. YOLO, I guess.)

come build a home out of me: @maguna-stxrk

Steve clears his throat.

“What if I went with you?” he asks nonchalantly, like his heart isn’t threatening to beat out of his ribcage.

Tony blinks a few times, looking at Steve, his mouth ajar. “As a— As my date?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods, feeling a little breathless.

“You don’t mind?” Tony furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t. In fact, you can just tell them I’m your boyfriend. I’m sure they’ll back off, wouldn’t they?”

What.

“I— Huh?” Tony stares at him, brown eyes blown wide open.

What. What. What.

“Huh? Uh, I mean— You know, that way people will see that you have definitely moved on. Monica will see that you have moved on. Right?” Steve smiles, hoping that it masks his inner panic, because what?

Steve Rogers, what have you done?

i don’t have a choice (but i’d still choose you): @nethandrake

There’s a name inked onto his chest, a name written in an all-too familiar scrawl. And it’s— It’s—

Steve doesn’t realize his body is quaking until he’s tracing the tattoo with a shaky finger.

Because of course that is the name etched into the skin. Like a brand, a reminder for everything he has done. An appropriate retribution.

Anthony Edward Stark.

(When Thanos snaps half of the universe away, he unknowingly leaves the other half with soulmarks.)

ua haʻalele ʻoe iaʻu (a ua hoʻomālamalama ʻoe iaʻu): @just-fandomthings

"The truth is, I was shot in the chest and nearly died, and not even three days after I was released from the hospital, you up and left-- and of those two, I'm not sure which one hurt me worse!"

(Coda to 10x22 because come on, we all need a better ending than the one given to us.)

Title loosely translates to: "You left me in the dark (you lit me up)" -- inspired by the brilliant song "Say You Won't Let Go" by James Arthur

May

A Piece Of The Past: @hddnone

It had been so many years since Bucky had gone undercover in the Stark family's mob, he thought he'd gotten away clean.

Then Tony Stark slid into the seat across from him at his breakfast diner, and Bucky's boss has a new case for him.

the privilege of loving you: @starklysteve

“Why won’t you let me touch you?”

It’s a desperate plea, half-shouted and half-whispered, Steve’s voice cracking at the end. Tony stops in his tracks, halfway to the stairs. He doesn’t dare to turn back, and he really doesn’t want to fight, or to leave, to spend the last month of his life away from his husband and their son. But Steve can’t know, can he?

-x-

Or: Tony has palladium poisoning, but he doesn't tell Steve and Peter

your pillow feels so soft now (but still you must advance): @firebrands

When Bruce is 13, he decides to go to boarding school. It's an opportunity for him to learn about other people, and how to interact with them.

Bruce has the misfortune of meeting Tony Stark upon his arrival in Roxbury. Bruce is moving into his room, and Tony opens the door of his room to watch. He looks a bit younger than Bruce, hair wild and eyes bright. Bruce has never seen a boy like him before—handsome and confident.

Bruce doesn’t like it.

IMPORTANT: This fic has them meeting at 14, then progresses slowly until they’re 17. Includes underage drinking and kissing.

This is set before Bruce becomes Batman and Tony becomes Iron Man and I have no explanation as to how or why they just DO Canonically, Bruce is 17 when he finishes school and goes around the world to train, so we're sticking with that

The Real MVP: @sword-and-stars (part of a series)

[“I have saved this Tuesday!” Sokka announces, rattling the bag upon reentry.

Zuko doesn’t even look up from his phone as he deadpans, “It’s Thursday.”

Okay, so Sokka is still having trouble getting his days right without checking. At least he’s gone back to sleeping at night! Going to bed at night is way easier when you have a cute, cuddly boyfriend who starts falling asleep around eleven o’clock. It also helps that he and Zuko are on solid gold butt-touching terms.

It’s been a while since Sokka has been on butt-touching terms with someone and it’s amazing.]

Or,

Sokka knows a guy, gets laid, and introduces Zuko to the merits of an afternoon delight.

When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it): @riotwritesthings

There’s a tiny safe house, with one tiny window and one tiny couch.

And one tiny little bed.

June

Nice Fingers: @anthonyed

A single compliment given by Tony stirs Bucky restless until he caves in and asks him out on a date.

With Steve’s help of course (whether he likes it or not).

The Darkest Touch: @starkrogerrs

This is the story of how Steve finds that it has been ordained that he is to marry a monster he cannot resist aka the God of Love himself, Tony.

It's Cupid x Psyche retold, but with thrice the amount of porn.

The Night Shift:  @weethreequarter

Welcome to the Emergency Department of San Antonio General where Dr. Tony Stark joins the team fresh from his most recent tour in Afghanistan and - much to the consternation of the other staff - strikes up an instant rapport with Nurse Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, new resident Bruce Banner refuses to give up on his patient, and Dr. Sharon Carter learns something from her own patients. Throw in a pissed off hospital administrator, Clint using the coffee pot as a mug again, and a major car crash and you have, well, just another night shift.

Wind Beneath My Wings: @iam93percentstardust

Sam first meets Tony Stark in 2005 when he joins the EXO-7 Falcon program.

In jest: @/apathyinreverie

“No, babe,” Danny shakes his head with a grin. “If the apocalypse were to go down while I’m elsewhere for some godforsaken reason, then you stay put and I’m coming to wherever you are.” His grin widens. “And I expect you to have cleared any aliens or zombies or whatever else might be messing with us off the island and to have set up a nice, comfortable military dictatorship for us to rule over by the time I get back.”

It’s a joke.

Of course it’s a joke.

Until it isn’t.

(A the-day-after-tomorrow-style apocalypse AU, where the world decides to end right when Danny is visiting one of the other islands with Grace. Because, of course, it does.)

[kafka-ish]

stanley’s sister has got it going on | r.t.

richie’s got a crush and he’s got it bad. the only thing that’s keeping him from the girl he’s been chasing is his best friend—her brother.

word count: 4,665

warnings/included: nsfw (not explicit), fluff, swearing, fem!reader

a/n: as i was rereading this i realized that this is the dirtiest thing i’ve ever written??? (so far). in comparison to other works it’s probably vv vanilla so pls bear with me

-

In the defense of Richie Tozier, it wasn’t his fault he ended up catching feelings for Stanley Uris’s little sister. There were a lot of things he couldn’t control. Like when his mouth opened and out came a poorly done impression of his chemistry teacher. (Which just so happened to have been done as Mr. Ford was standing behind the boy). 

Richie may as well just start a list of things he can’t help, marking y/n Uris down as number thirty-three. 

“Hey, Richie!” Well, well, well, if it wasn’t the person Richie had been most desperately trying to avoid. “Are you going to Stan’s tonight?” y/n asked. She was standing outside of his car door while he was in the driver’s seat, flicking through the radio stations, trying to find a good song for the ride home. 

Upon hearing the voice, Richie stopped fidgeting with the knob. It was honestly hopeless trying to find a good song at this point. None of the good stuff comes on until later. He turned his head to meet eyes with the accompanying voice from outside his car.

Bad idea. 

Of course, y/n chose to wear a tank top and the shortest skirt possible that day. Hell, any day he’d find his thoughts lost in her. Whether she was wearing a bikini at the quarry or in an oversized t-shirt and checkered pajama pants. 

“Earth to Richie?” y/n laughed. She waved her hand in front of his face, trying to capture his attention. Little did she know, that wasn’t necessary. 

“Actually, I was thinking about being a no-show today. I’ve been neglecting my training.” 

“Oh! You train? Which gym?” She was grinning wide and her gaze burned a hole through his heart. 

“The arcade. I gotta keep my skills fresh if I ever wanna keep that high score.” y/n rolled her eyes, but his comment still made her laugh. 

“Well, can you take me home? Once you drop me off I promise you can have all the time in the world to work on your skills.” Emphasis on ‘skills’. 

“Promise, eh?” Richie repeated, giving the girl a hard time. “Did Stan forget how to drive?” 

“No…” The ‘o’ part was drawn out. “He has his bird watching club today and I don’t feel like sitting in the sun for an hour while I wait for him.” 

Richie smiled to himself, thinking for a moment. On one hand, he shouldn’t be alone with the sister of one of his best friends’, as he had different intentions. On the other hand, he couldn’t just leave his best friend’s sister hanging like that. In hindsight, he had come to the conclusion that there was a possibility of Stan getting mad at him either way. 

Taking Stan’s sister home it was. 

“What are you waiting for, y/n/n, get in.” Richie finally made his decision. 

y/n cheered happily, thanking him, as she rounded his car and opened the door to the passenger’s seat. 

“You have no idea how happy this makes me!” y/n smiled, her expression reaching ear to ear. 

“Oh yeah. I bet you’re over the moon about getting a ride from your brother’s best friend in some beat up chevy.” Richie tried his best to distance himself. He really did. But he couldn’t help but notice y/n’s figure in the tight-fitting clothes, especially when she sat in such a close proximity to him. 

“I don’t think you get it, Tozier.” y/n hummed as she started turning the knob on the dash, finally settling on some rock station. She lowered the volume so they could still talk without yelling over the atmosphere. “We never hang out.” 

“We’re hangin’ out right now,” Richie argued, daring to look away from the road for one millisecond just so he could steal a glance at her. 

“Yeah, but… You hang out with Bill, Eddie, and Stan, and stuff.” She sounded disappointed. 

“I guess it’s different with them.” Richie shrugged. It was different with them. Bill, Eddie, Stan, Ben, and Beverly even, had their group together. They had the same classes together. They faced off a killer clown together. 

“I get that you guys have your own friend group and stuff.” y/n said quickly, not wanting to sound lonely or weird from her previous statement. “But we’re friends. Aren’t we?” She said this with an unsureness in her voice that Richie didn’t know how to reply to. 

I should’ve just left her at school. What’s so bad about waiting in the sun while Stan’s off watching some stupid birds? I guess it is kind of hot out. But a little heat won’t hurt anyone, right? Besides, she’s wearing a tank top. 

Richie peered over at y/n who was looking out the window as her head leaned against it. 

A white, lacy tank top that makes her skin look even more—

“Richie?” Concern washed over the girl’s eyes. Her attention turned to him instead of the scenery that passed by them. 

Richie whipped his head away from her body and stared blankly at the road. It was almost as if he were a ghost. Except he actually had color in his face. 

“What is it, y/n/n?” Richie’s eyes were still on the road. 

“I asked if we were friends.” The girl giggled, not being able to take anything seriously for longer than five minutes. “But that’s a stupid question.” She looked down and began to pick at her nails. 

“Of course we’re friends.” Richie insisted. The only problem is that I want more and your brother would kill me. 

Something inside of y/n calmed at the affirmation. “So we should hang out.”

“Already told ya, y/n/n. I got a date with destiny today.” 

“I don’t mind being the third wheel.” 

To be frank, that was the last thing Richie needed. It was bad enough that middle schoolers would wait lined up behind him, watching as he lost at some silly arcade game that he still had a passion for. He didn’t need some hot girl hanging over his shoulder while he did so, too. But Richie’s mouth had betrayed his thoughts. 

“Only if you want to, y/n/n.” He had avoided trying to call y/n anything other than her name or her nickname. He wouldn’t allow himself to call her any of the cutesy trademark pet names he’d call other girls that he would shamelessly flirt with for fun. He started implementing this tactic in sophomore year once he really started to notice her. 

At first, it was the way she greeted him every time the losers met up at Stan’s house. Maybe he was crazy, but he swore she gave him special attention: always running up towards him when she saw him, her lingering by his side before Stan yelled at her, asking if she had anything better to do. Her smile was seemingly wider and her eyes brighter whenever she held conversations with him compared to the other losers—or maybe that was just Richie looking into things too much. 

Due to drama and false rumors, y/n had started hanging out with the losers more this year. It was an attempt for her to take her mind off of the absence of friends on her part. None of the losers seemed to mind, even Stan. Thus, she became a regular when the group went on swimming trips to the quarry or slept over at each other’s houses. This didn’t really help Richie’s case. Now, he was basically forced to see her figure in a swimsuit and in every other setting imaginable. Not to mention, he couldn’t do anything about it either. 

The two had finally arrived at the arcade. Richie had managed to snag the closest parking spot to the entryway and y/n relentlessly made fun of how he never parked straight until they got in the door.

“Okay, kid. Once you get your license, you can criticize my ‘bad’ parking. But for now, since you’re hitching rides for free, I say you better just keep quiet for now.” 

“But you’re so over the lines! I can’t imagine your coloring if that’s how you park.” 

“I’ll have you know, y/n, I don’t color. For one, that shit’s for babies. And I am way past that preschool shit. And second of all, coloring’s way lame.” Richie had made his way over to the Street Fighter machine and inserted a quarter in the slot. 

y/n watched him thoughtfully for awhile as he fidgeted with the joystick and jammed the buttons. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” she asked, growing bored of watching the same repetitive visuals from over his shoulder. But she didn’t think she could ever grow tired of watching him. 

“Hold on.” His hand smashed against the buttons in rapid fire movements while he simultaneously maneuvered the joystick. A few seconds after, the game played a pitiful noise and the boy let out a groan. Richie had lost. 

“That’s a weird way of saying coke.” y/n hummed before skipping off to the lounge area. 

On her way back, she saw Richie’s face contort in frustration. Once again, he had lost to the game. 

“Cheer up, buttercup!” y/n passed handed him the glass bottle and Richie had finally stepped away from the Street Fighter machine. 

“Easy for you to say. You don’t got an inanimate object beating ya four to one.” Richie pretended to wipe the nonexistent sweat off his brow and looked down to y/n, offering her a smug look. 

“Would a kiss make you feel better?” The girl leaned closer to him and got up on her tippy toes, preparing to peck him on his cheek. 

This was the first of y/n showing any sign of real interest. And while Richie wanted to bask in the glory of his long time crush finally coming around, his thoughts also drew to Stan. What kind of friend would he be if he made a move on his friend’s little sister? Technically she’s the one making the moves- 

Cut it out, Rich!

His internal monologue argued for a while before he realized y/n’s lips were attached to his face. 

“W-what are you doing?” Richie belatedly snapped out of his thoughts and came to his senses. 

y/n pulled away. Her arms crossed tightly around her chest and her posture was now slightly hunched over. Oh. 

“I thought I could make you feel better.” She mumbled. When she eventually spoke, she let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding in. “Can you take me home?” She asked, though it was more of a statement than a question. 

“Of course.” The two started heading for the door and Richie tried to slow his pace so that his long legs would be in sync with hers. “To be honest, y/n/n, I was kinda getting tired of this ol’ dump anyways.” 

A small smile graced y/n’s lips as he talked. Even if she was still embarrassed from the previous events. 

“You’re not gonna be a professional video game player?” 

“Oh no. That dream’s been abandoned for a long time now.” Richie quipped back. He was turning the keys into the ignition and began to drive off. 

The car ride to Stan’s place was silent. Either because of the turn that had taken place earlier at the arcade, or because Richie didn’t wanna open his big mouth and accidentally slip up; ruining his relationship with both Stan the Man and Stan the Man’s hot sister. 

Richie’s old chevy slowly came to a stop at the front of Stan’s house. The sky was cloudless and an unnerving shade of blue today, highlighting how perfectly trim and green Uris’s lawn was. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” y/n finally spoke up. Her voice foreign to Richie’s ears after the fifteen minutes of dead air from the two of them. But it wasn’t that foreign. Her voice echoed through his brain practically everyday. Whenever classes got boring or nights seemed endless, Richie found himself either replaying past conversations between them. Or other scenarios… She was an unhealthy addiction he couldn’t quit. Like smoking, only hotter and way more deadly. 

“What’s there to talk about?” Richie faced y/n, putting on his best ‘I’m-not-interested-in-you’ face, when he really felt quite the opposite.

“Richie, I feel like you don’t like me.” Her accusation was dead wrong, but there was hurt in her eyes. Somehow, Richie had managed to convince the girl of his dreams he hates her when that couldn’t be less true. 

“I don’t.” He forced a chuckle to ease the tension but y/n wasn’t having it. 

“Can I tell you something?” y/n asked. Richie nodded, a quizzical look on his face. Before continuing, y/n swallowed. She didn’t usually get nervous, but Richie was someone to get nervous over. “I like you.” 

Her words felt like something out of a dream Richie once had before. 

“What can I say, kid. It’s impossible not to.” Of course, y/n didn’t really like him. At least, not like that. She was probably just saying this for shits and giggles. Pulling his leg. A classic Richie stunt. 

“I mean, I like you like how Ben likes Beverly.” 

Richie’s eyes then widened at the declaration and his body stiffened. 

“It’s okay if you don’t like me back,” she said with such ease that Richie admired. She shrugged and the thin strap of her tank top fell down her shoulder. Richie couldn’t help but notice, his eyes wandering where they shouldn’t. 

“Listen—” He gulped. His eyes kept trailing down no matter how hard he tried not to. “Listen,” he repeated, now meeting her big eyes, “I don’t not like you, y/n/n. In fact the funny thing is… is—” his words got caught in his throat. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her. Not with Stan’s breathing always down his back (whether Stan was actually there or not).  

“What’s so funny, Rich?” Her soft, sweet voice filled his ears once again. It was like a spell, because suddenly (and conveniently), the thought of Stan was no longer in the back of Richie’s mind. 

“I like you too, kid.” His voice was low, but y/n still heard him.

“So what’s stopping this?” A sly smirk formed on y/n’s face. She climbed over the control panel and her already short skirt rode up to be even higher. 

y/n sat herself on Richie’s lap. The boy had to keep from pinching himself. What was happening was straight out of a wet dream of his he’d probably had last night. 

The girl on his lap was toying with a strand of his hair while looking into his eyes. Her shoulder was still bare from the strap that fell off it.

“I’m so glad you feel the same way.” Richie didn’t think he could help himself any longer with the sultry way she was speaking and the fact that she was on his lap. “Now I can do this.” 

y/n placed a tender kiss to the awestruck boy’s lips. It was slow and steady. She didn’t want to mess things up since they had just admitted their feelings to one another. 

But Richie was impatient. 

As soon as she pulled away, he connected his lips to hers again. He was sloppy and fast paced with his movements, yet still full of passion. 

y/n giggled into his mouth which caused Richie’s heart to skip a beat. She’d been waiting for this moment since she first laid eyes on him. 

The first time Richie stepped foot into the Uris household, y/n had greeted him excitedly. 

“y/n could you get that!” Stan shouted to her from their den. He was busy setting up board games, making sure every last piece was in its designated place. 

“Why do I have to?” y/n grumbled, still walking out of her room so she could get to the door anyway. “You were closer.” 

“I’m preparing for game night. This is the first time my friends are coming over and I want everything to be suitable.” Stan was polishing the game pieces now. 

“I don’t think your friends will mind if one of your little thing-a-ma-bobs is out of place.” y/n jokingly tipped over one of the players to Stanley’s game that he had already put into place but she quickly put it back upon noticing the discontent that marked his face as she did so. 

“I’ll mind.” Her brother replied calmly. 

Another knock at the door. 

“Can you please get that?” 

y/n got up and walked over to the door. She was first met with a lanky boy whose legs were too long for his torso and eyes were too big for his face. 

She didn’t expect Stan’s friends to be hot. 

“Hi!” y/n exclaimed, hoping to give off a good impression on the group.

“I didn’t know Stan had an underaged maid. I guess the Uris’ will do anything for labor work.” No one laughed at Richies joke. 

“That’s Stan’s sister, dipwad,” Eddie said, disgusted at his friend. 

Richie made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth and the group shuffled in, meeting Stan in the den. 

“Stan you never told me you had a hottie for a sister.” y/n could hear Richie’s voice from across the hall. Her intestines turned into butterflies and she could pass for a canary with how red her face had gotten. 

But despite having the hugest crush on Richie, y/n never shared any classes with the boy. She was a year younger than Stan, but in the same grade as him because of the accelerated classes she took. So y/n had to admire from afar. 

Well, not anymore. 

Her lips were now attached to his neck, eliciting a moan from him. She smirked at that and started to roll her hips against his. Her name fell from his lips over and over and over again which evoked her to keep going. 

“Richie!?” An angered voice called from the outside of his car. 

It was the one and only. Stanley Uris. 

It was too late to act fast. Richie pulled y/n off him and looked guiltily out the window to see the face that matched the voice. 

But Richie already knew who it was. 

“Who me? I dink you ghat de wrahng goey.” Richie did his best Irish man accent but it was no use. 

“Okay, Richie, cut the crap.” Stan’s face was twisted up in an expression that almost scared Richie. His hands were folded against his chest and he was waiting for an answer. 

Richie simply couldn’t bring himself to answer the boy. He sat in shame with y/n next to him staring at her brother. Richie may as well have had ‘I’M SORRY’ written on his forehead with the way he was gaping at Stan.  

“y/n get out of the car.” Stan said, breaking eye contact with his friend. 

The girl complied, whispering about how sorry she was to the boy who drove her home before getting out. After that, she didn’t dare glance back at him in his car and Richie didn’t have the energy to even look anywhere besides the steering wheel. 

That was last week. Since then, Stan and Richie hadn’t said a word to each other. Richie hadn’t spoken to y/n since then either. The tension was too thick between Stan and Richie and Richie didn’t want to mess things up more than he already did. 

“I c-cuh-can’t believe yo-you liked y/n.” Bill chuckled. 

It was after school and the two were in the library. The details of what happened that day eventually got out. Both Stan and Richie had told their sides of the story and the losers were respectful enough to not take sides. They just hung out with Richie when Stan wasn’t around and hung out with Stan when Richie wasn’t there. 

“What’s so bad about that?” Richie looked skeptically at his friend, trying his best to defend himself. 

“I mean, yea-yeah sh-sh-she’s cute—”

“She’s beautiful.” Richie cut off but Bill rolled his eyes. 

“What-h-ever. I-it’s just funny tha-hat you wuh-would go after her.” 

“I already told you she kissed me first.” Richie proclaimed, a little too proudly. 

“Sh-he’s Stan’s sister!” That was true. 

“And a good kisser.” That was also true. 

“Gross, Richie.” Bill returned to the book in front of him, but Richie kept egging on the conversation. 

“I don’t see why someone has to be off limits just because they’re related to a friend.” His annoyed tone was evident and Bill gave him a sympathetic look. 

“It-t’s b-ba-basically written in th-the br-r-ro code.” Bill paused for a moment and Richie didn’t know if it was because he was embarrassed of his stuttering or if he was gathering his thoughts. “But i-i-if you li-li-like her… wh-who am I to s-suh-say any-th-thing.” 

If Bill was insinuating what Richie thought he was, then that made him cooler than he already was. 

And that’s how Richie found himself in y/n’s room Friday night. The losers were meeting up at the Aladdin to see the new Jim Carrey movie and somehow Richie had been able to get himself out of it, claiming he was overdue on chores and couldn’t make it. 

“Th-that’s t-too bad, R-Rich.” Bill said over the phone (but he knew better) while the other losers pressed their ear up against it, listening in. “The c-co-omedy should be ri-right up your alley.” 

“Dumb and underdeveloped?” Eddie asked Bill. “I don’t wanna see a movie just to hate it,” he complained. 

“Yowza, Eds. And I thought you appreciated my jokes.” Richie feigned hurt over the speaker. “Anywho, I gotta make like a tree and hang up. The ‘rents are asking for me.” They weren’t. 

“O-okay. Maybe nuh-nuh-next wee—” Beep. 

Richie had already hung up. 

y/n grabbed his hand, which was clamped over her mouth and took it off. She was bursting to the seams with laughter. 

“I can’t believe you’re a liar now,” she tsked, trying to fake an ‘I’m-not-mad-at-you-just-disappointed’ look that her English teacher had given her once. 

“Only under these circumstances.” He was fast to attach his lips to hers. They didn’t have much time and he wanted to make the most of what they had now. 

Richie was on top of her now, his lips still on hers. He kissed her everywhere from the crown of her head to the crook of her neck. If his kisses left a print, her skin would be buried under them. 

“Rich…” She sighed contentedly, eyes fluttering from the pleasure he inflicted on her when he had found a sweet spot behind her ear. y/n kissed him back hard with force and a sort of dominance Richie didn’t know she had in her. 

She flipped them, so that she was on top now. y/n took this liberty of having full control to take off her shirt and Richie’s as well. 

Richie smirked and began to kiss lower. His pace was slower than he originally started. Painstakingly slow. y/n wined at how delicate his lips felt tracing her skin but she needed more. 

“Touch me,” she urged. Richie obeyed, his hands were now on her chest, massaging and caressing her delicate skin. 

There weren’t enough words to describe the thrill and satisfaction Richie gave her. y/n could relish in this boy’s embrace forever with how good he made her feel. She began grinding against his jeans, just like the day they were caught by Stanley, so she could ease the ache for him between his legs. 

Richie chuckled, feeling her press against him. He knew precisely what she wanted but to give or not to give in was the question. 

“y/n/n, we don’t have that long,” He warned. 

“I don’t care.” She started peppering his face in kisses the same way he had done to her. At the same time, she began to unbutton his jeans. Who would Richie be to turn down sex anyway? 

She was fast at getting him inside her. Definitely not inexperienced. But Richie didn’t want fast. Not with y/n, at least. He wanted their first together to be slow, sensual, special—

“You’re amazing,” he grunted and she blushed in response. 

Her pace quickened at his praise. Their movements together felt electric and y/n herself was so hypnotic, Richie felt he could get lost in the thought—or the feeling —of her forever. 

A feeling that was indescribable washed over Richie once the two of them were finished. He had stayed inside of her, and y/n was now laying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and tracing circles on his skin with her thumb. Their chests rose and fell together at the same time, a small action that Richie melted at the sight of. 

“For the record, I didn’t want it to happen like this,” Richie said. There was a sort of fear palpable in his tone. 

“For the record, you kissed me first.” y/n eyed him suspiciously before giving him a peck on the cheek. “And what does that mean? Did you…” She shyly decided on her words for a moment. “Did you not want to..?” 

“No, no, no, no.” Richie immediately counteracted the girl’s suggestion. “I so wanted to do this. I’ve dreamed about doing this—” Richie stopped himself before his talking could make things worse, but y/n found his rambling amusing. 

“So, what did you mean?” y/n tried again. She reached out to hold his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. 

“I mean.” He let out a sigh before continuing. “I wanted us to be, like, an official couple and shit before we do this shit.” He motioned between them and to where they were still joined. 

y/n flushed at the sight and covered her face. 

“Hey.” Richie was soft. Softer than y/n had ever seen him be. He took her wrists in his hands, uncovering her face so he could admire her. 

She was stunning even after sex. 

“I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” He was almost embarrassed to admit it, but with y/n he didn’t feel the need to be afraid. “I want us to go on dates and hold hands and tell each other about our day.” He was looking at the ceiling, daydreaming at the thought.

y/n’s eyes searched his face thoughtfully. “Of course, Rich. I want that, too!” She kissed his lips once more, elated at the boy in front of her. Her face fell shortly after she had a sudden understanding. “What’re you gonna do about Stan?” 

“Who’s Stan?” But Richie’s fake grin wasn’t fooling anyone. “Uh, well, we could tell him…” But when Richie saw a certain uneasiness consume y/n’s face, he ruled that option out. “How do you feel about dating in secret?” He offered. The situation wasn’t ideal, but at the time it seemed to be the lesser of the two evils at hand. 

“Okay,” y/n whispered. “So you should leave.” 

“Woah, babe, I just got here.” Richie sat up, looking for his shirt. 

“Yeah, but the movie should’ve ended by now.” y/n gestured towards the alarm clock on her nightstand causing Richie’s jaw to drop. 

He was heading towards the window now, knowing he had enough time to get out, but he wanted to be careful. 

“See you tomorrow then?” y/n giggled at how clingy he could be. 

“I’ll call you.” And Richie just couldn’t get enough of the smile she was wearing. 

“Sounds like a date!” He yelled from outside her house. 

During the drive home, Richie’s thoughts became lost in y/n once again. This was just the beginning.