#still very much a god though so he's really only got to worry about shit if another god comes for him

[beatcroc]

Is your pfp an oc of urs? Any story?

yah that's N.K.

primer: a former god of fear who has since resigned, and now runs what is essentially an intergalactic tourist trap on his cursed planet, simply known as ''nk's domain''

i don't really do "stories" per se i just have my guys in their 'verse and they have their lore and sometimes that's actionable in a plot sort of way, but most of the time they are just doing their things. nk is one of my oldest oc's and as such probably the most, like, centralizing? nk's domain is sort of a meetup hub for most other characters that don't have their own defined Thing going on, as well as what several characters' Things are directly related to, but nk himself isn't all that much of an active player any more and most of the current story type stuff i'm working with has kinda moved beyond him.

aside from that it's just his history tying him to other stuff; there's a lotta old-guard guys who fuckin hate him back from when he was still doing the whole 'reign of terror' fear deity thing [nk used to stand for 'nightmare king' but he just goes by nk now], there's a bunch a new-guard guys he's pissed off for being the main force behind the universal outlawing of capitalism[honestly not that important and some worlds still do it anyway bc gods are bad at caring enough to actually enforce their rules unless it's like a Really egregious violation], and there's also the history of said "cursed planet" itself [he didnt do that he doesnt know why its like that he just saw it wand went ooooh free real estate. but theres a reason its like that and he's starting to pay the price for having taken it over [accidentally unleashed an imprisoned god-parasite plague][uh oh][its that yellow thing in the last image][this is actually what my "main" "story"/alleged webcomic is about] [go here go in the dark]]

[walpu]

I've got those requests almost at the same time jsrfwwxewe also I fucked up big time and accidentally deleted them but thanks god I've made the screenshots

I've been looking forward to writing something nsfw for him lmao

nsfw headcanons w/Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, nsfw, subby!Aven. Somehow turned into a character study. Somewhat angsty but with a turn for hurt/comfort. No beta.

Okay, first of all, he's no virgin. But he's NOT a manwhore either. Like for some reason when it comes to the cunning characters it's always either he's a dickrider-pussydestroyer-900 or he's actually a fragile innocent virgin baby. Not the case with Aventurine, not on my watch at least.

I mean it's pretty much canon that the only moment he feels truly alive is when he's gambling so he won't seek sex for the purpose of filling up the hole in his heart. And I don't see him as a lustful person in general.

He has one-night stands from time to time though. Not particularly often but once in a while he feels a certain level of frustration and stress budling up in him so in order to distress without losing his cool he seeks sexual relief. For him it's a safe way to relax a bit without actually taking off the mask of a frivolous and confident man.

Also. He's very touch starved. Not even in a lustful way, he just wants to feel someone's touch. Someone on twitter pointed out that he's practically hugging himself on his e6 and I haven't been the same ever since.

And now look at his body language in almost every cutscene. He has his arms crossed and is generally pretty reversed. I think he doesn't trust people around enough to be in his personal space but when it's a part of the sexual act, it's just natural. He doesn't have to feel exposed. So yeah. This is another reason why he seeks sex.

Now do you remember what Sparkle said to him? About stripping himself naked for Sunday and all that? Yeah I feel like he gets comments like that a lot due to people's prejudice against Avgins. People are usually not this straightforward butttt the idea behind their comments is the same.

He may act unaffected as long as he wants to but I do think it messed him up quite a bit.

Due to his fucked up views on his own value and his sexuality he doesn't have a healthy set of boundaries with his partners, allowing them to be as mean and rough as they want. And I don't mean just kinky stuff, I mean genuinely uncaring partners who really don't give a shit about Aven's comfort. I think subconsciously he seeks people like this. In his eyes, it's better this way, otherwise he may crumble from a gently and caring touch.

So yeah. His sexual encounters usually leave him sore and exhausted. The initial feeling of relief washes away in the morning, leaving him more empty than before.

Okay now to the happier part because we are 466 words in and I still didn't say anything good or sexy.

If the two of you started your relationship as a fling then initially he would be surprised because of how observant and attentive you are.

"My, my, how caring you are. But don't worry about me, you're free to use me as you wish" he says in the same flirty tone as usual. And you just. Stare.

He acts like he's bored while you literally pry the information out of him and, well, he doesn't give you anything specific anyway so you have to ask questions during the whole prosses to make sure he's doing fine. Orrr you just set for something very vanilla just in case.

In reality he's a bit confused. Has mixed feeling about this. Being treated with such care makes it harder for him to hide behind his mask but it feels so nice.

And when he realizes that he has actual feelings for you he just. Stops sleeping with you lmao. If you have questions about this he'll find 2134144 excuses but in reality he just tries to figure out his own feelings.

If you started off as friends then he would not try to sleep with you until you start dating. At first he just doesn't want to mix up this dynamics. And when he catches feelings, he just tries to make sense of it. Plus since sex is not something entirely positive for him, he's just kind of... unsure how it may affect your relationship even if it's obvious that the two of you want each other.

Okay now the real talk. When the two of you are officially lovers be prepared to face his messed up views on his own sexuality. Will probably need a lot of reassurance, attention and aftercare to realize the importance of his own safety and comfort. Learns to value himself through you.

A very good lover, knows how to please you and wants to please you. His previous sex partners weren't important to him so he didn't go out of his way to make them feel good but with you it's a different story. Literally worships your body, pressing kisses everywhere. Especially likes your thighs. Kisses them, bites them, leaves marks all over them. Loooooves teasing them while keeping eye contact with you right before giving you oral.

I feel like he's a switch but leans towards being a sub. May dom if you want him to or, rarely, if he feels like it.

May look like a brat but is not actually a brat. Well, most of the time. He's a tease but still does pretty much everything you want without making you work for it. However, if he's in a playful mood, may get all cheeky with you. Says stuff like: "Oh, that's all? I know you can do better" or "My dearest, don't disappoint me, okay? You know I don't make deals that don't pay off" just to rile you up. He loves being tamed okay. He knows you won't hurt him so him being all cheeky and disobedient is actually a huge sign that he's comfortable with you and trusts you fully.

Worship his body and he'll melt. Like. He'll genuinely crumble.

Goes all worked up and needy and soft and completely submissive in your arms.

Loves loves loves edging you. And fucking hate being edged. And by "hates" I mean he will whine and sulk and beg you to let him cum already. Secretly loves it but won't admit. You know it anyway since he never tries to stop you, obeying your every command, like a good boy he is. If you tell him that you'll stop doing that if he actually wants you to he'll huff and admit that he's not actually against you being a meanie.

Loves marking your body and loves when you mark his. HOWEVER would prefer to leave/have hickeys on the parts of your bodies that are usually covered. Doesn't want to create any rumors and doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. However, if you're into this, he'll gladly cover your entire neck with hickeys.

Is actually very sensitive pretty much everywhere so it's quite easy to overstimulate him. Once again, he'll whine but would never be against it.

Has the pretties moans and is very loud as well.

Doesn't have a lot of stamina so if he tops and you're still not satisfied after he cums, he'll use toys to entertain you up until he is ready for another round. If he bottoms then please give him some time to rest. Andddd kiss all over his body so he would get worked up again as soon as possible.

Has a praise kink. And a bit of a degradation kink too actually. Don't just insult him, mix it up with a praise and boom he's ready to cum.

Loves aftercare. Both giving and receiving it. He feels extremely vulnerable after a sensual lovemaking session so please just hold him and tell him he did great.

[leupagus]

I've read the top 20 fic by bookmarks of The Pitt on AO3

and they range from "not my bag" to "delightful" (though I've noticed some worrying trends I'll discuss elsewhere), even though I still don't have any horse in any particular race wrt ships. However, the King/Langdon fic I desperately want (and, so far as I know, no one has yet written) is asexual!Langdon/townbicycle!King.

Hear my vision:

Langdon gets through in-patient rehab; his most frequent visitor is his wife (who eventually becomes his ex-wife, but they still care about each other and he's—not relieved, but not so worried, since he feels like he's been letting her down ever since they got married), his second most frequent visitor is Robby (who just stares at him from across the table with his arms crossed, mirror image to Frank), and his third most frequent visitor is Santos (who always arrives with a stack of medical journals and shit and they always erupt in a screaming argument within five minutes of her arrival until she storms out, which is sometimes five hours later and sometimes five minutes later). Mel does not visit him at all and honestly he's glad, he hopes he didn't fuck her up somehow from their one day together.

So he comes back after some time off, and it's hugely awkward and embarrassing and he and Robby are still not really speaking to each other, per se, and everyone else is a little jumpy around him too. Mel is the only one who seems genuinely delighted to see him and strangely, they still get along really well — as if he's been here this whole time, getting to know her and work alongside her. They become a duo in much the same way Santos and Ellis are a duo, or Robby and Collins, or Abbott and Mohan. Langdon doesn't really think anything of it. Some doctors work best as a team. Maybe he'd just been waiting to find his teammate.

Only then he starts hearing these weird — not even rumors, it's not gossipy, it's more matter-of-fact than that. A new nurse arrives, working the swing shift midnight to noon. She's got bright blonde hair and a southern drawl and Shen starts sighing wistfully whenever he thinks nobody notices. Frank thinks she's pretty good at her job: a little stingy on restocking gauze but otherwise solid, and she has some incredibly good stories about being a bartender at an honest-to-god roadhouse when she was younger. Frank likes her just fine until one day he passes the nurse's station to find Perlah and Princess and Santos talking in — one of the languages they speak and he doesn't. Portuguese? All he catches are the new nurse's name, and Mel's.

"What's this about Ashliegh and Mel?" he asks, although judging by their eyebrows he sounds more demanding. But suddenly Santos grins this very evil grin that reminds him why he doesn't actually like her, at all, not even the slightest bit of begrudging affection whatsoever.

"They uh... you know," she says, waggling her eyebrows a couple times. From over her shoulder, Frank can see Mel darting into an alcove to talk to their ingrown toenail guy again. "Last night Ashliegh got the King-sized, if you know what I mean?"

"What," Frank says, squinting at her.

"You know," Princess says significantly, at the exact same time that Perlah says, "Oh my god, you don't know. Have you not gotten the King-sized yet?"

"What," Frank repeats.

"Oh," Santos says, equal parts gleeful and conspiratory, "bro, you are gonna love it. You know, if she ever picks you. Why hasn't she picked you yet?" she adds, cocking her head thoughtfully. "I'd've figured you'd be like, right up there."

"Hey, it took her a while to get around to Dr. Mentah, remember? And she thinks he's great," Perlah says. "Maybe she's saving him for a special occasion."

"What."

Which is how Frank finds out that Mel has slept with pretty much every available member of the day shift and swing shifts, three-quarters of the night shift, and a third of the rest of the hospital (though weirdly only a quarter of Neuro. Nobody's figured out why). Which accounts for why Abbott's always got that weird little twinkle in his eye when he works with her, or why Dana slapped her on the ass that one time with a patient's file, or why — apparently — Walsh had that limp a few weeks ago.

It takes him a literal week to figure out how to ask about it, in the most indirect possible way he can think of, which of course leads to Mel turning to him with a puzzled frown and say, "Oh! Did you — I didn't think you'd be interested, but I'm free tonight, if you'd like."

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day five

prompt: teacher pairing: charles/oscar word count: 900

“Seriously, Ames?” Oscar says, when he rounds the corner and finds her sitting on a chair just outside the classroom.

“It was for love, dad!” Amelia exclaims, jumping up when she sees him. “I can’t just not do it if it is for love.”

Oscar has conflicting opinions on that. It is, sweet, of course. He’s glad Amelia still believes in the concept of love at all, seeing as her own father is so completely shit at it. But like. He really wishes she would stop hosting flashmobs. Or serenades. Or that time she and that boy from her Spanish class that was really good at programming tried to make a matchmaking app.

“Right, yeah,” Oscar says, ruffling her hair. She’s too old for that now, and he knows he only gets away with it because she knows she’s in trouble. “Just. Maybe find a more quiet avenue next time, yeah? How about a good old fashioned love note?”

Amelia’s eyes light up in a way that the unexperienced eye would find adorable, but that fills the person who has been raising her for the past fifteen years mostly with dread. “Yes,” she breathes out, and then grabs for her bag, probably to retrieve a notepad.

“Okay, well, I guess while you go plan your next ‘disruption of a calm learning environment’ I will go speak with Mr. Leclerc yeah?” He says, hand on the doorknob. She barely glances at him and he sighs as he pushes open the door.

“Ah, Mr. Piastri,” Mr. Leclerc says, looking up from his desk with a wide smile. “You made it.”

Oscar thinks, generally, that he would have a much better time coming to the school to talk about his daughter’s behavior if her teacher wasn’t so goddamn pretty. With bright, sparkling eyes, and a lazy smile, and the kind of artfully tousled hair Oscar couldn’t even achieve if he tried.

The horribly baggy pants and oversized button up combo don’t even ruin the look. Somehow it makes him look cool. Oscar hasn’t looked cool since, well. Possibly ever.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Oscar says, sitting down in the chair Mr. Leclerc gestures at. “Again. I don’t know who he has it from.”

“Not you, I presume?” Mr. Leclerc says, eyes twinkling. He doesn’t seem mad, so that’s. Good. Amelia’s previous teacher consistently got their panties in a bunch about the well. Singing. And dancing. And everything.

“No, god no,” he hasn’t tried in a while, but he doesn’t think he could dance. Or sing.

“Her mother, perhaps?” Mr. Leclerc asks, flipping through some folders on his desk.

“Maybe,” Oscar says. “She hasn’t been around for a long time, so. Yeah. I think she mostly gets it from Lando? I mean not the singing and the dancing but this. Need to perform? He’s a DJ, so.”

“Ah, your partner?” Charles asks, looking up at Oscar now, curiously.

“Oh Christ no,” Oscar says, trying not to pull a face, remembers he’s talking to his daughter’s teacher, and schools himself into a more neutral expression. “No, uh. Lando’s just a friend. Of the family. He’s not. He has a boyfriend.”

“Ah,” Charles says. “Alright. Well, I mostly summoned you here because-“

“Because my daughter upheaved your class by performing a perfectly choreographed flashmob to Bruno Mars’s ‘Just The Way You Are’? Yeah, I uh. I heard. And I apologize, again. I’ve been trying to talk to her about it, but it’s-“ he pulls a face. “It’s just me and she’s just uh. Very different and sometimes I just. I don’t really know how to get through to her?”

It’s the most honest he’s been in a while. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly blurting all of this out to Mr. Leclerc of all people. He’s blaming the big sparkly eyes. Stupid eyelashes, too.

“Hm, I can imagine. All parents kind of feel like that when they reach this age, though, don’t worry. No, I was actually wondering if you were aware of our after school theatre program? I think she would do wonderfully in there. If it’s more the dancing she’s into, or the singing, there’s also a dance team and a choir.”

Oscar blinks. Process. He’s so used to hearing Amelia’s teacher admonish her behavior he wasn’t really expecting anyone to. Well. Encourage her.

“Oh,” he says.

“They’re free, school funded programs, if that’s a concern,” Mr. Leclerc continues. “But I do think it might be a nice outlet for her.”

“Yeah,” he says. He knew, vaguely, that there were clubs. But Amelia had never expressed an interest, and he’d been too busy juggling his demanding job and raising a teenager to ever properly look into them and. Yeah. He takes the folder Mr. Leclerc hands him.

“Thak you, Mr. Leclerc,” he says. Mr. Leclerc stands, and so does he.

“No problem. That was all, really. I do some of the musical accompaniments for the theatre and choir programs so if you have any questions feel free to ask.” By the door, Mr. Leclerc takes his hand. Oscar shakes it a little dazedly. “And please. Call me Charles.”

“Oscar,” Oscar says. Charles hands are soft, and his smile is gentle, and his eyes are still so incredibly stupidly sparkly and fuck. Fuck.

“How did it go?” Amelia asks, when he steps back out the door.

‘I think I might be in love with your teacher’, he thinks. “We’re enrolling you into the school’s theatre program,” he says.

[thewertsearch]

ERIDAN: im just saying wwhere the fuck wwere you guys ERIDAN: i had to deal wwith those awwful angels all by my self ERIDAN: do you havve any idea howw hard those assholes are to kill ERIDAN: like at least a minute of sustained fire from only the most legendary wweapon evver and they wwere FAST and ANGRY as SHIT

That's fucking terrifying, what the fuck?

Even without a maxed weapon, John was able to kill a First Guardian Imp in well under a minute.

Eridan's 'angels' survived significantly longer, while under fire from a significantly more powerful weapon. They're massively more durable than the most dangerous Underlings in the game, despite their session's Kernels containing weaker material.

What the fuck are these things made of?

KARKAT: I REALLY DON'T THINK YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE KILLING THEM DUDE. KARKAT: I KEPT SAYING, I THINK THEY'RE LIKE GAME CONSTRUCTS OR SOMETHING. THERE TO SERVE SOME OTHER GAME PURPOSE, NOT FOR YOU TO HUNT DOWN. KARKAT: THEY DIDN'T EVEN GIVE YOU ANY GRIST, YOU IDIOT. THAT WAS YOUR FIRST CLUE.

Far from being random Underlings, these angels are starting to seem kind of important, actually.

Like Jade's frogs, they represent one of the dual traits of their Land - and Jade's frogs are mission fucking critical. Did these angels also have an endgame purpose to serve?

If so, just how badly has Eridan fucked us over?

I don't know for sure if this quote is related, but Sollux described angels as 'terrible' beings who 'usher in the end'.

If these are the the LOWAA angels, then they almost certainly did have an endgame role that Eridan didn't discover.

Guys, I’ll admit it.

Eridan is kind of funny.

Karkat is really worried, isn’t he? He’s desperate to keep his team safe, even though most of them aren’t really listening to him any more.

Everyone gave this guy so much shit for being an ineffectual leader, but even now, he's taking his responsibility very seriously. Most of the other trolls would have thrown in the towel by now.

Six hundred hours.

This campaign went on for six hundred fucking hours, and Eridan still isn’t leaving Feferi the fuck alone. Did shooting all those angels not let off a little steam? Come on, man.

FEFERI: […] Eridan, you weren't really serious about going to find Jack, were you? ERIDAN: of course i wwas ERIDAN: and wwe should do it together ERIDAN: youvve got nothin to fear noww ivve reached a neww heights of powwer no one else can dream of […] SOLLUX: thii2 ii2 the mo2t hiilariiou2 thiing ii've ever heard, he made one of hii2 2hiitty fake wand2 glow a liittle and now he thiink2 he'2 a faiiry god troll or 2omethiing, lmao! ERIDAN: wwas that slander just i heard i cant evven tell ERIDAN: i tend to block out noise from filth wwhose blood is practically the complementary fuckin color a mine

I hate to admit it, but this behavior is actually fairly realistic. The whole world has collapsed, and Eridan is grasping for anything he can latch onto, to provide some semblance of normalcy.

Unfortunately, and predictably, he has latched onto classism like a limpet.

[dootznbootz]

that WHO in no longer u oh my GOD

YESSSS

Like, yeah, Odysseus is like "Yandere" (joking but also not) because kills all who even go near Penelope and Telemachus and he's very protective of them AND jealous.

But I think this "WHO?!" is also a desperate plea as to who is this dangerous man who is near his wife? A warlord? A conquerer? A man who would not even care about Penelope for who she is and mistreats her?

Because even in the Odyssey, Odysseus asks about Penelope to his mother.

Tell me of the wife I married. What are her thoughts and plans? Is she still there with our son, keeping watch on everything? Or has she been married                            to the finest of Achaeans?

(Book 11, Johnston)

There's not even much resentment in his question. There could be but Narrator does not say. The use of "the finest of Achaeans" almost is a "Did she at least marry the best man? Did she at least marry a GOOD man?"

In "No Longer You", when he hears of this dangerous man NEAR his wife, he is SCARED. It could be jealousy but I feel it's more of concern. As it is in the Odyssey.

"I understand if she would remarry, it pains me but I did tell her that when Telemachus finally grows his beard, she could. I will love her always but is she at least happy? Is she safe?"

And she's not safe. She's not happy. He is terrified.

Psst. The reason why My Odysseus takes a long time to grow his beard is because of that line. He's hoping that his son will take after him and take forever to grow a beard like he did (as he doesn't really have one even when he first leaves for Troy) because he would try forever to get home. Penelope even teases him that he still doesn't have one so that's a silly request and that's the point. "I will never stop trying to come back to you. He and I will likely remain beardless forever." (it's a little funky for him when he finally grows one by the end of Troy. He's thinking "...Shit. Telemachus, stay baby-faced for your dad please.")

ANYWAYS.

I mean we all know that these two are obsessed with each other in the Odyssey and in Epic. They are likeminded and are so integral to who they are. They mean everything to one another. I think Odysseus genuinely does want Penelope happy. As even in the Odyssey with him simply asking for another bed, shows how much he loves and respects her. He could've been like "get in it" even though she had rejected him at first but he LISTENS BECAUSE HE LOVES HER. Only breaking down into a sobbing mess when he believes she destroyed their bed.

"Heaven made you as you are, but for sheer obstinacy you put all the rest of your sex in the shade. No other wife could have steeled herself to keep so long out of the arms of a husband she had just got back after nineteen years of misadventure. Well, nurse, make a bed for me to sleep alone in. For my wife's heart is just about as hard as iron."

(Book 23, Rieu)

Please note that this is his attempt to insult her in a way and yet he still talks about her being from Heaven 👀 SIMP

But even though he's deeply hurt by her rejection (poor guy would've probably sobbed himself to sleep) He still asks for another bed. After sleeping on the floor and in the dirt since he's been on Ithaca, refusing beds unless it's his own marriage bed, he takes her 'no' because he values her happiness and comfort over his own. He takes a lesser bed so she can still sleep in their own luxurious one.

I mean we know how fucking awful the suitors are. Hold Them Down is a disturbing song. (as it should be. As they are not good men) He does not even know how bad these men are yet. If his future self could speak with his past self, he'd probably be like "Yeah, don't worry about the guy who kills a bunch of people, they had it coming. ;) " or something.

That "WHO?!" is a mix of jealousy AND fear.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Now Loading...

A short drabble in which Sukuna grapples with the fact he's going to be a dad

Sukuna had never wanted to be a dad. Why would he have any desire for that? A ball of snot and shit that rolled around on the floor and insisted on getting into everything? No thank you. He had other far better things to worry about. A child was out of the question.

So, it's really no surprise that you kept your pregnancy secret from him for so long. You may have been his favorite of the concubines, but you didn't think his favoritism extended that far. You'd seen other girls slaughtered for being cursed with a child, and were trying to avoid that fate for as long as possible. You couldn't avoid Sukuna though, not if you wanted to hold your spot as favorite. And that spot was the only chance you had of surviving this whole ordeal.

Sukuna wasn't an idiot, much to your dismay, and was very familiar with your body. The moment you started to show, he knew. And the resulting temper tantrum was nothing short of horrific. 

“And just how long were you planning on keeping this from me?!" He yelled so loud you could feel your soul shake. Tears streamed freely down your face as you tried to make yourself seem small.

"I don't know-" you confessed. 

"You don't know?!" He snapped, "you don't fucking know?! Do you think im stupid Y/n? Is that it? Did you think I wouldn't notice you were fucking pregnant?!" He punctuated his sentence with a punch to the wall, making what felt like the whole structure shake. 

"I'm sorry My Lord." You knew better than to try to defend yourself in this situation. Sometimes it was safe to push back against Sukuna. Sometimes he liked to play brat tamer, and remind you of your place in fun ways. Now was not one of those times. To challenge him now would be to meet whatever God it was you worshiped, or lack thereof. 

"You're sorry," He sneered, "you're so sorry, like that fucking fixes anything! Why wouldn't you tell me the moment you knew?!"

"I didn't want to upset you."

"You fucked that up when you got pregnant, whore." He scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking away in disgust. "Abhorrent girl, bringing a disgusting creature into my temple. Get out my sight until I can decide what to do with you."

You didn't need to be told twice. You rushed out of his throne room and back into the concubines quarters, just thankful to have your life. All in all, he took the news surprisingly well and it went better than you thought. You held your stomach as you worried about what your Lord would have done with your baby. With his baby. But, for now, you had survived the most dangerous part of all of this. Now you really just felt like you needed a nap.

Sukuna avoided you for weeks after that. It was harder than you thought to be on the other side of the avoidance game. You didn't realize how much you had grown to appreciate Sukuna’s attention until it was gone. You wondered what the hell he was up to, especially considering none of the other girls had been "blessed" with his attention either. 

He was too busy battling with his own internal demons. The part of him that wanted you dead for the creature you were brining into his temple- and the part of him that wondered what a baby from the two of you would look like. Would they have his cursed techniques? Would they have your eyes? This was the part of himself that he hated the fucking most. 

He was a ruthless warlord, he had no time for love or children or a family. And he definitely didn't have it in him to admit he'd grown soft for a fucking concubine of all things. How fucking pathetic of him. The only way he could rationalize any of this was to tell himself it was a for an heir. He wasn't going to live forever after all, might as well take this opportunity. Still, was really going to let a fucking whore mother his heir? There was only really one thing he could do. 

You still remember the ice in your veins as you realized all of the concubines had been gathered in the court yard for an execution. It made sense, he hadn't been with any of you for a month now- and for the other girls quadruple that. You had all just become extra mouths to feed. 

So then why weren't you down there with the rest of them? There was no hiding your swollen stomach now, if any of the concubines stood to be killed- it was you. But you had been tucked away safe from the executions in Ryomens sleeping quarters. Why? 

The answer came pretty quick as he joined you in his room. His face was unreadable, which chilled you more than any blizzard could have hoped for. Ryomen had always worn his emotions on his face, and you had always been able to read him as if he were a well loved book. This was out of your comfort zone. You didn't like this.

"I spoke to your father." He finally said.

"My father's alive?!" You gasped 

"Yeah, I was shocked too." He huffed, taking your hands in his. "You're to be my wife." He said rather bluntly as he looked into your eyes. There was no room for negotiation here, Sukuna made that clear. Despite yourself, you felt a wave of excitement surge through your body.

"I am?!" You asked, smilingly like a fool. He gave a rare, gentle smile back. And that's when you finally saw the softness in his eyes that was only reserved for you. 

"You are." He confirmed, "under the condition that you can birth me a healthy heir, that is." He said, placing an uncharacteristically gentle hand on your stomach. You knew without him having to say it that this was his best attempt at an apology. The future king of curses could never bring himself to say the words 'I'm sorry' or 'I was wrong.'  But, he could lovingly take you in his arms, and hope you got the message.

Ryomen was unnaturally tender in the days leading up to you giving birth. He had all of the best doctors on standby, and refused to leave your side. Anyone that so much as breathed wrong in your vicinity would have hell to pay. He didn't know what the fuck had gotten into him. All he knew was that as your stomach got heavier, his need to protect you and the life growing in you got more intense. Like some animalistic part of his brain knew a part of him was inside you, and to protect you was to protect himself. At least, that was how he rationalized it.

The day you gave birth he was a fucking mess. It killed him to listen to your screams of pain and be unable to do anything to help. All he could do was let you break his hand with your death grip, and reassure you you were doing amazing. Rare moments of his praise lost in the sounds of an agonizing labor. He didn't expect the relief that washed over him when he first heard his son cry, a sound he thought was going to be horrifically annoying some how sounding like music to his ears.

"Y/n, can you hear him?" He asked, mostly to make sure you were still alive. 

"Sadly." You were not as enthused by baby screaming as Ryomen was. You were decently pissed off when, after being cleaned and checked over, the baby was given to Ryomen instead of you. You were the one that carried that bitch for nine months, and had just spent hours to deliver him, you should get to hold him first!!

All of that melted away when you saw the look in your husband's eyes as he stared down at his new child. You had never seen Ryomens eyes twinkle, but they were absolutely sparkling now. It even took him off guard just how deeply he fell in love with the baby the moment they touched. Flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood, he was holding his entire future in his arms. His chest felt like it was going to implode from how tight it was, and- holy shit, was he holding back tears?!

"He's beautiful." Ryomen finally choked out.

"He looks just like you." You hummed. He chuckled and shook his head.

"No, not at all. He's too good to look anything like me. He's all you." You shook your own head at the blatant lie. That kid was carved from the exact same marble Ryomen was, but you had no energy to argue. 

Soft cries started to bubble up from baby boy as he stirred. Instinctively, you reached out for your son. It was almost reluctantly that Ryomen handed him over to you. You smiled as you pressed your newborn to your chest to feed him, finally getting a good look at the life you brought into this world. 

"Thought of any names?" You asked your husband. Ryomen paled a bit. He really hadn't. 

"None worthy of him." Technically it wasn't a lie. You chuckled softly. You expected such an answer. 

"What about Ryuu?" You asked, looking up at Ryomen.

"Ryuu?" He asked, mulling the name over. The name meant Dragon. It was strong, and noble. He could definitely see Ryuu Sukuna leading his armies into battle one day. He smiled and nodded. "I like it. Ryuu it is."

[gothgleek]

Agnus Tully- NSFW Alphabet

I do not own the Holdovers nor the images used in this post. All thoughts are my own. The borders are from @saradika-graphics

TW: sexual acts, kinks, parental issues, mention of mental hospitals, porn.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but not required 🌸🌼🌸

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Really cuddly and clingy but quiet. He’ll pepper you with kisses and praise, but he’s the one who needs more attention afterwards.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

We all know Agnus is a breast man. You will need to snap your fingers a few times before his eyes can tear away from looking down your shirt. Pervert.

He also LOVES biting them and marking you up.

His favorite part of himself is his legs. He takes a lot of pride of being tall and take any opportunity he can to show them off. Hence the James Bond trunks.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He has a paralyzing fear of parenthood but he LOVES cumming inside you unprotected. Especially if he can watch it drip out of you before he eats you out. He wouldn’t mind painting your tits with his cum either. He’ll take a pic of you like that too and ruin it later.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He steals your underwear and uses it to jerk off. He’s also into roleplay but he hasn’t found the right time to bring it up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

His only previous experience comes from porno mags. Maybe he had a partner or two in college, but I doubt it got anywhere emotionally. Regardless, you’re his first MAJOR relationship either as FWB or serious partners.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press. Pretzel dip. The butterfly. As long as he can stare into your eyes and have your legs in his hands, he will be a happy man. Also you against the wall, him in his knees so he can give you oral and try to make your legs shake.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Half his dirty talk is him being sarcastic shit. Other times he has to keep himself from laughing at your cum drunk expressions because he’s proud he did that to you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

This is the 70s so he’s trying to grow chest hair and a bush. However, he’s very particular and he trims himself.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Once he’s in love, he will make sure you know. However, he’s still Agnus so he might be a little shit about it. He’ll whisper sweet nothings while pounding you or while he teases you. Nonetheless, he’s his most romantic during aftercare.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As much as he tries to deny it, he loves jacking off. The dorms make it hard for him to do it as much as he wants but as soon as he’s whipping it out. He’s quick too, to the point he was worried he wouldn’t be able to control himself when he fucks you. Thankfully that’s not an issue.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Taking pics of you as we’ve established. Role-play as well. Due to his many boarding schools, he’s developed an appreciation for uniforms. He’s also warming up to having a minor religious kink. The two of you definitely role played as James Bond and a damsel before though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s got an exhibitionist kink in him so the woods and library are the most fun for him. One time the two of you fucked at an open air concert. But he loves fucking in his room so the two of you can nap and cuddle after.

He hates the beach though. He took you on a family vacation once and sand got everywhere when the two of you fucked.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Thank god for the sexual revolution and its hatred for bras. Low cut tops and kindness. That’s what attracts him to you. Also when you wear a low cut top and beat him at pinball, that’s when he is all over you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Restraining him (ropes, handcuffs, etc.) reminds him of his father so that’s a no-go. Maybe he’ll warm up to the idea of restraining you but not for a long time. Nurse roleplay he’s on the fence about because he could jack off to the idea or a pic of a sexy nurse but he could not get turned on irl for similar reasons. Also not fond of daddy kinks but would be open to a mommy kink. He’s not gonna talk to a therapist about it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves eating you out. And then you introduce him to rimming and he is excited about tasting more of you. He doesn’t even need to touch himself, he will rut against the bed while eating you out. He loves your blowjobs as well but he keeps his hands to himself, pulling his sheets and clawing the walls.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He actually prefers slow and sensual (though no less kinky). Why shouldn’t he take his time with you? Even if it’s a quickie his mouth is everywhere on you, drawing it out as much as possible.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

While he loves taking his time, he has an appreciation for quickies as well given the lack of privacy he’s always had. If you fucked before dating, it would’ve been mostly quickies but now that you’re together, it’s longer. He’s more willing to have a quickie when it’s a stressful time for the both of you (family trouble, finals week, traffic jam, etc.).

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

The great part about the 70s is the sexual revolution. He would be down to experiment with almost anything. Repression is known for creating super kinky people after all. Both of you keep notes about each place and position you’ve fucked, well well as a running list of what kinks you would try again.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

When you first get together, he doesn’t last very long but after a quick break, he’s ready to go again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Thanks to the sexual revolution (and his wallet), the two of you have more than enough toys. Unfortunately Google tells me sex toys were scary looking during this time so the once the excitement of sex toy shopping wears off, you really only stick to the vibrators. Maybe once nipple clamps are more popular, he’ll have you wear them as well. Your favorite toy to share is the famous hitachi massager.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves teasing you soooo much. He’s such an asshole about it too, teasing you anywhere from a car ride to the library to bed. He enjoys someone he can banter with too so he will take anything you’ve said to him and throw it back in your face later. Absolute menace.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s chatty at first (he LOVES dirty talk) but when he really gets into it, he will just be panting, all words lost. When he finishes, it’ll be a low moan in your ear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s a biter and will mark the hell out of you. Especially your thighs and breasts and ass. Also he had, at one point, made a sex playlist but stopped using it when he couldn’t hear you over the music.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Long but not girthy. Curved. Cut. Grower, not a shower. A nice little happy trail as well.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high. The poor guy is so touch starved, he can’t keep his hands off you. Even if he’s not horny, he acts like it and is always touching you, just so he can tease you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He needs to hold onto you before he falls asleep. He’s secretly romantic and likes to match your breathing and circle his thumb in your skin. When it’s a quickie though? He turns into the energizer bunny and won’t burn out until hours later.

[kiyomitakada]

Sayu

[shaking] you've activated my trap card

okay so first. a confession. sayu reminds me very strongly of a character from a different franchise i am obsessed with. if it feels like half of these answers are hallucinations of a world where death note is much more sayu-centric then that is why. but theoretically you shouldn't be able to tell so Don't Worry About It

favorite thing about them: HER GUILT COMPLEX THE SIZE OF THE SUN. it is implied for exactly two panels. im insane about it regardless.

she thinks being kidnapped was her fault! she thinks the death note falling into the mafia's hands is her fault! girl what is wrong with you!!!!

i also like that ohba iirc said she became extremely paranoid after the kidnapping. i think this is because — well first of all obviously she doesn't want to be kidnapped again, but second of all, if she were kidnapped again she's afraid her family will have to go through even more shit to get her back

least favorite thing about them: [light voice] sayu. ive taught you the quadratic formula at least five times by now. look, here's the proof again. can you not see the inherent beauty of completing the square? [sayu voice] oniichan the scary thing about you is im not even sure youre joking

favorite line: "well, i think you're quite handsome, matsuda." "huh? really, sayu?!" "yup, if only you weren't so old, i might have thought about going out with you. too bad." "URK"

i like that sayu is just as good at maneuvering social interaction as light is. i like that she manages to very successfully defuse the tension in the room with this joke (because sachiko and soichiro are both furious at the idea that their daughter would ever date a cop). you can physically feel the air lighten. i think sayu's had to do a lot of this ever since light left for six months and came back not quite whole.

i also think the fact that she's so good at this means she has to have picked up on the fact that light doesn't actually like misa, and the fact that she deliberately asks him about marriage anyway makes me feel Some Kind Of Way. more on this later

brOTP: i mean it HAS to be light and sayu. i am of the belief that she is the one person light loves more than anyone else in the world. im also of the belief that sayu doesn't know this considering that she thinks light abandoned them. they've never talked about this because they don't talk about anything important anymore.

OTP: the real answer to this question is sayu/reader because one of my first ever fic ideas for this fandom was for a reader-as-sayu's-situationship longfic that starts when sayu gets kidnapped and the reader insert, in a panic to get her back, forces her way onto the investigation team. however if we restrict ourselves to canon only i think that sayu has had the world's worst most misery-inducing unrequited crush on misa ever since she was fifteen. also more on this later

nOTP: unironic matsu/sayu i guess?? i dont think ive ever seen this around though. i ship matsu/sayu the way i ship yaga/mane

random headcanon: she came out to light as attracted to girls (i can never decide if she's gay or bi or pan or what, but she definitely Likes Women) when she was thirteen, and once he got over the surprise light was genuinely fairly accepting of this. he teases her about cute girls at her school constantly. she's still not out to her parents though

unpopular opinion: god her arc is such a tragedy. i don't know if this is unpopular among the fans but im like 99% sure it's unpopular among the creators, i.e. ohba and obata did not do this on purpose. her becoming drastically less mischievous and more mature* in second arc is meant to show that she's twenty years old and all grown up now, does her essays by herself, and so on and so forth. it just so happens that i can and will interpret this as her watching her brother slip further and further away until one day he doesn't come home at all and suddenly the onus of keeping her parents happy rests solely on herself. little sister to eldest daughter speedrun!!!

(*there's probably a lot to be said about how many of o&o's "morally good" female characters, including some i've heard about in bakuman, fall into this Gentle, Mature stereotype. [not all! halle lidner i love you! but many.] they accept that their role in society is to play second fiddle to a man forever. all this is to say that basically i think sayu's arc2 personality is meant to symbolize that she's grown up to be The Perfect Woman and that it's a positive thing; however when you take the misogyny goggles off it reads exactly like repression)

i also think her opinion of misa is much more complicated than fanon gives her credit for? it's like

[canonical] wow my brother's girlfriend is really pretty and wow she doesn't dress modestly at all (<- was raised in a fairly conservative household and gets shocked by things like these)

[canonical] hi misa, i saw you in a lot of magazines! [headcanonical] i looked up my brother's girlfriend and found her website and then went to the corner store and bought all her magazines. for research purposes. 'cause i want to know what's up with this girl who's the first my know-it-all brother has ever been serious about. no other reason!

[off-screen canon: light calls sachiko and tells her that he's decided to live on his own with misa, "but my stubborn dad would be totally against it, so i'm going to be out of contact for a while" (chapter 34)]

[L dies, light moves in with misa for real, timeskip]

[canonical] "oh, light and misa. it's rare that you both come over together." [headcanonical/implied] misa spends time with the other yagamis outside of light? often?

[canonical] "you have a career now, light. when are you going to think about marriage?" okay 1) who are you and what have you done with sayu "light has a girlfriend?! wow!" yagami. 2) as aforementioned i truly believe sayu is smart enough to notice light doesn't like misa, like, he is not subtle about it. so:

[headcanonical] sayu, in a feat of retroactive justification her brother would be proud of, is determined to get yagamane to actually like each other because if they don't then why did light abandon them for so long?

[extremely headcanonical] sayu, in a feat of repression her brother would also be proud of, has decided that surely her crush of five years will go away if misa just marries light for real and becomes definitively unavailable forever.

christ that was longer than i thought it'd be. why didn't i just put this in the otp section

but anyway i think there are a lot of ways you could interpret their dynamic outside of my headcanons. i really like this fic which instead proposes that sayu hates her and is also incredibly in character!

song i associate with them: as i put in sachiko's answer she's soooooo "if you could coddle the infection they can amputate at once / i should've been i could have been a better son" to me. gestures back at the guilt complex. gestures back at the way she becomes so socially savvy to make up for light not even bothering to pretend to like misa. almost like she's making herself a replacement for the yagami family forever losing their perfect son archetype. im normal.

favorite picture of them:

she's so cute here

[keyboardsmashess]

The Siren, or The Heart of the Matter

Chapter Thirty Two: The Intervention, or Righting Some Wrongs

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: language, fluff, angst, canon-typical violence, smut, implied abuse MINORS DNI. A/N: Second-to-last chapter, my loves 🥲 Can you believe it?? I just started working on my next project, though, and it's in the same universe as this one! So don't fret, you'll see our Cleo and Bucky again ❤️

Summary: Cleo and Bucky tie up a loose end and start to learn what life looks like after... everything.

Chapter Directory

Avengers minus Thor (only use when 🔨 off-planet or to talk shit about Loki)

Katniss: Where is everybody?

Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist: I’m in the lab with the doc

Giant Green Rage Monster: We’re looking over some of the tech from the sub, trying to figure out how Sapros got his powers.

Katniss: Hard pass ✋

Katniss: Anyone else?

Nat TonyifyouchangemynameagainIsweartogod Romanov: I’m in the gym practicing my knife-throwing.

Nat TonyifyouchangemynameagainIsweartogod Romanov: I could use a moving target if you want to join me.

Katniss: You know, we used to be fun 😞

Katniss: Clucky? What are y’all up to?

Lite Brite: What in the flying fuck is a Clucky?

Katniss: It’s your couple name - Cleo + Bucky = Clucky 👩‍❤️‍👨

Lite Brite: Kill it with fire.

Katniss: Listen, I don’t make the rules 🤷

Loverboy: Where are you, Barton?

Katniss: … I don’t think I want to hang out anymore

Katniss: Very busy. Lots to do.

Loverboy: I’m asking for a completely non-violent reason.

Katniss: Nope. Byeeeee 👋

Lite Brite: I think you should be wearing significantly less clothing.

Lite Brite: OMG NO NO NO

Lite Brite: THIS WAS THE WRONG CHAT

Lite Brite: NOBODY READ THAT

Lite Brite: BRB changing my name and moving to Mozambique

Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist: 🤮

Katniss: 🤮

Nat TonyifyouchangemynameagainIsweartogod Romanov: Barf.

Loverboy: 😏

Captain Underpants: I’m going to ask Maria to schedule a training about workplace boundaries. Sincerely, Steve Rogers

******

The Quinjet touches down in an abandoned parking lot on the outskirts of my hometown, and Bucky reaches out to grab my hand, stilling my nervously fiddling fingers. “We can turn around and go home right now,” he says.

I shake my head. “No. I have to do this.”

Natasha gives me a feral grin. “Good, I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Nat,” I say, eyeing the plethora of weapons on her belt. “Do you really need that many knives?”

She shrugs. “I like to be prepared for any possible outcome.”

Clint grins and hefts the quiver full of various tricked-out arrows. “Twinsies.”

“Are you forgetting that you’re only here for backup?” I say, looking at them pointedly.

Steve pats my arm with a gentle smile on his face. “I think this is how they cope with their anger,” he says, nodding to our friends. “But don’t worry, we know the mission - you and Buck take the lead.”

Tony sighs, chewing on a piece of an apple. “I still think you should let me go the corporate espionage route and financially ruin him. Takes a bit longer, but the fallout is so satisfying.”

Bucky comes up behind me and takes my hand, squeezing it once in a comforting gesture. I had been reluctant to share any of the information he and Nat had found on my stepfather with the rest of the team, but after the submarine - after getting Bucky back and finding out about my dad… Well, I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf. I’m trying to share more, much to my therapist’s delight. It’s disgusting and horrible, but also kind of great.

I survey my assembled friends, none of them besides Bucky and I necessary for the mission, but all of them here for me - with me - just the same. I give them a grateful smile. “We all know I’m shit at mushy stuff, but… thanks, guys.”

Clint mimes wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Oh my god, that was so beautiful.”

I roll my eyes and Nat punches him in the shoulder. “You ready for this?” she asks me.

I tap my glasses, helmet extending into place over my head to match the suit I’m already wearing. “As I’ll ever be.”

Bucky and I draw more than a few stares as we walk up the street of gaudy McMansions leading to my mother and Robert’s house. He’s quite the sexy intimidating sight, in the black tactical suit that leaves his metal arm on full display. And though I absolutely love it, the Sirensuit isn’t exactly subtle, either.

“Ten bucks says we’re on a gossip blog within the next hour.”

I huff a laugh, knowing he’s trying to distract me from our task. “A whole hour? I say no more than thirty minutes.”

His eyes crinkle in my favorite version of his smile - the one that tells me how much he adores me - and he shrugs a shoulder. “Fair enough.”

As we near my parents’ front door, my crystal starts to throb. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath. 

“We can turn back any time,” Bucky reminds me, and I open my eyes and nod.

“I know,” I say. “It’s fine. I’m ready.”

My mother’s car is absent from the driveway, just as we’d planned, so when I ring the doorbell, I know the approaching footsteps are Robert’s.

“Wha- Cleo? Is that you? And Sergeant - what are you doing here?”

I tap my glasses again, helmet retracting. I’d wanted to wear it as an intimidating shield, I suppose, but here - facing him - I decide that I want him to have to look me in the eye. “We’re here for something that is long overdue, Robert.” I stride past him into the house, not waiting for an invitation, and Bucky follows behind me.

Standing in the middle of the foyer, I pull out the device Tony gave me and click the button. Holographic versions of the files Bucky and Nat assembled blink to life in the air between Robert and I, and I watch the blood drain from his face.

“What the hell is this, Cleo?” he asks, clearly aiming for anger but sounding more like a scared little boy.

I casually flick through the pages, showing him the sheer quantity of data we have at hand. “This is a lot of things,” I say, voice deceptively light. “The police might call it evidence.” He blanches, but I continue. “My team might call it a reason to Avenge.” Pages fly by, and I watch the reflection of the collected information flicker in Robert’s wide, fearful eyes. “You might call it a rather large skeleton in your closet. But me,” I say, spreading my fingers to zoom in on a photo from my childhood. “I call it the beginning of a story.”

With a wave of my hand, the hologram disappears, and I return the device to my pocket. “And today, Robert, we’ve reached the ending.”

His fearful eyes dart between Bucky and I, but Bucky remains (as we discussed) standing in front of the door with folded arms, backup if I need it but otherwise simply a blockade. A very, very angry blockade.

I lift my hands, levitating off the ground, and Robert shrinks before me, a shadow of the man who once brought me so much pain. Reaching one hand forward, I squeeze my fingers, Robert’s airway constricting as I do, and he scrabbles at his throat with his own hands, clawing at empty air. Bucky says nothing, and as Robert’s face turns a deep red, I know he would remain stoically silent and allow me to play this thing through to the end, if that's what I wanted. Robert’s face turns purple now, and I imagine he’s starting to see spots in his vision. His pants darken and I realize he’s wet himself in fear. All the while, Bucky stands at my back, allowing me to choose - always allowing me to choose.

After one more moment to take in the scene before me, I wave my hands and Robert inhales a gasp of air, falling to the floor as tears leak from the corners of his eyes. My feet gently touch down on the hardwood of the foyer, and as Robert wimpers on the floor, I pull a letter out of my pocket and arrange it carefully on the key table. My mother’s name is written on the envelope.

I take a step toward Robert and he scrambles backward in an awkward crab-crawl, eyes wide in terror. My hands haven’t touched him once - a courtesy he did not extend to me - and yet he still cowers in fear before me. My face is grim as I look down at him. “You have no power over me anymore, Robert, and you never will again.”

Sirens wail in the distance as Bucky and I exit the house, hand in hand, leaving the front door wide open. The police can close it when they’re finished.

******

As always, Meg answers on the first ring. “Cleo? How’d it go?”

I hope she can sense my grin through the phone. “It was everything, Meggie. I finally feel like I have closure, whatever the hell that is.”

She sighs, relieved, and sounds much less tense when she speaks again. “Did… did you take him out?”

I laugh, loud and unrestrained, and she makes a little sound of offense. “You don’t have to speak in code, weirdo. You have a secure phone now, remember?”

“Alright, then, did you kill the bastard?”

I laugh again at her matter-of-fact tone. “No, I didn’t.”

“But whyyyyy?” Meg whines. 

“He isn’t worth it. I - I know what it feels like, now, to do that,” I say, picking at my fingernail. “And he’s not worth the pain it would cause me. Leaving him to rot in prison is enough.”

She sighs. “God, when did you become so damn reasonable?”

“If it helps, I scared the piss out of him. Literally.”

“Now we’re talking,” she says, and I really can sense her grin through the phone. “Tell me everything.”

******

Natasha Romanov has added you to a new group chat 💬

Intervention

Romanov: This is an intervention.

Barton: We love Clucky - really we do 🙏

Barton: But enough is enough 🛑

Rogers: I told you I didn’t want to be a part of this. Sincerely, Steve Rogers

Stark: Wait, what’s happening?

Romanov: We’re holding an intervention to tell Cleo and Bucky to stop eye-fucking each other in public places.

Stark: Oh hell yeah, count me in. Those two are gross.

Stark: I do miss the nicknames, though. You have no panache, Romanov.

Blake: Cleo can’t come to the phone right now because she’s changed her name and moved to Mozambique. Leave a message at the beep. BEEEEEEP.

Barnes: This is ridiculous, you guys. We’re not that bad.

Banner: … it has been kind of a lot

Blake: Et tu, Bruce?

Stark: What happened to Mozambique?

Blake: 😑

Barnes: Mind your own business and let us be happy.

Barton: I would, but now I can’t enter the gym without having flashbacks of you two on the weight bench 🤮

Rogers: Maria says the MANDATORY workplace boundary training is going to be next Thursday at 2:00 PM. Sincerely, Steve Rogers

Rogers: Also, did someone clean the weight bench? Sincerely, Steve Rogers

******

“Now I know where you get it from,” Bucky says.

“Hm?” I look up from the stack of papers to see him setting an impossibly heavy box of books down next to me.

“Your book hoarding.”

I huff a small laugh, smiling up at him. “Why do you think I fell in love with a supersoldier? Who else is going to carry all my books for me?”

He rolls his eyes but bends down to kiss me, distracting me for just a few moments. Or minutes.

Finally, I pull back, placing a hand on his chest to keep him from chasing my lips with his own. “Down, boy. I have a lot of work to do.”

Bucky crosses his arms. “You’re the only one setting a deadline.”

I sigh. “I know, but if I keep putting it off, I’m afraid I’ll chicken out and leave this stuff in storage forever.”

His eyes soften. “Alright, I’m sorry. I’ll stop distracting you.” He sits down in a chair on the opposite side of the desk and pulls a stack of papers toward himself. “Where do we start?”

I look up at him again, eyebrows knit. “What do you mean, where do we start?”

Bucky grins crookedly. “Well, I know I’m not as smart as you, but I figure four hands are still better than two. Put me to work, Dr. Blake.”

Now I’m the one who causes the distraction, leaning across the desk to plant a grateful kiss on his lips. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

In an effort to keep me on their good side, given the inevitable blowback from the media surrounding the employment of a HYDRA operative as a tenured professor, Culver decided to waive the requirement that I present my thesis to a committee in order to graduate. They accepted the final draft of the written copy immediately, and I had my degree by the end of the day - no ceremony required. I’m mostly relieved that I didn’t have to jump through that particular hoop, but part of me is still a little disappointed. I suppose it doesn’t really matter in the end, though, as I’ve committed to remaining an Avenger for the foreseeable future.

I sigh, looking at Bucky. “I don’t really know where to start, to be honest. I’ve just been reading through everything and trying to organize it chronologically, for lack of a better system.”

He nods, thumbing through the stack of papers in front of him. “What do you want to do with everything once it's organized?”

I frown. “I hadn’t really gotten that far.”

“Maybe figuring that out will help you decide how to move forward.”

I cast my eyes around the room Tony is letting me use to store my father’s research. It’s full to the brim, and it’s absolutely overwhelming. “I just… If I make a decision about what I’m going to do with his things, it’s like I’m…” I rub at my eyes. “It’s like I’m making it real, that he’s gone.”

Bucky nods, understanding in his gaze. “Yeah, I get that. But Cleo, you have to give yourself permission to not be ready yet. It isn’t going anywhere, and you have a whole bunch of people in your corner willing to help you when the time is right.”

I reach across the table and take his left hand, running a thumb over his metal fingers absently. “Now you sound like Dr. Benally.”

He smiles. “Well, she’s a smart woman. And generally speaking, if your therapist tells you something, it means it’s a good idea.”

I level a flat gaze at him. “Oh, so you listen to everything Dr. Raynor tells you?”

“Uh,” he says, freezing. “On second thought, there’s no time like the present.” He grabs the stack of papers again and starts reading them with gusto.

I giggle and push back from the desk. “I’m teasing. You - you’re right. I don’t think I’m ready, just yet.”

Bucky stands and takes two large steps to reach me, pressing a tender kiss to my temple. “I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, and he laughs, throwing an arm around my shoulders to lead me out of the room.

“Y’know, since you aren’t busy anymore, I had some ideas for how we could fill the time,” he says, raising an eyebrow at me.

Heat pools in my belly instantly at his words alone, and I pick up the pace. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You might be smarter than me, Sergeant Barnes.”

He groans, and we all but sprint to his apartment. 

I really could get used to this.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi there!!! I was wondering if you happened to have any fics where Crowley calls Aziraphale ‘sweetheart’? Any other pet names are amazing (including angel of course) but I’m just very in love with the idea of Crowley calling Aziraphale sweetheart

Thank you so much for all you hard work!! This blog is a lifesaver <3

Hello! We have a #pet names tag you might enjoy, but here are some fics in which Crowley calls Aziraphale sweetheart...

Four times Crowley called Aziraphale "sweetheart" without noticing (and One time he did) by TheLadyZephyr (NR)

"Sweetheart" (1290) - A person who is very dear to another; one who is loved. From sweet (adj.) + heart (n.) Over the years, Crowley has called Aziraphale "sweetheart" on at least four different occasions. He just hasn't actually noticed himself saying it.

In love, I am, with everything you do by 2ambiace (G)

Following the phone call with Crowley during lockdown, Aziraphale contemplates the letter he wrote and whether he should've taken Crowley up on his offer to 'slither over' and watch him eat cake. Aziraphale finds the courage in his love for Crowley to invite the demon over and cake and love confessions and kisses are shared.

Let Our Epilogue Be Soft And Sweet by Tenoko1 (T)

Crowley hit his palm against the steering wheel. “Of course I’d get upset, angel! Those bastards have tried to kill you twice, Aziraphale! Twice! I spend every damn day worried they might try again! Now-- Now-- your conveniently found and rescued angel is on the loose,” the road forked, and they veered off to a smaller country road, flying past a sign Aziraphale didn’t need to see to recognize, though Crowley gestured wildly to it, “in a god-forsaken national park? Well outside of London where no one can hear you scream? This mystery angel that just so happens to be leaking grace and emoting a distress signal so loud you can still sense it?” Crowley dragged a hand down his face. “Angel, sweetheart. Wake up and smell the trap.”

Waking Up Married by Caedmon (E)

"So you’re telling me that my options are either to convince this man I just met and drunkenly married to stay married to me for six months or lose two thirds of a billion pounds?” “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Fergus said. “Fucking shit,” Crowley spat. He hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment before rubbing his eyes with his fists. Now his job would be twice as hard. He needed to talk Aziraphale into staying married for six months. Should he try begging or bribing? This was a huge ask, and Aziraphale would be well within his rights to tell Crowley to fuck off. But Crowley was prepared to offer him pretty much anything, up to half of the trust, if that’s what it took. He didn’t care. But that was only part of his concern. Even if he got insanely lucky and Aziraphale agreed to stay legally married to him for the next six months, how the hell was he going to talk Aziraphale into dating him during that time? And was it foolish to even try? One thing at a time, he decided. First, he needed to convince Aziraphale to stay legally married to him. Then he could set about wooing his husband. He hoped.

flightless by viperinz (T)

Crowley finds Aziraphale injured and without his wings long after he stops the Second Coming all on his own. He just didn't expect their reunion to be so morose, and so final.

Sugar And Spice by ladydragona, SylWritesStuff (E)

Queer technology giant Anthony J. Crowley is just about ready to throw in the towel after relationship after relationship has failed, but there's a new barista at the company coffee shop and he's cute and sweet and Crowley's never been able to resist blond hair and blue eyes. The tabloids will have a field day, they always do, but his assistant is getting married and a temp is needed. A temp who really isn't very good at making complicated coffees, has past experience in reception, and absolutely no idea that the latest complicated coffee order came from the owner himself. Aziraphale only knows that he's handsome, patient, and was the first person who told him he was doing well. How could he refuse the temp position? Or, he soon discovers, more.

- Mod D

[underhousearrestblog]

Lost In Translation | Pedro Pascal

(summary) a drunk confession makes things weird between you and Pedro

(warnings) an age gap (oh the horror)

(pairings) Pedro Pascal x reader

(genre/ tropes) angst, lemon-y fluff, miscommunication, mutual pining, friends to lovers

(word count) 7.7k

(also) Pedro’s point of view (of sorts) is in Italics

(also) minors, scram (I’m kidding. Kinda. I was reading these types of things when I was twelve. I’m not the one to advise anything. Just, please, don’t interact. Better for my conscience and your digital footprint.)

(also) damn – I’m actually doing something here now... a step up from my usual one-post-per-six-months activity...

HAPPY READING!

Things around you blurred, people’s faces were distorted and music was giving you a headache. You lost count how many drinks you had about an hour ago and now you were regretting having any.

Your friends – who were more work acquaintances than friends – had ditched you, you had no car that you wouldn’t be able to operate in this condition anyway and not enough money to call a cab. All you had were a very revealing dress with a deep cut up your right thigh and a phone with around twenty percent charge left.

You stepped outside. Evening air did some but still not enough good for you to feel confident enough to walk those two and a half kilometers to your apartment building. Especially not in these knee-high boots. You would probably end up murdered. Or murdering yourself by accidentally stepping in front of a car. Either way, in a ditch.

You checked over you contacts for anyone who would pick up a phone and pick you up at the club at this ungodly hour. Since you had moved, most of your contacts were pretty much useless for this type of shit.

You pulled out your wallet. There were several business cards that you had gotten since you had started to work as a PR manager for The Last Of Us production team. Your eyes scanned over some of the names. Nico Parker. You weren’t sure she even got her license yet. Bella Ramsey. You knew for a fact she didn’t have a car.

Pedro Pascal.

Shit.

Well, from a purely objective stance, he was the best choice. He could pick you up and he didn’t give creepy vibes so technically you should be fine.

The problem was – he probably didn’t even know who you were. You had been on, like, two lunches with him with purely professional intentions. There had been more people from both the cast and the PR team and, even though you had spoken to him one-on-one multiple times, he had these types of conversations every day.

Worst he could do was say no.

To be fair, he could theoretically also cuss you out.

Or look at an unknown number and not even pick up.

Before you let your mind talk itself out of it, your fingers typed in his number and called.

It was quite chilly, now that you were out in dark alley with only your stripper dress on. It was pretty but god was it doing a shit job at keeping you warm.

The phone was calling and after the very first ring, you started to doubt yourself.

Maybe it would be less embarrassing if you just called your boss? Sure, she would know you indulged in an occasional living of your life but she was a woman and maybe would be more sympathetic than most of the men you worked with...

Two-

- Y/N? – unprepared for Pedro to actually pick up, you startled.

Your brain was foggy from all the alcohol and your body was still trying to decipher the sudden temperature drop so it took you several seconds to even put words together.

- Hey, are you alright? – it was actually him.

He really picked up at a quarter to midnight.

How did he know who was calling?

- Hey, Pedro, - up until this point you had used the formal “Mr. Pascal” just like everybody in your team but now it would feel weird. – So I have a bit of a... situation?

What was the term for getting drunk and placing all your trust in people that you had met two weeks ago?

- Are you alright? – he sounded worried. – Where are you?

Not wanting to appear nervous yourself, you tried to put on a smile, hoping it would make your voice sound lighter and careless.

- I’m at the... – you looked over your shoulder at the sign in front of the club, - Sensual Vibes, - you cringed at the name.

He definitely thinks you’re at a strip club.

- It’s a bar downtown. And I’m kinda drunk and I don’t really have any money, and my asshole friends left, and I’m also kinda col-

- Do you need me to pick you up? – he didn’t sound mad.

If anything – he sounded almost careful. As if he didn’t want to push any boundaries by insisting.

You were silent for a second.

Why was it so hard for you to ask for help when it was clear you desperately needed it?

Fucking pride.

You can cringe in shame tomorrow when you haven’t been murdered trying to walk home drunk...

- Yeah, - you said quietly before adding, - but it’s totally fine if you can’t. I’m sure two kilometers of walking will be fine if I can get off these stripper shoes-

- I’ll be there in twenty, - he said in a voice that left no arguments. – Go back inside. I’ll come in and get you.

- Who was that? – Oscar asked, stuffing the leftover pizza back into the box.

- Y/N, - Pedro put away his phone and went to get his car keys.

- Y/N? Who the fuc-

His hand stopped halfway to close the lid.

- Oh shit, - Oscar laughed, turning towards his friend. – Is that the girl from the PR team? It’s that Y/N?

Pedro didn’t answer and went to get his jacket. Oscar, in true friend fashion, followed him into the hallway, while teasing:

- Is that the same girl who still calls you Mr. Pascal even though you corrected her, like, thousand times?

Pedro just rolled his eyes.

This wasn’t exactly new. Oscar had never really met you – at least, in person – though there was abundance of information regarding you given by his friend every time Pedro had a drop of alcohol in his system.

- You know, if you weren’t so famous, I’d think she actually didn’t even know your first name by how much she uses the surname... – Oscar went back to pick up the leftover pizza, before turning back and looking at his friend suspiciously. – Are you sure she meant to call you? I mean, if she called you by your name, the call might have been meant for another Pedro. All I’m saying is-

Pedro threw him a dark look and turned to leave. Could that be true? You never really called him by his name and he was almost one hundred percent sure you didn’t even have his number...

- Lock up before you leave, - Pedro murmured before opening the door.

You were drunk and alone so, either way, you’ll have to make peace with it.

Once Pedro had ended the call, all you could do was blankly stare at the screen. To be fair, you were very intoxicated so... could you had hallucinated this whole conversation?

Either way – waiting inside was probably the best choice here...

You dropped down on a sofa in the foyer. You felt a headache coming on.

God, this is gonna be embarrassing...

After fifteen minutes of waiting and contemplating about leaving on your own, a hand lightly touched your shoulder, making you startle yet again. You had been way too focused on a painting on the wall to notice anybody approaching.

- Pedro? – your eyebrows shot up as if you were surprised that the person who you had called had actually shown up.

- Were you waiting for someone else? – there was a note in his voice you couldn’t quite decipher and your foggy mind refused to cooperate.

- N-no, - you stammered out. – I just wasn’t sure you would actually show up...

Now was his turn to look surprised. He opened his mouth to say something but, when you lightly swayed on your feet, he quickly put an arm around your shoulders to steady you.

When he lightly pressed his palm on the skin between your shoulder blades, a small shiver ran through your body, making you look up at him. He had probably seen or feel you shiver and had interpreted that as you being cold which was technically true. He pulled off his jacket that looked way too big for you.

You were by no means model-thin but the jacket was oversized on him so it looked like it would end up around your knees.

You shook your head.

- I’m not taking your jacket after you drove all this w-

- Don’t argue, - was all he said before lifting your arm, pulling the sleeve over it and then repeating the same on the other side. – And it’s still longer than that pretty thing you call a dress, - his eyes ran over your half-naked body.

Not in a leering way. But he did gulp when his eyes touched on the slit across your thigh.

Great, there’s no getting this out of memory, he chastised himself for enjoying and savoring you while you were very clearly drunk.

Shit, he’s probably uncomfortable, was all you could think about.

His car was pleasantly warm. You managed to climb in on your own but when it came to the seatbelt, you fingers still lacked focus and were stiff. After two unsuccessful attempts at connecting the two parts, Pedro gently peeled your fingers from the belt, reached over and buckled you in himself.

Before he could step back, you placed your hand on his bicep to stop him. The touch itself was innocent enough but you felt your skin lightly tingling as if you had touched a wire with low charge.

Pedro’s eyes followed you to where your skin had touched his. All he could do was stare at your fingers around his arm.

- Shit, sorry, - you decided he was probably uncomfortable and withdrew your hand, - sorry, I didn’t mean-

- It’s fine-

- I just wanted to say thank you, - your gaze held his. – I don’t know what I would’ve done otherwise.

There was something intoxicating in doing favors for you. He would’ve driven to pick up any of the women he knew if they were drunk and alone but your trust in him made him a bit delirious.

He wanted you to call him if you ever needed to get home drunk but he also wanted to drive you to a meaningless appointment and pick you up after work.

- It’s fine, - he swallowed before stepping back. – You’re welcome.

He could hear Oscar’s teasing voice in his head, telling him how absurdly romantic it was for him to simp after a girl who probably read his number off a business card when hers had been cataloged in his phone since day one. He probably could recall it from memory at this point.

Pedro closed the door on your side and walked around to get into the driver’s seat. He tried to take in some of the chilling evening air before getting in.

- ... and my friend said just go up to him and ask him out, - he heard you say once he got in, - but every time I looked at his pretty face I chicked out... – you hiccuped, - chic... chickened out! And then-

Your words were slurred and half-coherent.

Pedro started the car, pulled out of the parking lot and then threw a glance at you.

- Who were you trying to ask out?

- I wasn’t trying... And he wouldn’t come anyway...

Alcohol had made you braver and in a stupid attempt to rip your own band-aid off, you turned towards Pedro and whispered in an almost broken voice:

- Would you go on a date with me?

You needed his answer. Tomorrow was gonna be shameful but you could, at least, write this off as a drunken mistake. You had finally done it, you had finally gathered all your courage and taken a step-

But it was the way you had said it. With the accent on the word ‘you’. All Pedro heard was your confession about liking another man and how busy he was, and now you looked at him with glossy eyes and it made him wonder if this stupid man you were talking about had said something to make you insecure. You had just confessed about your crush and needed confirmation that other men – smarter men – would still date you.

But knowing that you trusted him enough to take you home drunk, he knew he couldn’t just confess about wanting you for himself. That was a dick move used by every false male friend around the world.

- I... – you watched his throat work, as he was putting words together, then he ripped his gaze away from where you sat in his car, in his jacket, for the first time ever giving him your undivided attention. – I think you’re amazing and any man would be lu-

Your eyes burned with unshed tears. His figure got distorted through the rapidly increasing moisture.

You are amazing.

Any man would be lucky to date you.

Not me though.

Last one wasn’t said out loud but, in your defense, it was usually never spelled out when a person was rejecting someone.

This was a rejection speech.

He was giving you a rejection speech!

You lifted your hand to silence him. He immediately did and you looked out through the window on your side.

- Please, don’t, - your voice broke at the end. – I respect you way too much and don’t want to start saying things I don’t mean while drunk.

It was said and done.

You had asked and he had rejected you. Work’s gonna be a bitch but PR, thankfully, was a team effort so you could probably take meetings with another member of the cast and make one of your colleague meet with Pedro. Eventually, your stupid little feelings would stop hurting and you would move on.

Eventually.

Until then you probably should avoid Pedro every chance you got.

It was said and done.

Even drunk, you had realized his incurable crush on you and in a very “I’m well-versed in public relations” manner had put an end to his confession. What was it that you had said? I respect you way too much...

Respect you way too much to outright say “no”.

You had a crush on a man you worked with. Probably someone your age. Probably someone who’s life wasn’t constantly dissected on every media platform.

You were a real pretty girl so even if you never gathered the courage to take the first step, that man you talked about would probably do it for you. He would be stupid not to.

Which meant that at some point you would be seen on set, laughing and kissing some other man who probably had no idea for how long you had lusted after him. And Pedro knew that if your crush forgot what he’s got, he would be way too tempted to teach him a lesson or two about not throwing away life’s biggest treasures.

Maybe even way too tempted to put the fear of god into that man. To threaten to never dare to break your pretty little heart.

But you had good taste in most things. And the man you were talking about asking out was probably good. More than good. He probably was respectful in public and would make you scream his name in private. Buy you a nice dress and later rip it off your body. Pick you up to take you places and then wait patiently for you to come back to him.

You deserved the best. And you were probably way too good for that boy you liked. Granted, Pedro thought you were way too good for basically everyone, including himself, but he also wasn’t one of those men that would pass on an amazing woman all because “she’s too good for him”.

Nah. He knew he would greedily accept your love and lust if only you offered. He might have thought you were too good for him but he also knew there were many things he could provide for you. He was successful, had money, a stable job, he was mature and wouldn’t play any games. Besides, he was damn near sure he loved you and even with you reciprocating just half of that love and affection, it still would be perfect.

- What’s your add-

Once he looked over to where you were watching him just a minute ago, Pedro found you fast asleep with your head pressed against the window. His jacket, way too big for you, had fallen down your shoulder, revealing that distractingly little napkin you bravely called a dress.

Shit.

This was definitely not good.

If he had to bring you back to his home, he knew he would see ghosts of you every time he stepped inside his own house. And that would be bad. Right now you were already everywhere at work, he couldn’t afford to let you make yourself at home in his private space too. Damage would take months to undo.

He contemplated waking you up but even then there would be no guarantee that you would even remember where you lived in this condition.

Pedro started driving towards his own home slower than necessary, hoping you would wake up at some point and give him your address.

All he could hope for was that Oscar had already left because, otherwise, Pedro would never hear the end of this...

Shitshitshit.

Your head was hurting even before you opened your eyes. That was never a good thing. Once you did, you were met with a semi-dark room that was vaguely lit by a small lamp left on on the nightstand.

Where the fuck where you?

This looked way too homey to be a hotel and way too impersonal to be someone’s bedroom. You lifted the thick blanket that was draped over you to check out if you weren’t missing any clothes. Or some more important things, like body parts.

Your eyebrows shot up in confusion when you were met with the same light blue dress you had worn at the club with just more wrinkles in it now. All you were missing where the boots that you saw placed by the bed.

You checked the small alarm clock on the nightstand.

5:06 AM.

It was early.

On a day off, you probably wouldn’t have woken up this early but your body had most likely dealt with the alcohol in your system and had woken up naturally once you had sobered up.

Then you noticed the small note placed next to the clock.

I’m not sure how much you remember but I picked you up from a club. You didn’t give me an address before passing out, so I brought you home with me. You’re in my guest bedroom. I’m in the one down the hall. I got you some aspirin and water. And some clothes.

Pedro.

There was something else written on the paper but it was scribbled out. You lifted the note and placed it before the small lamp, letting the light shine through.

Cute dress.

You smiled, however that smile lasted for exactly one second before you remembered the conversation in the car. You had asked Pedro on a date. He had given you the “there’s more fish in the sea” speech.

God.

You had excused your bravery with “you can live today and be embarrassed tomorrow” but now, when tomorrow was finally here, you weren’t sure it was actually worth it.

Thank god you didn’t work closely with Pedro because this would be ten times more awkward if you were an actress.

You quickly changed into the clothes Pedro had left for you. It was a white t-shirt with something spelled in a foreign language you didn’t understand. The shirt reached down to your knees and covered more than your dress had. You could technically leave in just the t-shirt but your sudden sobriety would probably result in you freezing to death so you decided to wear sweatpants as well. You rolled up the ends of the pants that were too long, threw a glance in the mirror and decided that you looked presentable enough.

Once you left the guest room with the dress still in your hand, you tried to find out if Pedro had already woken up. It seemed unlikely. It was very early.

And that seemed to be the truth, as none of the lights were on in neither the kitchen nor the living room. Or in the hallway.

Thank god the key was still in the door and you didn’t have to wake him up to unlock the door. You carefully tiptoed through the hallway and sneaked out through the front door, leaving nothing but a vague scent of your perfume and a note on the living room table.

Thank you. Truly. You have no idea how grateful I am. Don’t hesitate to contact me if you ever need anything.

That’s exactly how Pedro found your note three hours later when he woke up. Note had no name. Apparently, you didn’t assume he rescued women every night and didn’t think he would mix you up with someone else.

As if he ever could.

He was quite grateful to have missed you, in case you remembered how he had come onto you in the car. He didn’t want a pitying glance and you saying sorry, as if you had anything to be sorry about.

Don’t hesitate to contact me if you ever need anything.

Pedro let out a bitter laugh. That’s what you sign at the bottom of a work email, in hopes the recipient never truly reaches out for anything. You just felt like you owed him.

three weeks later

Pedro felt somebody brush a makeup brush over his temple to add some last touches before the filming started. People were running around, adding and taking down some props. Camera crew were doing some last check-ups. And in what Pedro thought was a torturosly ironic touch to an already important scene that caused some nerves to resurface, you were there.

In fairness, you weren’t here on your own and by your own wish. Some people of the PR and social media management teams were here, hoping to take some photos of behind the scenes for marketing.

And they were all pretty irrelevant because his eyes didn’t leave you for one second.

Pedro, Bella and some of the others were placed good ten meters from where you were standing by the door of the room that seemed to shrink every second. You were either unaware of his intense gaze or simply ignored it.

Pedro didn’t know which one would piss him off more.

There weren’t many things that didn’t irritate him these days. Oscar had started to call it Y/N withdrawal. As if he was an addict. A junkie who’s been cut off from his favorite drug of choice.

At first, Pedro was understanding. You probably felt weird you had clocked him liking you and wanted space. Fine. He would be an asshole not to give you space. Then he called you but the call always went to voicemail. On week two he had the first PR dinner since ‘the incident’ and when you didn’t show and had sent one of your assistants in your place, it only soured Pedro’s mood. The assistant had lied about you not feeling well but when you were still nowhere to be seen on the next meeting – and the next – he knew it was an excuse.

You were making excuses.

Week three took the crown when at one of the advertisement meetings that was mandatory for all cast and production team members, you had apparently ‘had a doctor’s appointment’.

Now he was pissed at the whole world and especially himself for fucking this up. You were a smart girl and he should’ve expected you to put two and two together that night. And, in addition, he was just a tiny bit pissed at you for not giving him a chance to apologize.

When you excused yourself and went into the kitchen, Pedro quickly stood up.

- Sorry, - he murmured to the makeup artist. – I’ll be right back.

Filming was set to start in ten minutes.

That was all he needed to say the things that needed to be said.

You were facing the open fridge when Pedro walked in. You read something that was written on the side of what looked like a protein shake.

You looked good. There were no signs of tiredness in your eyes. No sluggish movements. No yawning.

That was good, Pedro tried to tell himself.

Would it hurt for you to be a little affected that he was absent from your life for three whole weeks?

Then his eyes caught a thin bracelet around your wrist. It was shiny and had a minimalistic heart charm on it.

Pedro recalled Oscar once mentioning getting something similar to his wife because “the only time women wear heart jewelry is if it’s gifted by a man who’s interested”.

It was quite a big assumption that the bracelet was, one, a gift, two, from a man, and three, that it was the same moron you wanted to date. And yet it only fueled Pedro’s irrational jealousy and anger.

He let go of the door and it fell shut with a loud bang.

You jumped.

- It’s really unprofessional, you know, - Pedro accused. – This behavior of yours lately.

It only took a second for you to go from a startled look to a glare. You put the drink back in the fridge and shut the door. Loudly.

How matching.

- Excuse you? – you pushed back.

- I get that you’re avoiding me and that’s fine but you also have a job to do, - he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. – You’ve missed several PR meetings and allowed your underage intern to replace you.

You chuckled under your breath and looked away.

So that’s what this was about...

- So you feel a bit neglected because an intern – highly skilled, might I add, - was attending a few of the meetings? Is he not good enough for you?

Pedro looked at you as if you’d grown a second head.

- I don’t care if he’s as useless as a toddler – don’t change the subject!

You blew away a strand of your hair that had fallen in front of your face.

God you looked hot angry.

When you tried to side-step him and leave, Pedro followed your movements until his back hit the door, leaving you without an escape. He leaned against it, wrapped his right palm around his left wrist and looked down at you.

- You’re avoiding me, - he was glaring at you.

You glared back.

- No shit.

Pedro had expected more resistance. Or more excuses. He definitely expected you to look at him with a confused stare and say ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’. Now that you had done none of that, it felt a bit weird to “confront” you because you had had every right to avoid him.

- I’m just making sure you don’t get a write-up for skipping work, - even though the words were genuine, the tone was rude and you recoiled.

You looked up at him as if he’d slapped you.

- Are you threatening to snitch on me for skipping few meetings?

His eyes widened.

Shit.

- That’s not wh-

- Fuck you.

Now he looked like you had slapped him.

This was going downhill and fast. He had never accused anybody of bad work ethics and you had never cursed at someone for essentially doing nothing wrong, really.

You had spent three weeks, trying to soothe your ego. But rejection still stung. And, for the first time in your life, your personal feelings had affected your professional life. There was no excuse for that.

So you exhaled, counted to ten, got to five and decided to push your emotions down. You didn’t actually believe that Pedro would ever attempt anything to harm your career but he was still a big star and, would somebody come across this very unprofessional conversation, your future job opportunities might be in jeopardy.

- Listen, I’m sorry, okay? – you said, then quickly added. – For missing those meetings.

You didn’t want to voice that you were also apologizing for taking rejection badly.

Even though, you were.

- Won’t happen again.

His eyes softened.

- I’m sorry too, okay? – he lifted his hand to place it on your shoulder or upper arm but decided against it in the last second and let it fall back against his side.

You laughed. Genuinely.

- What are you sorry for?

- For what I said in the car, - he explained.

Your eyes returned to the startled expression that they were in when he first came in. You had wanted to avoid that night but he had brought it up voluntarily. He could see your prey-like expression and shook his head:

- I didn’t mean... – he got quiet for a second. – That would be a lie. I did mean it. But I think I could’ve worded it better. Maybe. Or explained it to you when you were sober...

I didn’t mean... That would be a lie. I did mean it.

His words, even though soft and placating, still grazed your heart like a knife.

You could respect him for not leading you on.

Leading someone on was still worse than letting somebody down gently.

Be a big girl and accept defeat like a champ, you motivated yourself.

- That’s fine. It didn’t mean anything.

It didn’t mean anything.

You had realized he liked you, damn near loved you, and it didn’t mean anything.

His love meant nothing.

Pedro swallowed and nodded. When you gestured towards the door that he was still blocking, he stepped aside, letting you leave.

- Did you feel harassed by me? – he asked before you left.

You laughed. But when you realized he was dead-ass serious, your smile fell.

- What?

- In my car. That night. Did you feel harassed by me?

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Even though it was absurd for him to ask this, you felt warmth engulf your heart.

He’s making sure you didn’t feel unsafe with him...

God.

He’s gonna make a great partner to someone someday...

- God no, - you grinned, trying to put him at ease.

- You sure? – he asked.

- Of course, - you gave him a bittersweet smile. – How could I have felt harassed? Nothing happened.

Nothing happened, as in, I asked you out and you turned me down, simple as that.

Nothing happened, as in, you figured I liked you and that realization meant nothing, I still mean nothing to you.

When week four rolled in, things had went back to normal. The weird kind of normal. The professional kind of normal. You were present in all PR meetings you needed to attend, Pedro went out of his way to treat you like a friend.

He had started bringing these weird mini cupcakes from around where he was living. Every meeting, he would show up and give them out to all, usually five or six, attending persons. He would never skip you, giving you exactly the same amount of pleasantries, sweets and eye contact as to every other person from the cast and PR teams. It was as if he had timed your interactions to make sure you felt identical to everybody else here.

You translated his actions as he’s making sure to drive home the point of “I treat everybody like this, don’t make this weird, you’re not special in that sense”.

He translated his actions as making sure you saw that even after you rejected him, he still wouldn’t be passive-aggressive towards you and wouldn’t exclude you from anything.

“Don’t make things weird” had become a motto for both of you, at this point. This was exactly why Pedro had advised Oscar to also invite you to the party he was throwing in honor of ending the shooting of one of Oscar’s movies. Even though Pedro knew you would show up all dolled up and, most likely, with a plus one, as suggested the invitation.

And “don’t make things weird” was exactly why you had accepted, even though the last time you had attended a formal function, it had ended with you at a club and with no ride or money.

You had showed up in a black sleeveless dress that reached your knees. Pedro had had exactly one drink and he was using the hell out of it as an excuse why he couldn’t – and wouldn’t – take his eyes off you. The dress was simple and maybe exactly because of that your own beauty shone through more than usual when there was nothing to distract people from it.

Then you turned towards the small home bar and his eyes slid over your frame, landing on the dress’ very deep slit. This time it was on the behind of your dress’ skirt.

You and the fucking slits. Making every piece of clothing look like it was designed specifically for you...

- Thank god moods are not contagious because this would be the saddest happy event ever, - Oscar’s hand landed on his friend’s shoulder, as he followed Pedro’s gaze down to where you were standing.

Pedro unintentionally moved to block you from his friend’s eyes which came as a surprise to both. It was very clear that Oscar had no negative or positive intentions regarding you so it was even more weird when Pedro felt small pang of jealousy when he saw the bottle of wine you had gifted Oscar for hosting the party.

Oscar raised his eyebrows, amused.

As if asking, really?

You, on the other hand, were doing everything to avoid Pedro that evening. He looked good. He looked so handsome even though he was one of the very few men here who had chosen to wear a sweater instead of a suit or a dress shirt. You definitely needed a distraction and given how it had ended with drinking last time you got drunk, you avoided alcohol like it was the plague, only drinking virgin cocktails.

The biggest problem with avoiding someone is that that person is living in your head rent free, in order for you to be where they are not. Which meant that before you avoid them in a room, you have to check specifically for them. The biggest support for you in this was the fact that Pedro seemed to avoid you as well, so it was quite easy to keep your distance.

- Is there a guest I’m not aware of? – Oscar humored lightly. – Or are you stalked by someone?

Only the ghost of your best friend.

You smiled, shook your head and asked a few questions about the movie to whose ending this function was dedicated to. After some time he excused himself and said to go look for his wife but before he left, Oscar casually threw out:

- I’m sorry things are weird between you and Pedro right now, - he seemed apologetic.

You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

Pedro had clearly told him about what had happened.

It was already embarrassing enough for you to realize that Pedro had been sober that night and remembered every word your drunk self had confessed. And, to add insult to injury, the rejection still kinda stung. But he had clearly told everything to another man. And that one made you even more upset because you knew Oscar by reputation only but that reputation was quite good. So he probably felt sympathy for your little groupie act by asking out someone clearly out of your league.

You averted your eyes. How many other people knew?

- Look, he’s a grown ass man, he’ll be fine, - Oscar put his hand on your shoulder in a pacifying manner. – It’s just that this was his longest crush ever so it will take more time than usual...

Because you actively tried to block out his voice, the words didn’t register at first. And, once they did, they still didn’t make much sense.

- But it will-

- What did you just say?

Your tone was harsh and it made Oscar do a double-take.

- I... I’m not trying to pressure you into anything by what I said about being his longest crush, if that’s what you meant. I promise.

Your eyes searched his face for any signs of amusement or humor... or confusion. When you didn’t find any, you put down your drink and turned your full attention towards him.

- What did he tell you happened that night?

Oscar looked at you like you were a child asking to explain the alphabet.

- I’m not sure I should-

- He clearly told you something! – you raised your voice – not loud enough to be heard by everyone but enough to make some of the closest people turn heads.

Oscar nodded:

- All he told me was you figured out he liked you. And you don’t like him back, - Oscar used the tone he probably used with his kids. – And that’s fine. You have every r-

- What kind of fairy tale did he fed you? – your first thought was that Pedro had lied to his friend.

But why would he ever do that? What could he possibly get out of telling people you were the one who rejected him? Letting someone down wasn’t a crime and it didn’t make you a bad person.

- He rejected me! I straight up asked him out and he gave me the whole speech about there being men who would be oh so lucky to date me. And then he kept on friend-zoning me for a month just for funsies. Making sure I knew my place was with all the other people who worked for him!

When you turned to leave – and maybe give that free alcohol a shot or two – Oscar unceremoniously grabbed your upper arm and turned you back.

- That can’t be true, Y/N! You were the one drunk! Are you sure you remember everything okay?

You rolled your eyes, trying to pull your arm away.

- I was drunk, not stupid! I know rejection when I receive one!

Oscar’s grasp wasn’t hurting you or anything but it probably looked like you were fighting from afar, at this point.

- Look, Y/N, calm down, - he lowered his voice so other people wouldn’t hear a thing. – All he told me was that you had confessed liking someone you worked with, and-

- And who do you think that someone from work is, genius?

You could almost hear gears turning in Oscar’s head.

- So... When he said that you had asked if... When you were wondering if he would date you, it wasn’t because...

You waited.

- ... it wasn’t because you were insecure about nobody being interested in you?

- Why would I give a shit if other people were interested in me?

It was a good thing you were sober because it was taking a good amount of time to understand this even sober. Your eyes widened when you finally put the pieces together.

The way Pedro looked almost crushed when you had interrupted him to silence him in the car.

Please don’t. I respect you way too much and don’t want to start saying things I don’t mean while drunk.

Could he had mistaken it for rejection?

You silencing him out of respect so you didn’t have to tell him you didn’t want to date him? Did he thought that you were thinking his ego couldn’t handle being rejected by someone who was not rich or famous?

Shit.

You tried to find his pink sweater somewhere in the crowd. He couldn’t have gone home already, could he? You had relatively little knowledge of the layout of Oscar’s house so your best shot was to run into Pedro somewhere.

Your wish manifested a bit too literally, when you roughly rounded a corner and ran straight into someone.

Pedro’s fingers wrapped around your upper arm in the same manner Oscar’s hand had just mere seconds ago. Just to drive home the point of your attraction to him, a small shot of electricity shot through your arm whereas nothing even similar had happened when his friend had touched your arm.

- Careful, - he steadied you and then removed his hand.

When you looked up, you noticed that he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

You thought you had gotten over this awkwardness...

Guess not.

With music still sounding throughout the house, you looked around, grabbed the front of his sweater and pushed him into one of the many guest bedrooms here. Once you closed and locked the door, you turned towards Pedro who was looking a bit thrown out of the boat.

For one moment, nobody said anything. Then you pushed down the dress that had ridden up your thighs while you were frantically looking for him throughout the house, and stepped closer to him.

The height difference was always a turn on for you but right now it did nothing but annoy.

- Sit down, - you commanded.

He took a step back and sat down on the bed.

When he looked up at you, you realized that you probably shouldn’t have asked him to do that. Your foggy brain finally decided to give you back few of the memories missing from that night month ago.

When he had gently lowered you onto the bed and you had finally woken up just in time to see him drop down on his knees to take off your boots. Out of concern, he had looked up at you with a very similar expression as he was having right now. With his lids lowered, eyes dark and pupils dilated.

When his brows furrowed in confusion, unaware of your flashbacks, you snapped out of it.

- Why does Oscar think I rejected you in your car that night? – you demanded before you lost your courage.

Pedro looked away.

You had had a long day at work today and still most of your energy had went into dodging Pedro at every corner, trying to not even look at him, while simultaneously keeping an eye on him at all times to not accidentally get close. Your patience had worn out long before you got here.

You unceremoniously grabbed his chin and turned his head back towards you.

- Look, I’m sorry I told him, - Pedro raised his eyes to meet yours. – I needed to tell someone and you were avoiding me and refused to even look at me!

You shook your head and tried to step back before he grabbed your hand in both of his.

- I’m sorry.

- What are you even sorry for? – you ripped your hand from his. – For lying?

When all he did was stare up at your in confusion, you took a step back to keep some distance.

- Do you get pity points or something for act-

Pedro stood up and you lost any advantage you had due to height. When he advanced towards you and you still stepped back, he caught your wrist, refusing to let you leave.

- Stop running from me! – he demanded. – Talk to me!

Fine.

- Fine, - you still tugged on your arm and he still didn’t let go so at some point you had to give up on it and leave your hand in his grasp.

- Tell me why you were avoiding me for a month, - he used a painfully soft tone as if afraid you would run at the very first sign of confrontation.

You were silent for a moment, trying to find the right words to sound like a mature adult.

- I guess... – you sighed and decided to just get over it. – I was hurt that you weren’t interested in me when I asked you out that night after you picked me up. I was butt hurt and it wasn’t fair to you because you have ever-

You didn’t get to finish when he closed the small distance between you and pressed his lips against yours. You would’ve pulled back by surprise if not for Pedro’s hand cupping the back of you neck.

Your heart seemed to simultaneously skip a beat and stop altogether. After the initial shock, you slid your hand into Pedro’s hair and lightly pulled him back by it.

Amusement danced in his eyes with a light shake of his head.

- To think we could’ve done this weeks ago, - he laughed.

You felt a bit giddy inside, still not really comprehending every piece of this misunderstanding but, in your defense, it probably had been quite hard to catch any love signals that night when you were wasted.

- You want me to ask you out again? – you proposed.

- Nah, - he shook his head. -  I’ll do the honors, - he cleared his throat. – You’re going on a date with me.

You cocked your head.

- Are you asking or telling?

- I assumed you were a sure thing, drunk words being sober thoughts and all that...

This felt a bit too good to be true but you weren’t going to question it. Once you both left the guest room, with Pedro’s hand still wrapped around yours, and turned the corner to return to the party, you found Oscar leaning against the wall in the hallway with a drink in his hand and an amused look in his eyes.

- No freaky business under my roof, - he gave his friend with a stern look. – That’s like the only rule I have.

Only when his eyes found your intervened hands, he chuckled under his breath.

- Love must be hard when you’re both idiots, huh?

[dunmeshichilchuck]

For That One Guy on Tumblr part 5

Chilchuck x !fem !halffoot reader

Your first thought on waking up was to wonder what the hell you'd drunk last night to give you such a nasty hangover. 

Your second thought was "is something...breathing on me?"

You opened your eyes and stared straight into the worried gaze of an uncomfortably close and extremely blond elf.  

She sighed with apparent relief. "Oh thank goodness! You've been sleeping for hours! I thought maybe something had gone wrong with the resurrection spell and you might not wake up, it's just such an unknown area of resurrection magic as to how long someone can be dead before they're resurrected!"

You squinted, brain churning a long for a few minutes before you caught up with the fact that you had, in fact, died and been turned into a Popsicle. "Hrghhh....yeah...yeah 'm fine. Got one hell of a headache though. Why didn't you just wake me up if it's so late?"

Marcille fidgeted with her staff. "I wanted to but -" she shot a glare at the other party members. "They wouldn't let me!"

"It's not like it would make much sense to wake someone up just to make sure they still can wake up." Chilchuck grumbled. "do you want them fully recovered or not? They'll need to rest without you poking them awake every 10 minutes." 

Laois nodded. "Yeah and if something WAS going wrong you'd be able to see it right? Falin told me if resurrection magic went wrong you'd just kinda melt!" 

"You wouldn't- it's not melting! Why would you say it like that?"

You interjected before they could get going again. "Who's Falin?" 

Chilchuck glanced over at you. "Falin's his sister." He gestured at Laois. "She's the main reason we're here. We were trying to rescue and ressurect her but something...." He glanced at Marcille briefly, an odd, almost warning look on his face. "went wrong. And now the mad mage has transformed her into something else and is controlling her." He shrugged. "If we want to get Falin back we're going to need to defeat the mad mage."

Huh, that was. Interesting. 

"What...what exactly went wrong?" You asked, unsure if you actually wanted to know the answer. 

Laois opened his mouth to say something, but Chilchuck shot him a glare and jumped in. "We don't know, she'd been dead for a long time and we had to reassemble her body." He shrugged again. "Who knows with resurrection magic? Shit just goes south sometimes." 

Well that was even more interesting. With that and what you'd heard before they realized you were conscious....there was definitely some shady magical shit going down. 

You looked at Marcille dubiously. Normally you'd think some kind of black magic, but was this prim and proper cream puff of a barely adult child really capable of crimes against god? For heavens sakes she'd been so embarrassed about the bra thing even. You couldn't picture her in combat, let alone casting some kind of banned black magic. She'd probably get too anxious and not be able to go through with it, and why would she even study that? It seemed like her field was relatively narrow if she didn't know the leaving spell.

Definitely very interesting, and potentially very dangerous. If they knew what you'd heard and what you suspected this could get very dicey for you. The best course of action would be to play dumb as a rock. 

You nodded. "Oh yeah no I know, I don't know much about magic but I know ressurrection magic is one of those things that we don't know much about, right? Cause it's so new and everything. I've heard of some weeeiiiirrrddd stuff happening in other groups. People not fully resurrecting or even getting body swapped. And who knows how the mad mage is involved in that? Hell maybe he could control ANYONE resurrected in his dungeon, but he just went after your sister for some reason." 

Lies. Blatant lies too. You weren't dumb and you'd asked as many questions as you could of the mage in your old group. You could even cast some basic healing magic if it came down to it. You'd only had one mage in the party, and you were the only one not directly involved in combat every time, so it made sense for him to teach you some quick and dirty spells in case he was incapacitated. Not that you'd ever reveal that, you knew what happened to halffoots who learned magic. Resurrection magic wasn't complicated at all. No way they weren't doing shady shit. 

Laois and Marcille chimed in with agreements that sounded just a bit too relieved, but Chilchuck just shot you an indecipherable look and then turned back and said. "alright now that that's settled we need to get packed up and head out. We've wasted too much time waiting for y/n to wake up as it is." 

You clenched your jaw and firmly reminded yourself that you were already in a precarious position, and that seemed to just be the way Chilchuck talked. 

You could put up with it. You could put up with anything if it meant getting to take down the bastard that had built this dungeon. 

Tag list, ask to tag:

@night-shadowblood-writes2

@thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry

@dunmeshimeshi

@leguink 

@gh0st-spider

@reh-llik

@sy1v30n

@qardasngan

[witchinatree]

i have posted a LOT about the issues i had with season 4 of TUA but i'm going to say everything i've been thinking right here right now. i cannot get this shit out of my head.

i think a lot of it ties back to the flaws i noticed in season 3, they tried to take on too much and abandoned the previous storylines that were waiting for them (viktor's traumatic relationship with leonard, five's trauma in general, lila's parents dying because of five, DAVE, etc etc) and we were all expecting them to tie it all together in season 4

instead they just.. added more..???? jennifer and abigail were thrown in late season 3 and were just suddenly supposed to be super important to us (they were not.) the subway that takes you to other timelines (objectively cool as fuck, why is this only introduced in the last season of The Timeline Show)

and i'm still really upset that reginald is an alien because it makes no fucking sense. i always assumed he created the mystery 43 babies (why else would he seek them out and already have a plan for them) but the alien route was.. ill-fitting. i think it would've worked better if he fell in love with abigail, who was an alien and created marigold, and then his hubris and curiosity was what unleashed it into the world and doomed the timeline. "sure this mystery chemical destroyed the planet my wife is from but i'm reginald hargreeves so that won't happen to me!" [happens to him] also i wish abigail was not just used as "see! abuser not so bad! abuser have wife! he love wife :]" because. what. and then her weird complaints about reginald in episode 6 that came out of nowhere confused me. they just should've written her entirely different if they were gonna have her at all

AAALSO i hated that they regressed all of the characters back to how they were in season 1 (or worse??). luther was living in the old umbrella academy building because apparently he will never leave it?? after everything?? diego's life was different but he was still doing this weird job shit (discount batman and mail carrier are the same thing) and he was miserable with his loving wife and kids (who ARE you.). allison's husband left her again (what the hell raymond) and she was still the neglectful single mother of claire?? after EVERYTHING I KNOW I ALREADY SAID THAT BUT GOD. klaus actually had something going for him, if only his recovery wasn't made into a joke, and then he relapsed and got kidnapped and was just very.. season 1 klaus.. but with no ghost ben anymore. five.. eugh. he was not season 1 five he was just NotFive. crazy how they had a magnus archives crossover and just brought in NotThem to take five am i right guys. ben's also different because it's not the same ben from season 1 but they just made him really fucking mean. like worse than season 3 because there wasn't that underlying "please i just want to be loved" thing. crypto bro ben was funny as fuck though. and VIKTOR just fucked off by himself after working so hard to be part of the family again. glad he got to transition and become canada's #1 manslut but jesus, just abandoned everything you did to be part of the family huh.

my vision for the ending of TUA would go something like this

ending of season 3, pretty much the same but they all have their powers and reginald's head getting sliced in half did not reveal him to be some alien freak. also at some point abigail would have been introduced. i don't feel like rewriting season 3 too okay i'm cutting corners.

luther finds sloane when he goes back to where the umbrella academy building used to be, but it's now a very lovely apartment that the two of them live in together. they host all of the family gatherings for sentimental and space reasons. i think luther would explore the stripper idea but decide not to follow it because of sloane. sloane would be fine with it but luther would still get worried.

diego and lila live in the same house somewhat nearby. lila's family (they do get to be alive but lila does have to overcome the trauma of losing them while simultaneously getting them back) are their neighbors, it was the compromise they came to because diego wanted their house to be their space but lila wanted her family close. they have three kids who are each loved and names get to be in the fucking show. (looking at you mystery twin. grace and coco (?) didn't really get much attention either). they have a big backyard that the kids all play in together when they're visiting

allison and ray are still together and they have claire (maybe another kid...) they also live somewhat nearby the rest of the umbrella family because i refuse to let them separate. i don't have much to say about them other than RAY DID NOT WALK OUT ON HER.

klaus and dave live in allison and ray's neighborhood. maybe they adopted a kid? maybe they didn't? i think their family would be really cute either way. klaus is still overcoming his addiction and dave supports him through it. it's not made into a joke and actually gives klaus a lot of depth and emotional moments. also just in general dave meeting the rest of the family would be really really sweet

five gets to retire. he lives with viktor in my mind. full circle on viktor being the person who always waited for him and offered him a place to stay after he got home in season 1. five would not actually be getting a retirement pay because he has never had a real job so he's just vik's roommate now. he could have a romance plotline with a woman working at the department store down the street named delores. she looks familiar.

ben lives alone and works at a tech company? honestly i don't know what i would do with him in the pre-plot but it would not be put him in jail?? me personally. i think he would probably move further away than everyone else but stay close enough so he could visit sloane sometimes. he still feels like an outsider but doesn't know how to tell the umbrellas he wants to be their brother now

and viktor lives with sissy harlan and five (previously mentioned). his transition gets to actually be explored (PLEASE.), harlan is in therapy, and sissy is a strong working woman!! again i don't really know what to do with him pre-plot. just know he's the happiest he's ever been!!!

and just in general, a lot of this happiness from all of them comes from their powers and that they can finally be one big happy family together (whether ben likes it or not). setting up the inherent tragedy that comes with perfection

episode 1 opens by showing everything i just explained, the tragedy of getting everything you want or whatever the title was. their powers are still integral to their lives. they're either tied to their careers (luther would probably be like a wrestler or something again, diego could try police work again because i want that to be explored) or other aspects of their existence (allison still finds herself doubting how much of her life is real, klaus' relapses are always caused by his trauma surrounding ghosts, five sometimes space jumps when he wants to be alone [also i think he could feel some sort of shame/guilt because he lives with viktor and can't really contribute much without the commission. not really his fault though because of his insanely fucked timeline], ben uses the squid to carry things or grab things that are far away, and viktor plays the violin to help him remind himself that he is in control of his power now, and he won't end the world again)

the main conflict starts when ben meets a new woman named jennifer and shakes her hand when introducing himself (starting the marigold/durango reaction that builds very slowly throughout the season.) it could be romantic but i think it's just devestating. they're slowly realizing they're losing everything they worked so hard for because of something they can't control

yadda yadda yadda figuring shit out while also having conflicts in their life from the earlier seasons and it culminates in the old umbrella academy building, viktor is the only person who can remove the durango and marigold from ben and jennifer and save the world. he finally gets to be the hero, be the one to stop the end of the world instead of cause it, but he needs to take the marigold from each of the siblings in order to balance the amount of durango jennifer had (no idk why he would let the other like 30 something marigold kids keep theirs i really don't know how to fix that. why would they do this to me)

each of the siblings have to give up part of their lives, part of their identities, and it's hard for them!!! they struggle a lot to agree to do it!!! and it's also harder for them because they don't know if viktor will survive doing this. but he's the only one who can? is his life more important than the existence of everything and everyone? ultimately, they all give up their marigold, and viktor takes all of it and the durango to save everyone. it cancels itself out and stops the cleanse reaction, and i think it would kill viktor (but it doesn't have to). we see that same clip of the 'perfect world' but they get to be in it. they were never the problem. lila and diego play in the park with their kids. allison ray and claire are walking together. klaus and dave are talking on a bench. luther and sloane are carrying a large basket of food. ben and five are helping them set up the picnic. harlan is sitting in the grass with sissy next to him. each of the adults have a small violin tattoo on their wrists. their lives will never be as perfect as they were before, but they can finally just rest and move on. because it was never their fault.

also reginald dies. fuck that guy

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Top Form time, baby! I slept horribly last night, so this is my one consolation in having to face the day.

I need my black kitty + golden retriever comfort.

The only way I am coping with Johnny's hand on Akin right now is knowing how every second increases the likelihood of Jin ripping it off.

Ooh, yes, callout those parasocial relationship boundary-pushers. No, dummy, he does not remember you, you have zero relationship to him.

But also the way that was framed worries me that she will be coming back.

Yesss, Akin, make him suffer.

Also, I do enjoy that they are continuing the animal motif with Johnny being the fox (though of course in reality foxes are delightful and charming).

Side note - as a hint of how tired I am, when trying to name my saved jpg "sly fox", I ended up typing "flox". Which is to say, if there's something here that ends up making no sense, this is why.

Oh god, is Naru really that innocent, or is he expertly trolling Johnny? I hope for his sake he's not that innocent.

Wait, Naru is so tiny, how is that gonna fit Akin?

Jin 🤝Rain = having a uniform/roleplay kink

Though Jin being an actor probably means much easier access to good quality uniforms.

Ooh, now I want a shot where we see he kept things like the police uniform from episode one, just in case he got to use it with Akin someday.

Oh we are just unlocking all kinds of kinks today.

Lolol, making fun of the hairstyle too, perfect!

(I will never forgive this industry for some of the bad haircuts they've made our boys suffer).

Oh Jin, you sweet talker.

I do appreciate that Jin is not just physically horny for Akin, but also deeply emotionally horny. That's not something we get to see often!

Jesus, their physical chemistry

They are another one of those rather rare BL couples who totally sell the delight they are experiencing in being physical with one another.

*sigh*. I know these photos are going to mean something terrible. It is realistic, but why do people have to suck so much?

Dammit, I knew she'd be back.

Oh good for Sine for not letting Akin minimize this.

Oh shit, she is crossing all the boundaries.

Um, that "no other fans are going to accept her" does not seem very realistic. There are definitely some "fan" spaces where they seem to make a culture out of being shitty and entitled.

My sweet babies.

Keep holding on to each other, sweet boys.

Ugh, the press always asks such dumb questions.

Oh, thank god, a series that finally remembers cloud storage exists.

Damn, Akin is a better person than me, to still be able to see the human beneath the delusion.

I don't remotely have the time, but wow do I want to write an essay about this plotline, and fan behavior, and how we all feel more unseen and disconnected from each other at the same time that parasocial relationships are becoming more prominent, and how capitalism feeds the unhealthy dynamics, and corporations only care once it gets bit enough to affect the potential profits of their products, but do nothing to maintain a healthier dynamic for their actors and fans, and... just so much.

Them, and the gratitude they have for each other...

Also I love that Akin heard what Jade had to say, but is not going to stop being close to Jin out of fear.

Lolol, the climbing on the bed being so representative of the cat & dog energy, I adore it.

[dragonzfanfics11]

request - Aiden Clark (Sbg) X reader, fluff? You get free will otherwise pookie 🗣️🔥 ~By @bluenerdd34

Prompt idea - it could be fun doing Aiden Clark x exchange student reader, they could either be fluent in English or still learning but since Aiden moved a lot with his parents it could be interesting. idk I'm spit balling ~Prompt idea by @i-liketoast

Im using this as an opportunity to use some of my French skills (I'm not very good yet but I'm learning lol 😭) so reader is a French exstange student that knows a bit of English

◇Small oneshot + headcanons◇

French will be translated don't worry if you don't speak French lol i also dont know much about exstange students so if its wrong im sorry

Aiden also trys guessing readers language and just gusses random languages idk if I need to put this here but oh well 😭

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You just got to this new school and still learning where some of your classes were and how to get around.

You haven't really interacted with to many people yet besides asking for a few directions here and there from a few teachers or students.

You just barly made it to your history class (is that the class they were in i dont remember 😭) just before the bell and sat down in the only empty seat left in class, which just happend to be next to a loud blond boy that never seems to stop smiling from the handful of times you've seen him in the halls or your other classes

You haven't had much of a chance to talk to him or anyone really since your still learning English so you mostly kept to yourself since you arrived

The boys grin seemed to widen when you walked over to the empty desk and just as you sat down he was suddenly right up next to you making you jump slightly, you were just about to say somthing but he beats you to it still grinning like a phyco

"Hi! I'm aiden! I've never seen you before, you new?"

You nod slightly still shocked from his sudden closeness before speaking

"Uh im y/n, yea im new...."

He seemed to notice your accent very quickly and his eyes seemed to light up with excitement

"Oh you must be that exstanged student I've been hearing rumors about!!"

"Des rumeurs ?" (Rumers?)

"ooo what language is that?? Italian? Mexican? Latin?"

"....it's french"

"Ohh I've never met somone who can speak French before!!"

It wasn't long before the teacher had to shush us so he could start class but aiden did not seem like he was gonna be leaving you alone anytime soon after this

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Headcanon time~

Constantly asks you what random things are in french

-Oh- Whats dog in french??

Chienne for a female dog and chien for a male dog

-Whats cat??

Chatte for a girl and chat for a boy

Also loves confusing you with random English words you don't know just because he can lol

Oh yea! *insert random word you don't know*

"What?"

"Insert word again"

"What are you saying??"

":D"

"pour l'amour de Dieu je te déteste 😑" (for the love of God I hate you 😑)

even though he messes with you a lot he does also help you with some English stuff you don't understand if your out in public

You probably ended up in the phantom dimension with them (js cuz idk what to put if you werent shh-)

He helps you understand some of the plans if you get confused with some of the English and helps you constantly with learning English

He also mightve learned some French for fun mostly and to understand you better

Probably dosent even bring it up either and just randomly says somthing in french to see the groups reaction

"salut les gars!" (Hey guys!)

"oh, Salut aiden" (oh, hey aiden)

":D" "..."

"tenir bon-" (hold up-)

"Wtf are you saying?!?!" -tyler

he probably also convinces you to help him mess with the group (mostly tyler) with speaking french

Basically he just asks you to say random things in french to confuse the shit out of the group lol

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Im sorry if this isn't what you were expecting when you asked for aiden fluff but here's somthing at least! :3

I also won't be taking anymore requests for a while cuz I've been busy lately but I'll try to write some things on my own time till I can take actual requests again!!