#this is so evil why did it take me five hours to watch that fucking movie….

[livvyofthelake]

it’s 2am and i’m tired and i didn’t even get to finish alina should i just kill myself 😐😐

[archangeldyke-all]

ran + sev walking in on reader masturbating

ORRR

reader masturbating in plug sevs car while in heavy traffic (sev ofc can’t take her eyes off 🤭)

i love BOTH these, but since i just did a ranvika ask, i'll do the plug sev one!!

men and minors dni

traffic isn't so bad when you're a plug's passenger princess.

it's rush hour, and you told sevika not to get on the interstate-- that it would be packed-- but she refused to listen.

so now, you're at a stand still, bumper to bumper. sevika put the car in park five minutes ago, and you haven't moved since.

but, really, you're not bothered. sevika keeps your glove compartment stocked with snacks, you've got your favorite beverage in the cupholder beside you, and you've got an endless supply of weed.

sevika's not even in a bad mood-- which is rare for her when it comes to traffic. but, you've got nowhere to be-- headed home after a few home-deliveries-- and you're sitting beside her, so... she's got nothing to complain about.

sevika giggles as she watches you cough out a lungful of smoke, and you flip her off as you catch your breath.

"you okay?" she asks.

you sigh, leaning back in your reclined seat. "mmm. yeah." you giggle.

sevika snorts. "you're so cute." she chuckles.

you smile. sevika's eyes study your face for a second, sweet and loving, and then they dart down for just a moment to check out your tits, something a little darker flashing behind them.

an evil plan starts to form in your head, and you giggle mischeviously. sevika quirks an eyebrow at you.

"what?" she asks.

you shake your head. "nothing." you say.

she eyes you for a minute, then drops it. "whaddya want for dinner tonight?" she asks.

you hum, pretending to turn in your chair toward her, but really just using it as an excuse to widen your legs a bit. your miniskirt pulls up your thighs. sevika's eyes drop down to the movement immediately.

you grin. "what strain is this?" you ask, gesturing to the little pipe you've been smoking out of. sevika shrugs.

"not sure, why?"

"mmm..." you hum, pushing your tits out just a bit. "jus' wondering. 's makin' me horny." you sigh. sevika's eyes go dark in a split second, and you have to bite your cheek to keep from smiling. "your windows are completely blacked out, right?" you ask.

sevika gulps. "y-yeah why?" she asks.

you hum and trail your hands up your legs, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear and quickly pulling it down your legs.

you toss your panties at sevika's shocked face, then pull your skirt all the way up your hips so she can watch you start to rub your cunt.

"baby." sevika gasps.

you giggle, rubbing your clit and sighing as you lean back in the chair. "fuck." you sigh. "mmm. i'm wet." you can hear sevika gulp beside you. "wanna taste?"

"yes." sevika whines. you smile and reach out, letting sevika suck your fingers into her mouth. she moans at the taste of you, her tongue swiping between your fingers, trying to lick every drop of you up.

your clit pulses, and you pull your fingers out of her mouth, bringing them back down onto your cunt. "shit, sevika." you whine.

"baby, fuck, you're so fuckin' hot." she groans.

you pull your top up so she can ogle your tits. sevika whines, unbuckles her seatbelt, and shoots across the center console, sucking one of your breasts into her mouth.

"sev!" you giggle. she hums against your tits, and you pull her away from your chest by her ponytail. "baby, you gotta watch the road for me." you moan.

sevika looks seriously conflicted. her eyes keep flickering between the still cars surrounding you and your fingers circling your clit. "you're trying to kill me." she decides aloud. you burst into giggles, and sevika groans, leaning forward and bashing her head against the steering wheel. you snort while you watch your girlfriend lament her situation, and she glares at you. "you're gonna fuckin' regret this when we get home."

you grin. "oh, i'm so scared." you giggle. sevika reaches out and pinches your nipple, and you squeak, smacking her wrist. "sev!"

"fuck, if you're gonna tease me at least be good and get that pussy ready for me." she growls, not letting go of her grip on your tit.

the sudden dominance in her voice makes you shiver, and you nod rapidly, rubbing your cunt faster. "shit--" you gasp.

"shit, i can smell you, baby." sevika groans. "fuck-- you poor thing. can't fuck yourself properly with those nails. betcha wish i was inside you, don't you?"

fuck her for turning the tables on you and making you flustered.

still, you can't deny her words. you feel empty and needy, and the thought of waiting until you get home for sevika to fill you up makes you whimper.

"shit, baby, look at your pretty cunt." sevika whines, her grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled.

"sev, i'm--"

"gonna cum already?" she asks. "you're so easy babe. so fuckin' needy, touchin' yourself in the middle of traffic, and all it takes to get you to cum is some dirty talk." you whine, reaching out to smack her shoulder at her teases. sevika chuckles and takes mercy on you, grabbing the hand you swatted her with and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "cum for me baby." sevika whispers.

you cum with a gasp, shaking in the passenger's seat. sevika peppers your knuckles with kisses as you fall apart beside her.

you vaguely register the sound of sevika shifting the gear back into drive and the car inching forward. when you finally blink your eyes open, you realize that the traffic's starting to lighten up.

you're still twenty minutes from home, and the thought of having to wait until you get home to have your girlfriend is already making you antsy.

but then, sevika flicks her blinker on, and slowly navigates the car toward the nearest exit.

"where're we goin?" you ask.

"fuck if i know. the nearest empty parking lot." sevika laughs.

you grin, and then lean across the center console to kiss her cheek.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

[respectthepetty]

Pride Petty Watch (The Untamed) 2/?

The crowd picked two blacklisted shows for me to watch during Pride, so even though the first series took me only three days to get through, the second one is taking some time since I went out this past week and touched some grass for Pride. However, I did watch an episode a day AND spotted something on sale while out and about.

Fun Fact: These are 200 pages EACH, and they only cover what has been shown up until episode five. I teach English, not math, but doing some simple addition, dividing over A, carrying the Y, and solving for X, I have guessed that this series is going to be 20 books long! TWENTY! AT LEAST! Basically, it's going to be as long as this long-ass series.

*presses play on episode six*

These idiots are drunk, loud, and fighting. They are breaking rule #36, #265, and #1. Even I know that!

When you realize you're in love with a virgin who is a light-weight and can't even drive after talking about intimacy while touching his headband. I take back everything I said about this show. It's gay. Like real gay. Gay gay.

Fuddy Duddy is better than me because I would not have taken that beating, but that's probably why he is an elite Cloud Cunt or whatever, and also why he has now been blessed with Wei Wuxian trying to cuddle in this freezing water while talking about his "extremities" shivering. Note: In the comics, we see that Fuddy Duddy is BRANDED (like as in marked by burning the flesh) and has A SHIT TON OF SLASHES ON HIS BACK (like as in whipped . . . BY A FUCKING WHIP). Basically, this Cloud Cult is batshit crazy.

These two are fighting literal demons. But also the demons are homosexuality.

THEY TIED THEMSELVES TOGETHER WITH THE INTIMACY BAND! If it was red, it'd be game over for China!

Y'all cute but your kid is still an asshole, and there is a queer plot brewing. GET OUT OF MY FACE!

They were lesbian lovers, and I will not be entertaining any other reason for all of this because only a lesbian would tie her soul for eternity to a musical instrument just so she doesn't have to admit she was wrong to her wife, while her wife goes on to train the most elite squad of wizards just to one day help her wife because she already predicated her wife would fuck up. This is love.

Correction since my boy asked AGAIN if he could harness evil power for good - One of them is fighting demons, the literal and homosexual kind, and one is embracing them both, openly, with no fucks given.

And she knows! Not about the homosexual part, but about the "finding the stone hidden in the rock" part (but probably the homo part too)

Wei Wuxian lied for you when you got out of the rock. He touched your headband. And now he has touched your soul. Stop fighting it. Embrace this. It's Pride Month.

Wei Wuxian drinks, parties, talks shits, and backs it up. I'm getting flashbacks to Spring Break in South Padre. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. But the hands were always ready to hit their mark.

My boy is Catholic. Fuddy Duddy took 300 hits earlier to uphold the integrity of his Cloud Cult or whatever, but my boy was told his punishment and is merely going through the motions since he doesn't regret laying hands on his future in-law. He said "tell me how many Hail Marias I need to say, so I can go play with the ants and get a tan." Same.

First, your best friend brought the bird into the class and now you took the bunnies to remind Fuddy Duddy of "those four amazing hours you spent in the hot tub together after Winter Formal." Y'all are schemers, and this will cause problems later. I've taught too many freshmen. Y'all need to be separated before you plot the end of the world and animals have to be sacrificed. I see the signs.

Who is going to kill this man? WHO?! Let it be a woman because he needs to be reminded he is insignificant and useless.

Oh my God, they found each other! I knew my boy would go after his boy, but for his Bird Bestie to spot them too?! These two idiots are going to cause havoc and hijinks.

Y'all are so Romeo and Juliet coded, it hurts my feelings. Girl, you're going to die and he is going to be sad about it. But can you kill that red asshole first? Please.

Sir, now you and I both know some shit is about to go down because that florist's house was crispy fried burnt, that woman outside was creepy as hell, and these two are over there chatting about soul snatchers. GET OUT OF THERE, FD, AND TAKE THE ANIMAL BROS WITH YOU!

FD might have the brains and the silencing charm, but my boy got the moves. He has that Spider Man magic string thing, he has the Shrek gingerbread men, and he keeps making spells out of thin air. Maury, who is his daddy? God?! THE DEVIL?!

SHE CAN PLAY A MUSICAL INSTRUMENT TOO! Hold up. HOLD UP! Fuddy Duddy's brother played it to calm everyone down. FD played his to subdue the zombies. And now she did too, but my boy's flute playing skills not only calmed the zombie, but controlled him. Did he learn it from her?!

Girl, what are you doing at the devil's sacrament?

Wen Qing has been holding off this fucking bird and these zombies all night, and these boys have been doing what at their slumber party? Braiding each other's hair? She better be the one to kill that red asshole. She deserves the body count. *wink, Jiang Cheng*

The bird needed to go, but this is what I'm talking about with him and his bird bestie. Homie closed his eyes and felt his feelings because FD told him to, then pretended to be dead just so he could kill that bird. It's smart as well as scary because how much power does he really possess? A shit ton. That's how much. But also, why didn't they take the dead bird with them? Don't leave behind magical creatures to be brought back to life!

Smart to have the others chase after a chicken, so the color-coded boys in love could get more details, but these two are a hetero version of the mains. She is not bad. She is trying to do good with what she has, which is a pile of shit, and he wants to do right by her but his principles are going to get in the way. I anticipate no happy endings for anyone. Not Romeo and Juliet or Romeo and Julio.

Bird Bestie was smart to stay behind because it was obvious there would be dead bodies, but WHO THE FUCK ARE THESE TWO?! This show is color-coded within an inch of its life, and everyone is a pair because they both have the other's color in their robes, so the fact that the white one showed up first and claimed evil guy was his enemy makes me think they have history (exes), but the new black guy replaced him. Black dude, I'd watch my back because Evil Dude is coming for you.

It also worries me that these two have a similar . . . something. Wei Wuxian, buddy, homie, ho-migo. You're getting darker. You were dark blue, but now, you're black. Why is no one else concerned that the call is about to come from within the house?

So much shit is going down on this mountain! White No Name dude just said he knows and was trained by the OG lesbian, so we know she is still alive and well waiting for her wife, and my boy is sad since his mama was trained by her therefore he was trained by her, which makes her his grandma or something (I DON'T KNOW!). And now the illegitimate brother I want to be with FD's brother is in charge of watching the evil dude, but he is wearing white/blue and evil dude is wearing black/gold, and if they become an item, I'm gonna be pissed!

Y'all, he is gonna fuck up. He is going to let the bad guy go isn't he? I don't understand why they couldn't kill the bad guy, but my illegitimate son has been disrespected in this house too many times in the past ten minutes to let this shit slide. He is going to make a deal with the devil. I feel it.

"I'll sleep on your roof" - That was a declaration of love because y'all fought on a roof over liquor, and now he wants to just chill on your roof while drinking even though you are leaving. He is sprung and does not care who knows.

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?! THIS IS A FUCKING SHIT SHOW! The oldest kids are being called away which means Fuddy Duddy's cult is probably losing it and branding everyone. They are being attacked by the Evil Reds even though their evil dude admitted to killing that whole damn family! My illegitimate son DEFINITELY killed that guy and let the evil dude go. He did that. I know he did. And my boy's outfit looks so similar to that evil red swordsmen who is fighting on behalf of that weak ass red bitch because he can't fight himself, it's ridiculous (Someone needs to slash that evil red dude's face and his tires).

Everyone is going to die, and there is no hope.

*eats some naan*

Okay, maybe there is some hope in the other FORTY EPISODES! FD's brother could take in the illegitimate son, and they could live happily ever after. Right? RIGHT?!

[sailing-through-hawkins]

that scene from bolt (2003? 2005?) where mittens teaches him how to do puppy eyes but it's steve and robin except it became steddie:

"What are you talking about, of course i know how to pout!"

"No, Robin, because you pouting is you trying to shove your lip as far as you can shove your tongue out, which is kinda weirdly far."

"I made a record, I stand by that"

"I do too, it was cool - but the point is you don't make use of the most important factor - your fucking eyes, dingus."

"Okay hotshot, maybe you used to have charm or whatever but this is the real world and -"

"Hello foes, friends and reluctant allies!" Eddie bursts in through the door, thank god there's no moms in the store to gasp like him being alive is a scandal. Robin doesn't know how much more "he's not to be trusted, you know" she can take this week. "What say you on this glorious day of sunny tides and cloudless skies?"

"How do you have so much energy," Robin groans because it's been two hours of being at work and that's five hours too many. "And why are you shoving it in our faces."

"Fear not, good lady Buckley," Eddie dumps a very noisy bag onto the counter and bows in his classic-Eddie-way. God, why does Steve like this guy, what is his thing with nerds? "I have brought rewards and sweets abound for your tortorous job sentencing."

"Oh my god," Steve slaps her arm and immediately goes rummaging through the bag like the rude little man he is. "Fuck yes!"

"Ahem," Eddie coughs pointedly, freezing Steve in his tracks. He raises an eyebrow as Steve slowly his hand out of the bag without breaking eye contact. "You're welcome?"

"Thank you, Eddie," Robin rolls her eyes and immediately shoves Steve aside - "Hey!" - to zero in on finding a pushpop, which she does, because she's a genius. "Aha, got it!"

"No fair!" Steve whines, shoving at her weakly after she "I wanted that one."

"There's another in the bag," Robin shoves back because tit for tat, fucker. Doesn't matter who started it unless Steve started it.

"Sorry, Steve-O," Eddie snatches the bag off the counter and picks out the pushpop with an evil grin. "But that one's mine."

"Aw, come on!" Steve slumps his shoulders but his eyes light up when he glances at Robin, so she settles in her lean on the counter because that's a signal, that's Steve's signal for "watch my back, look at me" and damn if she won't.

Steve's shoulder slump down even more as he leans over the counter, head tilted to one side and upwards to look up at Eddie. His eyes do something, go big under a semi-wrinkled brow, while he purses his lips just a bit and stares up. "Please, Eds?"

"Uh," Eddie, on the flip side, is staring down at Steve with big eyes too but these are wider and flit around Steve's face, and his brow goes high up while his jaw drops down low. "Um?"

"Can I have the last pop, Eds?" Steve leans not even an inch closer but Eddie blinks down at him like he's the fucking messiah, holy shit, it's working. "Please?"

Eddie swallows, interesting, and nods dumbly. He doesn't even seem to realize that he's handing over the pop before it's gone and blinks at his empty hand.

"Thanks, Eddie!" Steve stands up properly now and smiles around the pop in his mouth.

Eddie blinks again, once at his hand, once at Steve and once at Robin.

"Holy shit," Robin slaps and shakes Steve's arm because he's too busy grinning at Eddie to look at her. "You gotta teach me that."

"Told you," he says smugly, grinning wider when they both realize Eddie is staring at his now crossed arms. Holy shit, it works. "Ready for the first lesson, padawan?"

Eddie snaps his head up and just outright stares at Steve, jaw still agape and face still flushed. "Did you just say padawan?"

"What does the first lesson entail, Stevie?" Robin continues the bit as though Eddie said nothing.

"Find a goal," Steve smirks, reaching over the counter to trail a hand down Eddie's arm. "Eddie's mine."

He squeaks. He fucking squeaks. Robin is delighted, this is a gold mine of blackmail and bribery.

"And then pinpoint exactly what you want from the goal," Steve instructs before turning to Eddie with a smile. "Something like you, over at my place tonight? Maybe at seven, watch a movie or two together?"

"Is - are you serious?" Eddie gulps, eyes flitting between the pair of them. "Are you - asking me out?"

"One hundred percent, Eds," Steve reassures him. "Been wanting to ask you out for a while."

"Oh," Eddie blinks, his slow nod getting faster and faster. "Yes, yeah. Movie date tonight, your place. I'll pick the movies?"

"Sounds good," Steve says sweetly, and waves a giggly bye as Eddie launches towards the dinky corner of the store where they keep the best of the horror flicks.

"Alright, that was pretty smooth," Robin admits. "Think it'll work on Joyce so I don't have to do the dishes on Friday?"

Steve shakes his head with a laugh and nudges her. "Nothing's getting you out of dish duty rotation."

[taetaespeaks]

The Wife / THV part.5

genre : yandere taehyung, failing marriage, mean and cruel protagonists

summery : you five were the nightmares of teachers back in high school, now adults, your cruel and violent temperament doesn’t seem to have change neither does have the obsession taehyung has for you.

warnings : mean protagonists!!!!, smut, s3xual descriptions, strong language, violence, cruelty from the protagonists themselves. here we have an evil y/n. read at your own risk ! this story is hard and violent do not read if you’re sensitive to those topics.

rate : +18 only minors do not interact

<- masterlist ->

You had been watching the soapy water run over the tender flesh of your left shin for almost an hour. The water was cold but you didn't seem to feel it. Everything was cold in this huge house.

The freedom you had dreamed of away from your former husband seemed bitter. Since your arrival, you had hardly seen the sunlight.

Taehyung was always working, your mother never answered the phone, Jimin was always busy, you had no choice but to make conversation with that poor boy Hoseok, your bodyguard. Why would you need a bodyguard? And more importantly, did he really need to watch you take a bath?

"Tell me, Hoseok." Slowly, you turned onto your side, revealing more nudity than necessary to observe the young man, leaning your arms against the icy marble walls of the bathtub and resting your chin on them, tilting your head slightly with perfectly masked false curiosity, but the young man's watchful eyes were not fooled by your fake looks. "Is it really necessary for you to watch me shave my legs or just a little kink you have?"

Hoseok laughed, his usual loud laugh that made you wrinkle your nose slightly, the noise, you were not used to it.

"I am obeying Mr. Kim's orders, ma'am."

Resuming your original position, you let yourself sink a little more into the almost icy water as you watched the black, cold ceiling inaccelebrate with a loud sigh, the lapping of the water making no effort to hide your annoyance.

"How is Jeongguk?"

A silence. Too long. Hoseok never answered you, instead he suddenly stood up.

"Sir."

Taehyung was all dressed up in a new and even more expensive suit, his hair perfectly combed back, his eyes scanning your naked body in the water but you didn't stared at him any longer than necessary.

You were miserable, in that big, cold house where Taehyung kept you as a trophy. Wasn't this what you had always wanted? To depend on a rich man and spend your days with nothing to do but look at yourself in a high wall mirror? What had you really wanted?

"You'll catch a cold."

"I hope so, maybe this way I can get out of this place."

Taehyung laughed, ignoring your defeatist tone and with a nod, ordered Hoseok to leave not even bothering to look at him.

"Don't be grumpy. You don't have to go out, you have everything you want here."

"I want to go out."

Taehyung's jaw tensed slightly before another cute smile lit up his childish face, childish, particularly when he wore that expression.

"No, you don't."

You did not contradict him, what would have been the point?

"I have a meeting tonight, again, make yourself at home." He joked, kissing your cold forehead and as if in a breath, he was gone again but this time you wasted no time.

Dressed only in a towel, and delighted to see that for once Hoseok wasn't waiting for you at the door, you ran to the second office, closing the door and pulling the white towel tighter around your trembling body, you tributary to the nearest landline phone. Jeongguk's number seemed so natural to type on the overly expensive object, cold, like everything here.

"Jeongguk?" You exclaimed, a slight smile appearing on your face so suddenly angelic but on the other end of the line only silence reigned.

"Gukkie, it's me, y/n. Are you okay? Can you help me?"

Nothing.

"Fuck, Jeongguk!"

Nothing.

A cry of frustration escaped you as in a fit of rage you threw the phone on the black tile and watched it furiously explode into a few small pieces.

"Shit, shit, shit..." Your frozen hands grabbed the pile of leaves waiting to be sorted on the right corner of the oak cabinet before you sent them flying across the room.

As you watched them fall, your actions suddenly seemed so pointless, for the first time, you were not in control. Had you ever had it?

"Stop."

Jimin stood in the doorway, surprisingly unsurprised and even less alarmed by your distressed state.

With great hurried steps, he walked over to you and to your astonishment abruptly hugged you, ignoring your wet body staining his clothes with water droplets.

"Stop. He can't know." He whispered in the hollow of your ear.

"What the fuck are you talking about!" Pushing him away abruptly, you pulled away from your best friend giving him a look close to madness. "What the fuck are you all talking about? What's your fucking problem?"

Jimin shook his head from left to right, looking sorry.

"y/n, stop it. We're fucked."

"Is there a problem?" Hoseok appeared in turn, his usual warm smile and relaxed air contrasting with the tense and absurd scene before him.

"No-" Jimin began, with an air of urgency.

"Oh, yes, there's a problem. I want to see my mother, I want to see my ex-husband, and I want to get out of this shitty place! So, fuck your boss, Hoseok, you're going to do your job and obey me and give me what I want!" You were now standing in front of him and although he was taller, it had never been something that scared you. "Now, asshole."

Something changed in the guard's gaze and before you could repeat your request, a burning pain caught you on the cheek. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jimin take a step forward and then change his mind just as suddenly. Hoseok had just hit you. Hoseok had just hit you.

Slowly you looked up at the young man. He was still smiling, like an idiot. It didn't take long for rage to take control of your body, and if it weren't for Jimin's reflexes, who, knowing you, leapt to grab your wrist before your palm hit Hoseok's cheek in return.

"Let go of me, Jimin. LET GO OF ME!" He did not obey. No one was obeying you.

Hoseok smiled even more, then leaning toward you, he whispered.

"Madam should learn to control her emotions." Your eyes locked with his, your pupils wide as if watching a demon from the underworld. Jimin let go of your wrist, which fell limply down your body. "I'll walk you back to your room now, love.”

As he started to turn around, your suddenly hot hand tightened around his bicep, stopping him in his tracks. The dark-haired man slowly turned back to you, raising his eyebrows curiously as a demented grin grew on your face under Jimin's terrified gaze as he instinctively stepped back.

"No men. No man. Has ever laid a hand on me. I will kill you for this."

Hoseok's gaze darkened but he didn't answer, dropping his arm, you left the two men behind, heading for "your room."

"You." Jimin looked up slightly. "I want to see Sa ra. Now." He nodded hesitantly.

You would ruin them all if you had to, but you would win. Always.

•••

"She tried to call him."

"I see."

Taehyung calmly looked at the ring he planned to put around your finger incessantly soon, with attention, back turned to Hoseok, whose attention seemed to be elsewhere.

"Stop looking at him." Hoseok immediately raised his gaze at the command, gaze who used to stare at an unrecognizable and torture-changed Jeongguk, who, breathing hard, was trying to get up from the bloody floor, his own blood on his scratched palms causing him to slip and fall back onto the floor of the Kim Association's boss's office.

"I see." Taehyung repeated, smiling strangely, almost creepily, closing his palm on the ring, he swiveled his seat to observe Hoseok.

"She probably threatened to kill you, am I wrong?"

"No, sir." Hoseok smiled, amused. "She did."

It was Taehyung's turn to laugh, a laugh devoid of humor. "Then she will." Hoseok's smile turned into a grimace and then disappeared. "Oh yes, my love, she is like that, she will."

On the other side of the door, Sa ra swallowed her saliva with difficulty. Terrified and stunned by the sight of the now motionless body of her former high school friend that she could see through the keyhole.

"Holy shit, y/n, what did you do?"

<tag list : @gethatcake @multifandombishthatlovekth @kimlineownsme @darkuni63 >

[bri-sonat]

NSFW Questions About Gwen's Big Five - Part Six

Questions are taken from this. The original poster deactivated their account, so it's the reblog that is linked. All the questions are modified and some are removed (either because the question had already been answered or because it referred to hetero relations.)

NSFW Questions About Gwen's Big Five Masterlist

A team effort between @daydream-cement and I, as per usual. With the occasional assistance from my dear @na-shoba.

Would they have a problem with going down on someone if they hadn’t shaved their pubic hair?

Brienne: No, Brienne does not care.

Larissa: No, Larissa doesn’t care.

Lucifer: Nope. Come as you are, both literally and figuratively.

Phasma: Doesn’t care, pussy is pussy.

Miranda: She has no preference!

If they could give themselves head, would they?

Brienne: Yes. Just to see how it is.

Larissa: “No. My hands are enough for me.” 

Lucifer: No. They prefer sex with partners. 

Phasma: Fuck yeah. With all the compliments she has gotten on her head, she’d kill to be able to experience it.

Miranda: Probably once, just to check it out. 

Booty or Boobs?

Brienne: Boobs.

Larissa: Booty. 

Lucifer: All. 

Phasma: Booty.

Miranda: Boobs.

Have they ever cheated on someone? (Why?)

Brienne: No, she has not and she never will. She loves her partner and will never stray.

Larissa: No way. Getting into a relationship with one person was hard enough, no need to add two to the mix. 

Lucifer: No. 

Phasma: She will not enter an exclusive relationship if she is not 100% sure that she is ready to commit. So once she is in a relationship, she will not stray. She may be evil, but she’s not an asshole.

Miranda: Welllllllllllll- Technically, yes? But the situation was convoluted. She knew it was wrong and wouldn’t do it again. 

If they were the other sex for a day, what are five things they would do?

Brienne: Breathe, be tall without fearing comments, be a knight without fearing remarks, be able to feel safe late at night without fearing godless men, go have sex with a woman, just to experience it, without fearing discrimination or a hate crime.

Larissa: Truthfully, she would be very unhappy about it. She really enjoys being a woman, so the first thing she would do would be to shapeshift back into a woman.

Lucifer: “What a silly little question.”

Phasma: “All I can do as a man, I can do as a woman. I’d do nothing different than I do every day.”

Miranda: Masturbate for sure. Then maybe enjoy work as she wouldn’t be judged for her appearance, go out to the bars, walk around at night, and flirt with women, but by the end, she would want to be back in her body again.

Have they ever watched someone masturbate?

Brienne: It takes a few years for her to be comfortable with it, but if her partner would want her to watch she wouldn’t be opposed.

Larissa: Yes. It was a no-touching thing she did with a girlfriend in college and she loved it. She thought it was very teasing and hot. 

Lucifer: They would happily watch their partner if they wanted. 

Phasma: Yes. At her command.

Miranda: She would LOVE to watch her partner pleasure themself. She would find it to be so hot. 

Has anyone ever watched them masturbate?

Brienne: No. And she wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it in front of anyone, she feels too vulnerable and exposed.

Larissa: Yes. She thought it was very hot and it led to amazing sex afterwards. 

Lucifer: They might indulge a partner if they asked, but Lucifer wouldn’t think up this idea themself. 

Phasma: No. No one gets to see her that unfortified and bare except for her romantic partner, of course. Her masturbation hours are for her only, she will let her romantic partner watch once or twice if they wished or as a teasing/punishment thing.

Miranda: No, but she would be open to it to tease her partner. 

What is their method of masturbation? (ie. toys, clitorial)

Brienne: Fingers. She’ll cycle in between clitoral and g-spot stimulation. She started with clitoral but as she resumed doing it, she’d insert a finger or two a couple of times after she had gotten comfortable and learned more about her body, thanks to her partner.

Larissa: Clitoral at first and usually use her fingers to fuck herself. If she is feeling extra, then she will pull out a dildo. 

Lucifer: They don’t really enjoy masturbation. 

Phasma: Either fingers or a sex toy if she’s feeling lazy and just wants it to be quick.

Miranda: A little bit of everything. It really depends on her mood. She loves toys and using her hands. She has no preference. 

What is the strangest thing they have ever put up their vagina?

Brienne: …Someone else’s fingers.

Larissa: When she was young, the handle of a hairbrush once. Nothing other than fingers and toys since then. 

Lucifer: Toys and someone else’s fingers.

Phasma: Nothing but silicone, rubber, and fingers.

Miranda: Toys and someone else’s fingers.

When was the last time they masturbated?

Brienne: She can’t recall. Could be weeks, could be months.

Larissa: Yesterday morning before work.

Lucifer: They don’t really like to masturbate. 

Phasma: Last night before bed.

Miranda: A couple of nights ago.

[chaos-ace]

UT AU INCORRECT QUOTES

Journey group edition (Kay, Moshie, Norman and Chace)

@glitchyk @moshieee @vexation-816

This is all for fun :]

Norman: That was the worst throw ever. Of all time.

Chace: Not my fault. Somebody put a wall in the way.

-

Chace: Accidentally indulged in too much ‘free time’, turns out I’ve been reported missing for over six months and presumed dead by most local and national authorities.

-

Norman: I hate you with every inch of my body!

Chace: That’s not a lot of inches.

-

Chace: God is no longer with us, I’ll take over.

-

Moshie: We all have our demons.

Kay, grabbing Chace: This one’s mine!

-

Chace: Might I make a suggestion you possibly won’t like?

Kay: Do you make any other kind?

-

Kay, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

-

Chace: I just found out that humans are capable of fitting a light bulb into their mouth with ease but can’t take it out without shattering it, and now I have to physically restrain myself from putting a light bulb in my mouth

-

Kay: No thanks.

Kay: I'm god.

-

Moshie: What's the most efficient way to burn calories?

Kay: Exercise more!

Chace: Set yourself on fire.

Norman: There are two kinds of people.

-

Kay: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk.

Chace: Go the fuck to sleep Kay.

Moshie: I wasn’t that drunk.

Kay: You colored my face with a highlighter because you said I was important.

Moshie: BECAUSE YOU ARE!

-

Chace: Make no mistake. Not only am I party rocking, but I am also in the house tonight.

Kay: But are you shuffling?

Chace: Everyday.

Norman: What language are you two speaking??

-

Moshie: *looks at Kay*

Moshie: Baby boy. Baby.

Moshie: *looks at Chace*

Moshie: Evil.

-

Norman, at Kay's funeral: I need a moment with them.

Everyone: Of course. *They leave*

Norman, leaning over Kay′s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead.

Kay: Yeah, no shit.

-

Norman, watching Kay do something stupid: Moshie, you're officially only the second highest risk here.

Moshie: Hell yeah! I'm gonna—

Norman: Don't finish that sentence, you'll move back up.

-

Moshie: I like to play this game called nap roulette. I take a nap and don’t set an alarm. Will it be 20 min or 4 hours? Nobody knows. It’s risky and I like it.

-

Norman: You have to apologize to Kay!

Chace: Fine!

Chace: Unfuck you, or whatever!

-

Chace: Two truths and a lie, I’ll start!

Chace: I’ve killed a man, I will kill again, and it burns when I pee.

Norman, visibly nervous: I don’t- I don’t like this game.

-

Chace: You seem familiar... have I threatened you before?

-

Norman: I feel like Kay is looking down on me.

Chace: That’s because they’re on the counter and you’re short.

-

Kay: You read my diary?

Chace: At first I did not know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

-

*The gang when they drop food on the floor*

Moshie: Aw man. *Throws it away*

Chace: Five second rule!

Norman: Foolish germs, thinking they can stop me!? *Eats it off the floor*

Kay: *Sobs on the floor*

*Comments under an image of a really hot knife cutting bread*

Chace: Imagine stabbing someone with this knife.

Kay: It would instantly cauterize the wound, so the person wouldn't bleed, so it's not very useful.

Moshie: if you want information it is

Norman: why would you STAB a person when you can have TOAST?

-

Kay: What is it called when you kill a friend?

Moshie: Homicide.

Norman: Murder.

Chace: Homiecide.

-

Kay: I have a bad feeling about this...

Chace: What do you mean?

Kay: Don't you ever get that little voice in your head that tells you if you're going to get into trouble?

Chace: No?

Moshie: That actually explains so much.

-

Norman: Look, I know we don’t always see eye to eye but—

Chace: Thats because your too short to do so.

Norman: ...Listen here you fucking—

-------

And we're done

[gryffintheparrotcat]

Hot take but bg3 doesn't have the awesome replayability it claims to have.

To get the most obvious point out the way first: 17,000 endings? Pure marketing there is like 5 unique endings and the rest is tiny details that don't change ending scenes. Realistically after you've seen one tav and one durge ending and made one of em good and one evil, you won't be replaying just for the other 3 endings.

And you won't replay for the sidequests and their outcomes either. How many sidequests are there in Act 1? How many in Act2? Barely any if any at all, almost of them link back to the mainquest and change with it so you've probably already seen it in your first good & evil playthroughs. And if they don't (namely Auntie Ethel, Baelen & Derryth , Omeluum and Zhentarim) they are short and only become relevant again in Act 3. Act 3 the place of endless amounts of sidequests that all boil down to 'defeat this boss' and then never affect anything else. You can do these quests in literally any fucking order and they will not change anything. The only order needed is murder tribunal -> Orin and Iron Throne -> Steel watch -> Gortash. And both of these can be fully or partially skipped depending on if you want to save the Gondians and if you're Durge.

And let's entirely be honest here, as fun as it is to make a new tav or durge concept, once you know the endings and some few major choices, you know how their story will play out. Do I start those playthroughs anyways? Yes. Did I finish any of them yet? No, I struggle to find a reason why I should if I can already predict how the major story beats will play out, I spend most of my time making a new character with trying to find a way to combine an interesting tav idea with a companion I haven't romanced before or with a specific major choice for a companion that I haven't played before.

Which brings me to actually reasons to replay the game:

1) Romancing a different companion, because that's literally the only way to get to know them. Except romancing a different companion doesn't change anything major except some parts of the ending epilogue dialogue, so you'll be replaying the exact same playthrough again but this time you romance Gale instead of Wyll and get 3 new scenes you haven't seen before in a total of what? 100 playhours?. But for each companion there are story changing choices too, only changes like 2 scenes with said companion and nothing else, but wouldn't you want to see those too?. Alright another 100 hours except this time the choices only change 1 scene and happen 50hrs into the exact same playthrough as your previouse Astarion romance.

And nr 2) trying out builds. Because you can't actually try out combos in Act 3, both because there is a very finite amount of enemies with very specific weaknesses and resistances and because some build changing items are in previous acts and you can't go back. If you want to try out a build you best hope you have the perfect coincidental save to reload to (and lose all progress or not save the changes... fun) or you better prepare to replay the entire damn game just to try out if 6 levels paladin and 6 levels sorcerer work well together or not. And the companions don't help here either. We have two humans, five elves (with 2 wood 2 high 2 half elves, yay!) a githyanki and a tiefling. How many of these actually have unique racial features? Your build would work better with halfling luck or duegar invisibility? Tough luck. Make a new tav. Most of the time first 5 levels aren't even worth multiclassing at unless you want to make the game unnecessarily difficult, dragging your new playthrough out even longer.

I have 600 playhours and I still don't know anything about Lae'zel, Shadowheart or Karlach because my romance runs for them are all not past Act 1 yet. And it doesn't matter how fun it feels to have a powerful build in act 3 or how fun it is to find a new story possibility. If I have to go spend like 50hrs to reach the part that's interesting. Even worse when I can't be bothered to loot things anymore, leading to me missing out on vital loot all because I didn't want to turn the stone at the grove for the 12th time. My choice here is get burned out from turning every rock every time or burn out because skipping through everything, making it unnecessarily hard, blocking potential builds and missing quests/dialogue/etc ruins the whole roleplay part that would motivate me to make a new playthrough in the first place.

Not to mention the fact that I'm struggling to make the character creator fun, it's always been lacking options but with 20 playthroughs open to go, I've already used all of them. I'm trying to choose a different face and hairstyle (gave up on makeup and body art being unique a hot while ago) for each character to make them unique but with all elves sharing faces and all half elves sharing faces and already having used at least 2 face from each race it's starting to look pretty samey here. And I'd love to use a ton of mods but the game by itself already breaks when it's update time.

The point is that no matter how much the game likes to pretend, choices don't matter that much, not in the character creator, not in the story, at best a little in who you romance but even then the difference is a few scenes. This is only made worse by larian confirming that the evil run is purposfully so short and lacking because "it's supposed to feel bad. You killed these people, now you miss out on their questlines." I'm here to explore different story outcomes, not to be punished for picking options the game gave me! An evil playthrough can be made to feel bad without punishing the player for picking an option you gave them. Not to mention the fact that there is barely any way if any way at all to be more nuanced? All options are either heroically good or comically evil, if you're lucky you get the third option to do good but ask for payment... yay... I'm sure that will totally not play exactly like the good playthrough.

The game is fun, hell I have 600 playhours. Not all of them where spent in burn out limbo. But I could've easily stopped at 150hrs after finishing my good tav and evil durge and I wouldn't have missed much.

[arcplaysgames]

So as far as beach episodes go: P4G > P3P > P5R

this one was a snoozefest, so let's touch on the important bits that stand out and then talk about Beige Boy and Solid Snake.

One, I have fully turned against Ryuji on the basis of his frequent and repeated disregard for Morgana as a part of the team and frankly as a full person. I am getting really teed the fuck off because for the last five hours or so of gametime, I have been watching Mona get more and more anxious about his place and about whether anyone on the team cares about him and his journey to the heart of Mementos

and at every fucking opportunity, Ryuji basically reinforces to Morgana yeah, you're not really one of the guys, you're not really part of the team, you're the mascot.

If I had agency in the world of this game, I would take Ryuji aside for a Fucking Discussion about this, because the fuse is lit and I am certain we are headed for a rift between Morgana and the team,a nd you know what? I'm on Morgana's side. He should be pissed, he should be hurt, because I'm hurt on his behalf just watching this unfold.

Fucking Ryuji, you are the bottom barrel of the Token Best Friends. Yosuke would never do me like this*. And if Junpei were here, he'd be Morgana's BFF, are you kidding.

(* in fact yosuke did the Literal Opposite and adopted the 'mascot character' lmao fuck you ryuji)

Yusuke is the fucking load-bearing column holding this game up, i swear to god. I have never understood the Moronsexual joke until right now. I imagine Reverie is like "I have to marry him, he'd be fucking hopeless without me???? it's just the right thing to DO"

Alas, Atlus hates me.

Futaba trying to grab the lobsters while Yusuke holds them out of her reach is the best rigging and animation this game has given us thus far.

Futaba picks her name, Oracle. And she is explicitly here to learn more about her mother's research, less to save people. Which is respectable and she's very up front about it.

THAT'S THE BEACH TRIP. like this one just was..... ugh. it had the weird queerphobic stuff again and it pulled the "the boys try to pull girls and fail" gag again but this time with ZERO charm at all. I remember that scene in P4G with Kanji, Yosuke, and Reverie was one of my favorites because it was genuinely really funny. This had nothing.

SIGH. WHATEVER. LET'S TALK ABOUT MORE INTERESTING STUFF.

blah blah blah evil evil evil blah blah blah

i have at this point accepted that Persona just sucks at foreshadowing the Big Bad of their games and P3 was a fluke. interested to see how P2 does when I eventually play it.

oh shit this game caught some of the Sony Hot Sad Dads disease, huh? Iwai has a dweeby looking son named Kaoru and he's ex-yakuza.

Do I like Iwai or do i just miss MGS2 Solid Snake? Who could say.

Also his shop theme tune fucks severely, it sounds like SMT4.

Anyway, after that we're having very domestic funtime at the cafe when

oh shit Beige Alert

Futaba immediately hides behind Reverie because she got Vibe Radar. Vibedar, if you will.

I feel like when Akechi enters your vicinity, your phone should get one of those emergency PSAs. Like when a tornado touches down in your county.

Okay so. /points. Eyes closed.

/points.

The fuck is happening here. Like, bruh, you showed up and immediately mentioned the lady who threatened Sojiro's custody of his daughter, and now you are looking like a wounded puppy because it turned the atmosphere frosty.

You did that, homeboy, that was you. I know you are astute enough to know that.

He sadly drinks his coffee and reveals his backstory: he was raised by a single mom who died soon after, then got stuck in the foster care system for a while.

THAT FAKEASS SMILE AGAIN. See, this is why I know he stirred up the hostile energy on his arrival on purpose, he is extremely good at tone and social cues, enough so that he can use or not use them to his advantage.

I would tell Reverie to install a deadbolt on his door but he doesn't have a door lmao this is going to be great

I keep saying this but: Bryan Fuller vibes. My god, Bryan Fuller vibes.

Futaba realizes she missed the fireworks festival so she runs out to get some small fireworks, and Morgana goes with her to make sure she's okay.

Morgana is the fucking best. He really gives a shit and puts himself out there for people and I just want him to be appreciated dammit!

This is Reverie's family now, yep. See that gurl? She is his sister. See that old man? That's his dad. Yep!

Also Sojiro doesn't even know Morgana is a person and treats him better than Ryuji.

yeah this is me going full kill bill sirens on Ryuji, sorry. i will slam dunk him into a fucking dumpster, i'm so angry with him for his MANY MANY fuck ups and, specifically, how he doesn't seem to learn or grow from any of them.

I think that's my beef with him. Like, P3P, Junpei did multiple big fuck ups, but he both apologized explicitly for them and also learned from them and became a better person for it. He was my ultimate ride or die. I romanced Akihiko but my true love was my broship with Junpei.

Yosuke also fucked up a lot and even went full Joker Mode once, but he also experienced one of the longest arcs of character growth in the game. I remember when I started to like him after being tepid on him for the first third of the game and how annoyed I was that he was growing as a person!!!! But he wound up being a fave.

I need Ryuji to get his shit together and start growing tf up bc I am real sick of his self-important bullshit and how he steps on Morgana's feelings. I am hoping whatever the upcoming blow-up with Morgana is leads him to wake tf up, but also I'm not holding my breath.

At least I have Ann and Yusuke.

[unknownjpegs]

question, answer

"This is a sharp disposal container.”

Xavier’s mom holds it up. The little red plastic box looks ominous, black biohazard symbol shiny, warning label text too small to read unless his nose is pressed to it. He cannot fathom what all of it says, or what it means that something he’s stabbing into his body goes into that when he’s d one. It looks overwhelming in her small, freckled hand. Lark stares at it with upturned, nervous brows. She looks back at him with a serious expression.

“When you’re done with your injection, you put your needles in this box and this box only. Okay, Elias?” He nods quickly. She pauses and slowly slides the box across the bathroom counter until it’s next to his injection supplies. He drums his fingers on it, his other arm crossed over his chest.

“Oh, sweetie, do you want me to do it for you?”

“No,” Lark answers quickly, tone unfortunately very on edge. “It’s just like—uh, very Resident Evil, you know?” Lorelai Wolffe looks at him with narrowed, confused eyes. Then she throws her hands up into the air.

“Whatever that means. You just let me know if you need me, okay? I’ve been doing shots for people since before you were born.” She points to her eyes and then to the sharp disposal container and then to him. Lark salutes, which makes her soften with a smile. “C’mere.” She tugs Lark close by his biceps, peppering kisses into his moppish black hair. He blushes immediately, stiffens at the sudden affection.

He doesn’t know where to place it—her motherly love that he isn’t even sure he’s earned. Xavier’s mother just gives it without asking. Not that he’d been given a free couch to sleep on. Lark was up on Sundays doing chores with Xavier. His class grades were monitored and like the other Wolffe children, he was nagged to brush his teeth morning and night. But, Lark could handle all of that. It was nearly reminiscent of his own mother—even if Lorelai did most of her parenting with a smile—but it was the affection that always made him skittish.

When she draws away, Xavier’s mother cups his cheeks for a moment. Lark finds it hard to meet her eye.

“Oh my God, mom.”

“Xavier Wolffe, you do not—”

“You gotta go, this is private.” Xavier starts to wedge himself between his mother and the bathroom door. He pushes softly at her shoulders. She barely—barely—comes up to his chest. Somewhere along the way Xavier had gone from incredibly scrawny and small, to six-foot-three overnight. Everyone in the house dissolved into near tears every time he accidentally smacked his long limbs into something, because he was so uncoordinated it was like living with a new born moose.

“If it’s so private, why are you here?”

“This is guy time,” Xavier replies, flapping hands. His mother raises a pointed finger and his hands immediately drop, eyebrows raised. His eyes go puppyish and Lark knows then that she will absolutely cave—because Xavier is, at the end of the day, her son. Lark fiddles with the edge of the plastic on the needle he’ll shortly be poking himself with, rather than looking up at the two. He hears the door close.

“Dude,” Xavier says softly.

Lark holds up the still plastic wrapped needle with a smile.

“Your juice.”

“Oh, come on, don’t fucking say it like that,” Lark groans as he sits on the toilet. The bathroom is a little too small for both of them. His mother had fit because she was thin and small and Lark was struggling to grow taller than five-five. But Xavier finds a way to get himself onto the edge of the tub, looking at Lark with big, excited eyes.

“Are you, like, gonna do it?”

“Obviously.”

Lark stays sitting there for a moment, just looking at Xavier. Another minute passes. And then another. He takes the needle and the little vial and looks down at them. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears, loud, roaring. The sound of the family living room outside the door is almost louder; they’re watching some T.V. show together. They’ll have dinner in an hour. It’s pizza night.

“Can you help?”

Xavier leans in, his big smile taking up all of his long, handsome face.

“Show me what to do.”

There’s a small moment where it gets awkward, as Lark shoves down his jeans. He looks at Xavier, who looks at him, with wide innocent eyes.

“The lady said to put the heel of your hand here.” He puts his palm to his thigh and lays it flat. His briefs go down a little too far so he pulls the edge back a little. “You put your hand on my knee—man, your hand might be too fucking big.” Xavier laughs as he cups Lark’s knee. The warm contact of Xavier’s palm makes goosebumps pepper along his leg. He arranges the hands better and then stares down at his pale, smooth thigh.

“Okay,” Lark says, his fingers beginning to tingle. His other knee bounces until Xavier puts his hand there too. Flattens it down with that stupid jock strength. “Thanks.” He works off the red cap of the vial, then arranges the needle. He stares at it for the longest moment, before he begins.

“This is so Resident Evil,” Xavier mumbles, wide eyed.

“You couldn’t even get through the first part of the house,” Lark reminds him, staring with concentration as the needle slowly fills with the murky yellow liquid. He swiftly safety caps it. “You needed me to help you with the dogs.”

“The dogs were fucking scary, man.”

“I don’t think I can do this, Xavier,” Lark says, staring at the spot in his thigh. He swallows and suddenly feels his chest expanding too quickly. Some strange, cold sweat breaks out across his forehead, the back of his neck. He thinks of his room, back home—back home, home—and the dresses in the closet. He thinks of his parents, who didn’t care. Didn’t care he was trans, did not care he was not a girl. He thinks of them, not caring. Not being opposed, but not—just not fucking caring. Lark inhales and then exhales in a wide gulp.

“Oh, easy,” Xavier leans forward, his knee on the tiled floor. His hand cups behind Lark’s neck, looking at him. “C’mon, Lark. You had a calendar on the wall marking the days off to get this shit. It’s just a needle.”

“It’s biohazard waste.”

“Well, because of the like, blood or whatever.”

“The lady said there shouldn’t be that much blood.” Lark’s voice goes high pitched. Xavier’s hand squeezes and makes him jump a little. Both their eyes swing to the capped needle. Xavier’s hand falls away from his neck and then gently takes it. For some reason, it looks comically different in Xavier’s hand. Smaller. Less threatening.

“On the count of three.” He uncaps it and holds it over Lark’s thigh. “And then you get a Batman bandaid.” Lark stares at him and he winces. “Sorry, dude. It’s all we had.”

“One. Two.”

The needle pokes into Lark’s thigh.

Then it comes out, clean. No blood. Xavier safety caps it again and then pokes it into the red sharp disposal container with the shiny black biohazard symbol. He takes the bandaid from the sink, splits it open, smooths it over pale skin. The entire time, Lark watches with his jaw dropped, lips in the shape of a perfect ‘o’. He blinks a few times and then Xavier slowly leans back until he’s sitting on the floor, long legs outstretched on either side of the toilet that Lark sits on.

“Whoa,” Lark says quietly. They share a smile then and Lark thinks to say thank you, but instead the door gets wrenched open. He shrieks then, hastily jerking at his jeans as Xavier’s sister, Emily, stands in the door. Her face turns a shade of red that seems neon.

“Why didn’t you knock?” Xavier snaps, scrambling to stand.

“Mom wants to know what pizza topping you want. I told her pepperoni—”

“Lark likes white pizza—”

“White pizza is boring and—”

The door closes, silencing the conversation and giving Lark a moment to stare at the little red box on the bathroom counter.

***

Matilda bends over the bathroom counter in a way that makes Lark look at the sensual curve of her spine. He flattens a hand on her lower back and slowly slides up, fingers drawing a pattern over the nape of her neck and then back down. She shivers, strands of her pretty hair falling over her bare, pale shoulder. She’d recently gone with a dark purple color, and Lark had admittedly, selfishly it was one of his favorites. Made her eyes pop. Made her stand out in a room, like she should.

“Stop teasing me,” she mumbles, tucking her chin over her shoulder and staring at him with those eyes that stand out luminescent amongst all that dark hair. Lark smiles, his fingers pinching the cup of her ass and then he takes a step back to angle the needle right. It’s a quick poke, but it takes a minute to depress all the estrogen. While he does, his eyes lift to look at her, as she stares at him.

“Taking it like a good girl,” he purrs and she rolls her eyes.

“You’re corny for that,” she comments and then he withdraws the needle. Lark pats the spot with the cotton swab, and then presses on the little dot bandaid she prefers.

Matilda’s shirtless, so when she turns around to face him, Lark gets instantly distracted. His eyes fall on the swell of her breasts, his hands making paths up her sides. He feels her shiver with the sensation, leaning in to put his mouth on one. Her hand stops him, flat on his forehead.

“Lark, be so for real, are you into med fet? You cannot be getting horny every time we do this.”

“I am into boobs,” Lark explains, brows crawling up his forehead as her hand slides from pressing against him to brushing his hair back. It’s his turn to shiver at the feel of her longer, manicured nails scratching across his scalp. Lark puts arms around her middle, tugs her just a bit close. Matilda is pouting, an expression that he never found endearing until her.

“That one hurt,” she complains. He’s sure. The needle she uses is a different gage then his. And she doesn’t have injections on the same frequent level as him—he’d discovered HRT didn’t work interchangeably for them. But it had been interesting to learn it all. Lark tries to lean in again, eyes very focused on a nipple. Instead, Matilda presses her hand on the hollow of his throat, and her sharp thumbnail points his chin up.

“Very t-for-t of you to be into this,” Matilda teases. Lark’s eyes widen as she slides slowly to her knees. The sight alone is enough for something sparking white and hot to overtake his insides. The way she purses her lips, knowingly, beautifully, makes it worse.

“I will be, like, whatever you want if you’re about to do what I think you’re about—okay,” Lark exhales the word noisily as Matilda slides one of his muscular legs over her shoulder.

—

“Do you think about what you’d do if you and Benji broke up?”

Xavier looks up from the sub sandwich in confusion. A banana pepper dangles from his mouth, as well as shredded lettuce. The sub nearly falls apart in his lap so Lark leans over and tugs it further up. They sit on the stage, watching the show clean up, food supplied by the venue. Best subs in all Pennsylvania, they’d boasted and Matilda had snorted and almost argued.

“Uh,” Xavier pushes the pepper into his mouth and chews. “Only if I’m trying to make myself cry on command.” It makes Lark laugh and look back to the roadies. Benny helps carry the equipment, his hat nearly falling off. He watches Matilda lean in and correct it, tuck a strand of his white blond hair back underneath it.

“It’s like,” Lark looks down at his own food, mostly untouched. “You’re at that point where, you’re either going to do it, right? Forever. Like commit to it. Or you’re going to have the most painful break up of your life.” He pulls a black olive off the sub and contemplates eating it.

“Should I be worried that Benji is about to break up with me?” He doesn’t sound worried. Xavier bites into the end of his sub again, fillings pushing out the other side. He’d overstuffed it, because once he heard it was free, he’d asked for almost every item on the menu. Lark watches him chew, bemused expression on his freckly, pale face. Benji is only a few feet back, working on his drums.

What is that like? To feel that confident. To know everything. To not be afraid.

“No,” Lark says, using his hands to help him talk, gesture his way through it. “But if he did, you’d lose it, right?”

“Dude.” Xavier stuffs the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. He chews and swallows and dusts off his chest of the little bits and crumbles and then turns to fully look at Lark. “Why are you thinking about this?”

“That’s terrifying,” Lark comments, deciding against the olive. Against the sandwich. He puts it to the side and then slowly slides off the stage. His legs are sore from the amount of running he’d done the whole show. His throat hurts—and he should be resting his voice, but he isn’t. Because Xavier has always been the one that made decisions feel less big.

“Oh, man. I think I’m about to ask Matilda to live with me. I think, I’m going to like, ask her to never break up with me, ever.”

“Uh. Like marriage.”

“No, that’s absolutely too far. But, the thing before that, but after casual dating.” Xavier gives him a look that says, you’re so fucking hopeless.

“She’s coming over here, by the way.”

Lark yanks his hands out his hair, shoving them into his back pockets. He watches Matilda hop around the cables on the floor that Nomi is organizing. He watches her look up from under her lashes as she does and smile. Lark swallows and exhales—then inhales a giant breath of air that doesn’t seem to go anywhere. Just gets stuck in his chest. It expands so big it feels like he’s going to break open. Little fizzles of him will go everywhere.

“Count of three, Lark. One, two,—”

Xavier kicks him squarely in the back and sends him stumbling toward Matilda. And he is so scared, but when her arms drape over his shoulders, Lark looks up and thinks, this isn’t scary at all. She sighs dramatically, theatrical with her exhaustion as she puts their foreheads together. This isn’t scary, if it’s her.

“I have a question for you,” he says softly.

“I’ve got an answer,” she answers cheekily, her smile curling, pretty and all her.

I know you do, he thinks. Isn’t that funny? I know you do.

—

Lark slides the vials of estrogen into his bathroom cabinet. He looks at them, lined up, on the side that is now Matilda’s. There’s nail polish and four different kinds of lotion, and a cream she uses on her face at night. Lark moves them so the labels face outward, because that seems right. Then he feels a yank around his middle and he’s suddenly stumbling backward.

“See? I knew you were into medical shit. You are so weird, Lark.” Matilda’s voice is right against his ear. Her warm breath tickles his freshly bleached hair. He snorts and turns, shoving her flat back onto the bed that had once just been his. Bags of her stuff are in the room, ready to unpack.

And it’s not like permanent because she has her own place (a really, admittedly, nice place), but until they figure out which place is the best, it’s something shared instead. He pulls his shirt off from the back of his neck, stalking toward her on the bed.

“You’re so not beating the allegations, acting like that after unpacking my stuff in the bathroom.” Despite what she says, Matilda’s knees widen to accept his body between them. Her hands dance up across his toned abdomen. Her eyes are dark. Pretty. The new hair is a bright yellow and orange ombre. He likes it. He just likes her.

“You know what? I’m okay with that,” Lark reasons, snarky and mean as he crawls over her on the bed and presses swift kisses to her cheek. Over and over and then on the bridge of her nose, making her giggle until it’s high pitched and she’s shoving at him. Half hearted, because she likes it. Likes him.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 225

Inside Man/Kill the Moon

“Inside Man”

Plot Description: Sam and Castiel set out on a mission to find a cure for the Mark of Cain, and Crowley’s relationship with Rowena is put to the rest

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: No one died

Goddammit, let Bobby rest!! He earned that

(Cut to 24 hours earlier)

It’s a good thing the brothers know each other like that because Sam wanting to go off to some other city to see a foreign film on their off day is not convincing me as the viewer. How that convinced Dean, I don’t know

If we want to get…….oh. It wasn’t “if we want to get rid of the Mark, we have to get rid of Dean” it’s “it’s we have to get back in cahoots with Metatron”

Crowley, can you KNOCK?!

She looks stunning in purple…the costumers have been so wonderful to me

She’s got herself a lil boy toy…maybe. Or she made up a boy toy to cover up her real motives, which is even funnier

Cas isn’t allowed in heaven?!

🥹Hannah🥹 it does make me sad to see them opposing each other though

How do you break Metatron out of jail……….oh. That’s why they need Bobby, I bet

“You can be damned AND a conscientious worker” man, you don’t HAVE to be though

How does Dean have that many people in his phone? No offense, man

Sam’s :/ yet undeterred face when faced with a billion “No trespassing” and “keep out” signs

I love sasstiel. “And you’re….what ARE you?” “…I’m an angel” “that…no you can’t be” “why not?”

This psychic calling Metatron a creepy hobbit lookin fellow. It honestly made me laugh out loud in the break room

Dean…now you’re just being mean. There’s hustling someone at pool and then there’s taking that kid’s watch that his dad gave him. Yeah he’s an asshole college kid, but damn

There is no rest for Bobby…

She dressed up so nicely to go try to kill Dean, and she’s so unrepentantly evil. Fuck, I love her so much.

Ewwww…the structure of heaven is really…terrible. It’s all sterile hallways with alphabetized rooms where every individual person gets their version of heaven. It’s not what it should be

GIRLIE!!! You literally cut yourself up and blamed Dean to get Crowley to turn on him. And I love how she absolutely cuts Crowley to the core with her words

Omg a revolt of all the Robert and Roberto and Roberta Singers that Bobby broke out of their respective heavens

That was such a funny action movie sequence. Cas jumping into the portal to heaven and sliding through the door

“Dean has given up” “And you idjits haven’t.” “Would you?” “Hell no” Cas and Bobby deserved more screen time together

God, this sit down talk between Dean and Crowley…they ARE friends. They’re somehow still friends

I hate Metatron as much as the next guy (and the next guys have called him a creepy hobbit and a fraggle, so…) but him calling Cas Asstiel will never not be funny

YES, CAS! “You’re gonna be MY punching bag”

I promise I still hate him but he gets so many funny lines. How much time did he spend thinking about

I am…so damn impressed with Sam and Cas’s plan. They just STOLE METATRON’S GRACE AND THEN SAM SHOT HIM IN THE LEG just to get the leverage they need

I want her to burn it all down. I appreciate that Crowley is choosing himself, and it’s great for him…but I want her to go ballistic, just completely of the deep end with rage. I need it like air

I’m not lying when I say that Bobby telling Sam in a letter that he’s a good man, one of the best, and he’s damn proud of him is making me tear up. With all the doubts that Sam’s had that he’s a good person, that he’s not just cursed…

“Kill the Moon”

Plot Description: The Doctor and Clara crash land on the Moon to find a world of horror

This…only takes place 26 years from RIGHT NOW. 2014 was such an optimistic time. Y’all really thought we’d be going to the moon again? I wish I could believe that. PEOPLE? On the MOON?!

Please tell me that the astronaut that was in the cold open with Clara is a future Courtney Woods! (I love that she’s back in the post opening credits scene, so THAT is what I’m holding out hope for)

Oh…not future Courtney…present Courtney is on the moon

“One small thing for a thing. One enormous thing for a thingything” honestly, I’m not mad at her. First girl on the moon and those are her first words on the surface? Love it for her

The shuttle says United States, WHY does everyone still have an accent from across the pond? The TARDIS doesn’t need to translate it. They’re all speaking English

WHY ARE THERE SPIDERWEBS IN THE ABANDONED SHELTER?!?! WHO BROUGHT SPIDERS TO THE MOON????

Nooooooooo. No I don’t like whatever’s living here

THAT IS A HUGE AND GROSS SPIDER. This is also the worst soundscape I’ve ever experienced. It’s the amplified sound of weird skittering and then IT ECHOES BECAUSE WHY NOT

Courtney Woods 2024. I don’t care that she’s not American, in the face of great danger (a giant spider) she was cool calm collected enough to do what needed to be done (all purpose cleaner it to death. Kills 99.9% of all germs. I guess huge spiders count, too)

THAT WAS A MOON GERM?!?! No. I refuse to accept it. Why? I hate it

I also don’t like knowing what the twist is. I know I’ve said it before but so much of the Moffat era is depends on not knowing the twist

Courtney is an ICON. She retches in the TARDIS, which sends her a little off the rails because the Doctor then tells her she’s not special, so Clara tries to get the Doctor to just take that statement back, but that’s not good enough for him, he needs to make the statement untrue, she has to be special now, so he takes her to the FREAKING MOON where she becomes a sort of hero because no one knew how to kill the giant spider looking germs, and the second she’s sent to the TARDIS for her own safety, what does she do? POST PICTURES OF HER TRIP TO TUMBLR

I need to know…ok, the actress playing the astronaut was 47 when this was filmed. If we take that age and make it her character’s age in this episode, that means this character is 47 in 2049. She is 21 today. She was 12 when this episode aired…do not come into my hellsite and tell me “my granny used to post things on tumblr” Your granny MAY very well be here for all I know, but don’t pretend you weren’t, too. YOU ARE NOT THAT FAR IN THE FUTURE. You signed up on your 13th birthday in 2015. I cannot let this go. “Courtney’s posting stuff to tumblr, doesn’t that know where you are?” “I don’t know, I’m not a historian” BITCH. WHAT. STOP THIS BLASPHEMY RIGHT NOW

Oof, now we’ve entered the part of the episode that’s gonna make me mad but not in a fun way.

The optimism that we could have a female president by the time 2049 rolls around…..

You can’t expect someone with an amount of Time Lord DNA to go kill hitler if they were in 1930s Germany?? Really??? Have you forgotten your wife so soon?

So they’re letting Earth democratically vote whether or not to blow up the moon, which is an egg, by whether or not they turn out their lights. Lights out on earth means lights out for the moon. It’s not even a close vote (but I’ve now had the ending spoiled for me and I’m not happy about it)

And then Clara decides on her own that ALL OF EARTH’s decision wasn’t as important as her own feelings on the matter. And to make matters worse, she gets justified in her actions by the narrative because everything worked out anyway no harm done

Is that really what we should be doing though? I’m not saying checking out our own space neighborhood wouldn’t be interesting but every time in this rewatch when they mention some human colony out in space somewhere…like, SHOULD WE BE COLONIZING SPACE THOUGH?! And it’s gonna last FOREVER?!

Wait. Pausing how much this episode makes me mad to say Courtney ACTUALLY becomes president of the United States?!

Ok but honestly, how much DID the Doctor know? Because if he knew that it would all work out and how humanity starts to travel to the stars because of this day and didn’t let them make an INFORMED DECISION, that’s…I can understand why Clara is so upset with him right now. She took the fate of humanity in her own hands and didn’t know how it would shake out, but the Doctor might have and he just fucking vanished. She has every right to be furious with him

She will never look at the moon the same way again

[phoenixyfriend]

Rey Gives No F*cks About the Grandfather Paradox

Okay so since nobody’s suggested a fic under these terms, I ended up expanding on this post on discord and things snowballed. We kept to the basics of the entire plot revolving around Rey really hating her grandad and leveraging her blood relation to not be unalived about it.

With contributions by @atagotiak​, @dracothulhu​, @thepallaspalace​, and several others. The title comes from @gelpenss​.

The basic thing I absolutely need is this: Rey gets thrown back to the middle of the clone wars, and the subsequent plot leans in really heavily on her being, genetically-via-clone-dad, the daughter of the guy running the entire galaxy.

Nobody knows what to do with her.

The timing is mid-TCW for the past (because I want Ahsoka there) and vaguely between Episodes 8 and 9 because I... never watched E9 and don’t want to worry about the timeline. The only things that matter is that Luke is dead (he can die as he did in canon) and that Rey knows she’s Palp’s granddaughter (not the way she does in canon).

We'll say Luke found out from Anakin's panicked force-ghost and just went "well, fuck, okay, I should tell her this before she ends up in a situation like mine and finds out mid-battle or something."

Luke, prior to time-travel: Okay, so, now that I'm dead I know some things I didn't before. Like who your parents were. In the interest of full disclosure because I was in a very similar situation and I don't want you learning the way I did, I'm just going to come right out and say that your father was a clone was Sheev Palpatine. Rey: ... Luke: Are you okay? Rey: I don't know who that is.

(She grew up on Jakku, the history education was a little subpar.)

Setting The Scene

Imagine Rey showing up during or immediately before the clone wars. There’s this phenomenally powerful feral teenager from a desert backwater who tells you that if you ran a paternity test, it would probably pop up the Chancellor. She may or may not bring up cloning. She accuses said Chancellor of being a Sith Lord.

Your other phenomenally powerful feral teenager from a desert backwater, who may not be a teenager anymore but only barely, is very offended by this because Palpatine’s a Very Nice Old Grandfather Figure, but also he’s a little full of side-eye because if the blood test comes back as proof, then Palpatine had a kid and didn’t even know about them, or lied to Anakin, and that’s! Bad! Family’s important!!!

Palpatine hears about this daughter he apparently? Has? And is very confused because the timing doesn’t match up with ANYTHING he was doing, so the kid isn’t natural, and he says as much. (There is an explanation! It’s not a correct explanation, but he does come up with one.)

Finn and Poe and BB-8 all get dragged along because why not have the gang there? Nobody that’s already born, because [handwave] conservation of souls or something, IDK, point is the only person dragged along that’s even remotely close to already existing is Luke’s Force Ghost, who mostly hangs around begging Rey to be less impulsive. Finn is good because he is a nice polite boy, but for actual useful information they need Poe. The unfortunate situation is that the three do not land together. They land at the same time, in completely different corners of the galaxy. This means that nobody is there to curb Rey being her most impulsive self.

Time travel Rey knows two things. Luke’s dad ends up evil. Palpatine has always been evil.

She can solve one of these problems by killing the other, yes?

Rey: Ready to Rumble

See, the initial idea was this: Rey tried to break into the senate to kill Palpatine, got arrested, and then used the "he's biologically my father" card to get out of jail free. (Force Ghost Luke follows her like “please take five seconds to think this through.”)

But.

But.

It would be very, very, very funny if The Force just dumps her in a flash of light in the senate building and she just attacks Gramps on sight. Just a shouted "YOU!" and no-hesitation attempted murder.

Palpatine has no idea what's going on.

Rey took maybe two seconds to get identity confirmation and then started swinging.

[Image Description: An individual in a green metal helmet with an eye slit, holding a pistol. In the upper left, upper right, and lower middle are the phrases “I do not know who I am...” “I don’t know why I’m here” and “All I know is that I must kill.” End description.]

Of course, she gets arrested. There are Master Jedi in the Senate. There are Clone Troopers. Palpatine isn’t the weak old man he pretends to be. Of course she’s stopped.

But she isn’t executed in time for Palpatine to stop her from ruining his entire reputation.

Immediately after Rey fails to kill her Shitty Granddad, Luke's ghost shows up and begs her to not talk about the Sith thing because it will completely undermine everything she's trying to do. Pass off the attempted murder as something else!

Rey, panicking: "that fucker left me on a desert planet for 10 years!" "You owe me 19 years of child support you son of a Hutt!"

The Jedi have to do the investigation, because the girl showed up with a laser sword, and the conversation is, uh... interesting. (“Where did you get that lightsaber?” “I got it from a mysterious old pirate lady I never met before. I don't know, I was being shown around by a smuggler and a Wookie.”)

Interviewer: Why did you try to assassinate the Chancellor? Luke: Say it wasn't assassination. Rey: It wasn't assassination. Int: You weren't trying to kill him? Luke: Assassination has to be politically motivated. Rey: This was, um... not political. Assassination is political, right? Int: You mean this was personally motivated? Rey: Yes. Int: I see. What personal motivation? Luke: Jakku! Rey: He's my grandfather. Int: ... Rey: Possibly father. Nobody was very clear on that. Int: ... Luke: Tell them to run a paternity test. Rey: Oh hey, a blood test would tell us which, right? Int: ............ Rey: I spent ten years as an orphaned scrapdealer on Jakku. He's my father. I'm kind of a little angry. Int: ........... Luke: Good job, kid. You bought yourself some time. Int: I'm going to get a medic to see about that parternity test.

Obviously, it comes back positive. Congratulations, Sheev, you’re the father.

Rey comes with a ready-made built-in excuse for hating Palpatine that nobody can question or fault her for!

Rey, pouring Truth into the Force: I didn't even know I was related to the Chancellor until a few months ago, but it's his fault I grew up the way I did, and he should take some responsibility!

The entire thing is mostly kept hush hush but someone leaks it to the press and Palpatine's ratings tank.

"Chancellor, I think we'll need to waive family visitation until she wants you a little less dead." "I would like to find out why she wants me dead, and indeed, where she came from." "...sir, for your own safety--"

Who would win? A master plan years in the making spanning decades of manipulating and work? or One (1) paternity test

"Okay, so, Rey Palpat--" "Ew, no, I don't want his name." "You--okay. Sure, we can understand that. Is there a name you would prefer to put on the paperwork?" Rey, who would have gone by Skywalker in honor of Luke but can't do that when Anakin is right there and all: "Can I think about it?"

Rey: I don't know what I want my last name to be but I know I don't want his, and most of the people I’d want a name from have famous families like you... Luke's ghost, pointing out the Literal Nobody that she cares about a lot: How about Solo? Rey: ...Solo, then.

(A few months later she runs into Poe again and he offers for Finn and Rey to both take his name because honestly they need SOMETHING but at that point she’s already decided on Smuggler Dad.)

Backtrack a bit. We’ve got a bigger cast.

They all arrive separately. Poe, for one, does better than Rey, who is aiming for a murder, but not quite as well as Finn, who is currently being adopted and hidden like a secret cat by a bunch of Alpha Clones on Kamino. He vibes with the names-or-numbers thing. He doesn’t necessarily tell them where and when he’s from, but he’s very sweet and a great liar and they adopt him wholesale anyway.

The Finn situation is just... "Buir Ti, we need you to hide this man, we've decided he's our little brother but if Nala Se finds out she'll make him leave."

Of course, this leads into Shaak Ti teaching Finn how to Jedi.

Maybe consider Finn needing to almost be tricked into learning Jedi things because he willfully forgets it could apply to him. Finn does not like to think of himself as special, which is super valid, but frustrating for Shaak Ti when it comes to, you know, getting him to acquire knowledge. Finn's training at some point is "here, levitate objects with the Force to entertain the tubies." It’s a lot easier to convince him to practice when it involves the babies.

(Everyone on Kamino looked at Finn and went “oh I love him I’m keeping him and teaching him things.”)

(He’s just very lovable.)

Poe, meanwhile, buys the trust of Anakin Skywalker via R2D2 declaring BB-8 the absolute most baby of droids. R2D2 met BB-8 three hours ago but.

"Hey Obi-Wan this is Poe I met him like five days ago but R2D2 says he checks out because his droid is a baby." "That's nice, Anakin, did you know the Chancellor has a daughter who tried to assassinate him in broad daylight yesterday? Because guess who had to stop the Chancellor from getting assassinated by his daughter in broad daylight yesterday."

A summary so far:

Finn, on Kamino: Hey, um, I don't know where this is, but it's not where I was a few minutes ago. Do you think you could get me a comm? What's your name? Poe, on [dice roll] Denon: Oh, hey, you're General Skywalker? Nice to meet you, I'm so sorry about my droid, she's a little excitable and thought your R2 unit looked like a friend of hers-- Rey, on Coruscant: DIE, GRANDFATHER

Finn: [Peacefully vibing on Kamino, unaware of the chaos and bonding with the clones] Poe: [Trying to explain how he knows someone who tried to kill the chancellor and defend Rey] Rey: [Arrested for trying to kill the chancellor]

Just... just...

Anakin: Some guy ended up lost on base yesterday with his droid, how’s your day going? Obi-Wan: I had to stop someone who claims to be the chancellors daughter from murdering the chancellor after she seemingly blinked into existence in the Senate building. Poe: 😐

(Poe: Oh, so that's where Chaos^2 went.)

Poe: In her defense, she is his... well we don't know if she's his daughter or granddaughter, but she's definitely related to him, and she definitely grew up in a shitty situation that was his fault, so...

(Poe is trying very hard to explain this and not get arrested on the military base.)

As you’ve probably guessed, what's especially funny about all of this for me is the fact that Palpatine is fully aware that this girl shouldn't exist, but can't find a single piece of evidence about where she came from. He didn't start any experiments that could result in a female child, and he didn't have sex in that period of time, so where the hell--

Rey spends so much time in jail... BUT they do eventually assign her a Jedi Master. Possibly before she actually proves her evil grandfather is in fact evil. Most votes went to either Plo Koon or Obi-Wan. Plo, because he’s dad-shaped, and Obi...

"Obi-Wan, you already raised one feral desert child with implausible amounts of power, you handle this." Rey in return is very "Sweet, you vaguely remind me of Master Luke," and nobody knows who the hell she's talking about. Obi-Wan is NOT on board with this plan, she'd really be better off with Plo or like........ Mace.

Reunion Tour

What I need out of this is the eventual Finn and Rey reunion scene that is just excited screaming while someone in the background explains to Shaak Ti that yes this is apparently Palpatine's terrifyingly force-sensitive daughter who hates him.

(Finn senses Rey’s approach and just. Gathers the everyone to wait. He’s just :D REY MY FRIEND REY GUYS MY FRIEND REY IS COMING.)

Anakin shows up with Poe--just a guy who signed on to the military, no big deal--and then Poe and Rey are EXCITED and everyone's just like "Cool, how do you know this literal terrorist child?" And Poe has to scramble and "Uhhhhhhhhhhhh she saved my droid from a scrapheap once and BB-8 is basically my child so I owe her one."

Rey knows that Anakin ends up evil so she’s maybe not actively hostile but definitely very “I’m watching you.” That said, she vibes with him on a lot of things that he maybe doesn’t actively notice.

Rey picks up a snake, snaps off the head for venom avoidance, and starts biting off chunks. Obi-Wan's reaction: [undisguised horror] Anakin and Ahsoka: Ooh, where'd you find that? (Obi-Wan: And now I’m up to three feral children.)

What Does Palpatine Even Do?

OBVIOUSLY at a certain point, Palpatine is just phoning up every ally he has to figure out who broke protocol to synthesize a daughter for him.

So of course, Palpatine blame Plagueis.

She'd have been born five or so years before Naboo, just a few years younger than Anakin. It's such an EASY theory to build a conspiracy around. It is ENTIRELY WRONG, but it’s plausible! And anyone who might have been involved to say otherwise is probably dead!

A random bio-kid shows up you can’t possibly have contributed genes to? Maybe it’s the evil bio spark that did it.

Palpatine tries to placate her with the ‘my genes were stolen for an experiment and I didn’t know’ thing. It doesn’t work because her actual main complaint is he’s evil in her future but he tries.

It'd be a struggle to even get access to her, because of the aforementioned “maybe don’t try to talk to the daughter(?) that hates you” thing, but you know who Palpatine does have access to? The Chosen One.

Rey kind of decides on her favorites early on (she gravitates to Dad Energy and Sad Old Men so Plo and Obi-Wan are on her list, and that means decent time around Anakin and Ahsoka). It's really easy to talk Anakin into helping to some degree because "he'd like to connect to a daughter he never knew" and "a child of her power on a planet like that, you'd know her struggle, my dear boy" and so on. Anakin tries to connect! He tries to play up Sheev’s kind political work and how it can’t have really been his fault! It doesn’t work. Rey does not believe a word of it. Mostly she doesn’t even seem to hear him.

Rey's just like "...oh right, you're the melted mask that Kylo Ren was always ranting about," which means absolutely NOTHING to Anakin, but he mentions it to Palps, who loses his goddamn mind trying to figure out what she's talking about, because it also means absolutely nothing to him.

Here’s the thing: Rey’s already decided that Obi-Wan is cool, because Luke said so, and Plo Koon is dad-shaped, and she also gravitates towards earnest kindness in general, like she made friends with Finn real quick, so Ahsoka? Already getting along great.

She doesn’t dislike Anakin, really, he isn’t evil yet, he’s just... meh. She’s a little suspicious and she likes him less than the others but... Anakin.

Rey, to Anakin: You are my least favorite. Anakin, to Palpatine: YOUR DAUGHTER HATES ME???

And he goes from “she’s a lil standoffish” to “she doesn’t like me” to “she hates me” as is normal for Anakin.

It’s just an escalation of this one time Palpatine wants Anakin to not have rifts and trust issues with a person, at least not until later, because he needs information.

Meanwhile, that very moment, Rey is just like "huh, nobody here is listening to me about how make a sixth-hand carburetor work, where's Luke's dad?"

Anakin is venting to Palpatine about how hard it is to talk to Rey, and she's over in the Temple just like "Hey, that guy was useful last time, I should ask him," but also she only ever thinks of him as Luke's Dad.

(At one point, Obi-Wan is having a bit of a break down, and then Anakin starts having a breakdown about that, meanwhile the clones are (badly) trying to hide Finn behind their backs, Rey is watching Ahsoka practice and being like "I want two lightsabers," and Poe is trying to keep R2 from stealing BB-8 and Force Ghost Luke is just face palming in the background.)

(Rey deserved a saber staff, maybe one that can detach and turn into a jar’kai set. Possibly a pike. Mostly I just wish she got more chances to whack things with a big stick.)

[rogue-durin-16]

MY STUPID, STUPID HERO

Summary: when the fate of the world and the lives of his loved ones are at stake, Eddie Munson decides to stop running away. Thankfully, he's not alone.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader

Genre: fix-it fic (angst w/ happy ending)

Tags:

Eddie Munson: @kozumewhore here's my not so little fix-it fic

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: blood, depiction of wounds, language, violence, fire, st vol 2 spoilers

A/N: I love canon but I love rigging the plot in favor of Eddie's safety much more. I'm also working on a little Eddie x Chrissy fix-it bc a girl has to cope. Idk what else to write here, I'm just traumatized. Enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Eddie's deafeningly loud guitar did not muffle the violent stammering of my heart; if anything, it was the other way around.

It was a bad plan— a horrible plan made in a couple of hours by a bunch of shaken-to-the-core teens who were taking their last shot at defeating something they barely understood.

I shouldn't even be there; when those things happened, I was usually the one to cover up for the lot while they were missing, but something about this time was it different —darker.

I guess that's why they didn't oppose when I halfheartedly volunteered to be the ninth member.

It wasn't like I wanted to, either —I wasn't exactly a fighter—, but what was I supposed to do when my fourteen year old brother was about to enter the Upside Down and fight an otherworldly evil? Let him go by himself? Fuck no.

Plus, Eddie was going in, too.

Maybe it had happened over one of those chilly winter afternoons I had spent tutoring him because Dustin had begged me to do so. Or maybe it had been that time he had nonchalantly quoted an entire 'Lord Of The Rings' paragraph without batting an eyelash.

Eddie. In which exact point I had fallen for the endearing mess of a person Eddie Munson was, I didn't know.

Maybe, just maybe, that one time he had fallen asleep on my shoulder after pulling an all-nighter was to blame. Or the oddly specific compliments he threw at me across the cafeteria. Or the hug he had engulfed me in after we had found them at Reefer Rick's boathouse.

Maybe it had been all of the above, or maybe it was none; it didn't really matter. The point was that they were walking straight into their death, and I couldn't just sit still and watch.

So there I was, gripping the trailer's door with one hand, and the metallic mesh drilled to the vehicle in the other, holding both open as if my life depended on it —and it did—, feeling them juddering to Eddie's cover of 'Master Of Puppets'.

I didn't hear Dustin's T-minuses, but I did see the demobats in the horizon getting dangerously close. They were too close, and Dustin and Eddie were still on the fucking roof.

'Stick to the plan', Steve had ordered, but it was difficult when I believed the plan to be an absolute fuckup.

Just as I was about to cross the camper's threshold, a series of thundering hits from above made me come to a halt.

Thud. Please let it be them. Thud. Bang. Cling.

Boom.

Dustin's form dropped in front of me. Fast as lightning, I took a hold of his attire and, stepping aside, I impelled him into our barricade.

"C'MON C'MON C'MON!" An adrenaline ridden Eddie who had been shoving my younger brother, clutched the sleeve of my jacket, yanking it for me to enter with him as soon as the mesh was locked.

A high-pitched scream tore from my throat when two— three— five demobats viciously collided with our fence while my digits were still securing it, making me stumble backwards. Lucky me, Eddie was still behind me, so instead of tripping, I was briefly lifted from the floor, leather-covered arms quick to snake around my middle and pull me deeper into our safe haven.

"Holy SHIT! that was a close one." He breathed, shutting the trailer's front door and putting the latch on it, one of his hands never letting go of my jacket. "Y/n, did you hear that?!" Eddie exhaled a relieved laugh.

"Dude! Most. Metal. EVER!" Dustin jumped excitedly, staring at Eddie in adoration.

"Are you two mad?!" I chided them, giving the older boy a not so gentle shove, something that put a concerned frown on his face. "The hell took you so long?!"

"Uhhh Eddie's riff?!" Dustin puffed with an proud beam, drawing my attention to him.

"Eddie's r— you could've DIED!" I shrieked, smacking the back of his neck.

"Hey, we're safe and sound here!" The long-haired senior piped up with no hostility whatsoever, only raising his voice due to the demobats battering against the boarded up windows. "Don't take it out on the kid, I got carried away!"

"You can't get 'carried away'!" I rebuked him. I felt myself getting riled up, and I was almost certain that it had little to do with Eddie losing himself to his guitar solo and a lot to do with being pinned down by interdimensional monsters.

"Y/n! I get you're stressed but—"

"No!" I warned my younger brother with a menacing index finger. "You're the kid and he's the adult." I turned to Eddie, whose hands were already raised in surrender at my angry demeanor. "You call the shots, Eddie! You can't just..." his eyes flickered with something similar to... guilt, which made me instinctively tone down the reprimand. "I'm—"

THUMP!

Silence.

I shared a taken aback look with Eddie, argument forgotten in favor of listening closely to the sudden peace outside the Munson's house.

"Hey dipshits!" I jumped at Dustin's shout, throwing daggers at the boy. "You give up that easy, huh?!"

"SHHH!" I hushed him.

"Was that really necessary?" Eddie bitterly added, worry being read in his face.

"What's—" I pointed the spear at a small circle nearly above my head. "what's that?"

The peace was soon disturbed by claw-like steps over our heads.

"They're on the roof." Eddie announced in a low tone, cueing the three of us moved in sync back-to-back, shields slightly tilted in the ceiling's direction and spears ready for an imminent attack.

"A vent." Eddie response was accompanied by his forearm gently pushing me to walk back.

"They can't get through that," Dustin whispered from behind us. "can they?"

No sooner said than done.

I mentally gave myself a pat on the back for having such a quick reaction time; as soon as the coverage of the vent came off, my spear impaled a demobat.

Dustin's was just as good; between horrified screams and gibbered curses, we kept them at bay until Eddie situated himself between us and the aperture. I didn't have time to verbally question his actions, since, in the blink of an eye, his shield was being nailed into the ceiling by sheer force.

"Damn." I breathed out exhausted. My widened, impressed eyes found his. "Good call."

"Thanks." He probably didn't even notice the way his face briefly lit up at my words, but neither did I acknowledge the small smile dancing in my parted lips.

"Do you have more vents?" Dustin's ominous inquiry made Eddie's cheerful visage fall, his shoulders tensing up. His reaction was certainly a response— just... Not the one we hoped for.

"Fuck." He muttered, walking backwards with a sorry look on his face. "Fuckfuckfuckfuck." He repeated, stretching his arms out to me just as I threw him my shield and doing a 180 as soon as he had it secured on his hand.

"Climb up right now!" I ordered the youngest of us, vaguely gesturing at the tied sheets hanging between worlds before following Eddie's lead.

"But—"

"DUSTIN, CLIMB!"

Even though we raced to the room, we were clearly not fast enough; a heavy 'clonk' was heard on the other side of the door.

Knowing the risk was higher than the possibility of success, I tried to pull Eddie back, but the boy was quicker and more resolved than me.

The air got caught up in my throat at the nightmarish sight. If Pandora's box was real, it would look like that room.

"FALL BACK!" I tried once more, this time successfully since Eddie himself seemed to realize there was no use on trying to cover the vent instead of fleeing.

"To the gate!" He urged me, shutting the door and staggering back, shield high, facing the place where we were coming from until the very last second, in which we found ourselves having to follow Dustin into our world.

"C'MON, GUYS!" The freshman vociferated, seeing us right under the gate.

"You first." Eddie gestured at me to move closer to him, letting his weapons fall to the floor in order to help me up.

I gave my friend a fearful look while he got down on one knee, finders interlaced for me to plant my shoe on them. "You better hurry." I warned him, voice trembly from the adrenaline.

"I'm right behind you." He reassured me. With a grunt, he propelled me up far enough for me to go through the gate without much effort.

With a muffled thud, I was back in Hawkins —our Hawkins— lying on my back, eyes fixed on an upturned Eddie who... Had stopped climbing.

"The hell's he doing?" I mumbled at Dustin, who was kneeled down beside my head, focused on the exact same thing as me.

"I... I don't know." the younger kid rised to his feet. "Eddie, c'mon!" Our friend looked at some unknown point at his left. "What are you doing?!"

His left. Propping myself up with my palms, I let my head mirror Eddie's movement, searching for what was stopping him from joining us.

But I saw nothing, apart from... the room's door.

"Oh no." It was a soft, dreadful whisper, the one that accompanied my realization.

Dustin's yells for Eddie to climb couldn't quite reach my ears, as the only thing I could hear was that damn conversation Eddie and I had not even an hour earlier.

"Here." I stood on my tiptoes half way through the ladder, arm stretched at a crouched Dustin, who stood on the trailer's rooftop, passing him the buddle of leads for him to connect to the amplifiers. "Eddie said this one" I wiggled the red wire in one of my hands.

"Is for the big one, yeah." Dustin finished, taking a hold of them. "I'm not a child, Y/n, I know where to plug each lead." He explained in a brazen tone.

"You're a smartass, that's what you are." I retaliated, shoving his head back and consequently making him fall on his ass, which earned me a whine and a couple of insults.

"He's got an attitude." I commented, noticing as I climbed down Eddie's amused smile at the bottom of the ladder.

"Seems like it runs in the family." He teased, his grin growing wider at my vexed expression.

"Excuse you?"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." He laughed, letting go of the ladder's base once I had hopped off it.

"You better be." I exhorted him, wiping my hands on my pants with a quirked brow. " 'Cause I'm, y'know, armed," I pointed at the bowie hanging on the side of my belt. "so you wanna be nice to me."

"Oh, your benevolent majesty," he kneeled before me, taking my hands in his —something that, unbeknownst to him, made my skin tingle and heart skip a bit—, "spare my life, I beg you."

"Alright, your life's been spared." I chuckled, giving his hands a gentle tug. "On your feet, my brave hero." His face, carefree and jovial mere seconds before, dropped into a distant frown which he quickly attempted to hide. "What was that?"

"What was what?" He feigned confusion as he got up, a laugh that left his lips parted aiding his lie.

I tried not to lose eye contact while I crouched to grab the ends of the leads I had just handed to Dustin, but Eddie could be very elusive when it came down to these topics, so his eyes were averted as soon as he had the chance to look away.

I furrowed my brows, backtracking to my latter sentence in order to decipher what had bothered him. "Is it because of what Steve said?" He shrugged, ambling around, gaze casted down. "He said that because—"

"He doesn't want us to take any risks, I know." Eddie finished my sentence, toying with the pick around his neck. "I just—" he sighed, throwing hus head back. "I dunno, it be nice to be a hero at some point, I guess." He cleared his throat, muttering the next words for me not to get them. "Or at least not a coward."

"Eddie, c'mon." He gifted me a forced smile and, taking the leads from my hands, entered the trailer.

"EDDIE!!" Dustin's broken scream brought me back to reality.

"I'm buying more time." He resolved with a nod.

Time seemed to mock us during the following few seconds, elongating them and therefore making the course of action much more frustrating.

My body had shot up, hands clawing the knotted sheets in order to start climbing, just for my back to hit the mattress a second after, when the metalhead's spear slashed the fabric with a scream. Mouthing a 'sorry' to us, he took back his shield and disappeared from our line of vision.

"WE HAVE TO GO BACK— W-WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!" Dustin's pitch was desperate while he ran around the trailer, searching in vain for something that might help us save Eddie.

My buzzing mind was working just as hard as my younger brother's. Lucky me, I found a solution sitting right in front of my eyes.

My body was most likely in autopilot while I got up to put the remainders of gasoline Steve and Robin had left unused in a single container before throwing it up the gate.

"What are you doing." Dustin halted, coming to me while I dragged a chair to stand below the gate, the part of the makeshift rope that remained in our reality in my hand.

"Rolling the dice." I stated, sparing the teary eyed boy a resigned glance whilst climbing onto the chair, tossing the clothing as an aid to go back without breaking a bone. "Wait here."

"Y/N NO— WAIT!"

THUD!

It took me a hot second of groaning to rise up and get to work; a hot second in which Dustin decided to follow me into a certain death. I should have seen that coming.

"DUSTIN!" I helped my brother up, momentarily forgetting we were in a rush after hearing him wince.

"I'm okay." He lied, eyes shut in pain. "What's the plan?"

I opened my mouth, about to scold him and assure him there was no plan, about to beg him not to get involved, but we knew each other too well for him not to know what I was about to say.

"If you tell me to stay back, I'll flip out."

"I..." I cursed myself, fighting the urge to curl up in a ball and cry because how was I supposed to attempt this with my brother nearby? With a sigh, I took a step back, grabbing the gasoline from the floor. "Count to ten. Then go get Eddie and hide."

"Where are you going?!"

"To the roof!" I trotted to the entrance, only looking back once my hand was gripping the knob. "Hey, smartass! I love you, okay?"

It took him a silent instant to connect the dots, and, even though he didn't comment on it, I knew he knew, and that pained me so much.

"Y/n—"

"Go get him!" I cut him off, sprinting out, down the stairs and to the ladder.

Once I got to the top of the trailer, I spotted the demobats flying in circles around something, as well as Dustin limping towards that same place, which made me feel sick to my stomach.

Get down to business for fuck's sake, I thought, uncoiling the fuel container.

Pricking up the ears, I caught faint screams that simultaneously made my blood boil and my heart sink, wondering if it might be too late.

No, don't think that.

"Please, let this be worth it," I muttered, my shaky hands pouring the fuel leftovers all over the vines slithering on the rooftop. "Let this be fucking worth it."

After tossing the empty tin away, I dug on my back pocket for the lighter Eddie had gifted me on Christmas.

"I know you don't smoke much," He began, folding his arms over his chest, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "but, uhh, you said you really liked the design and— well, I got more lighters so you can keep that one."

Breathe in. Light it. Breathe out.

Throw it.

As soon as the vines caught fire like dry straw, an ear-piercing screech echoed on the upside down; just as expected, the dark cloud of bats found me much more interesting.

The momentary happiness from my success was rapidly eclipsed by a terrifying truth; the price of that little stunt was going to be my life.

EDDIE'S P. O. V.

I was going to die.

I was going to die a slow, gruesome death, and I would be alone.

You're so stupid, you're so so so stupid.

It kind of sounded like Y/n's voice, like something she would tell me —and Jesus H Christ, I wanted her to tell me I was stupid. I wanted her to scold me and to stop talking to me for a couple of days because I gave her a heart attack, do I ever think, like, at all? And I wanted Dustin to sneak me into their home on the third day to apologize, to tell her that I was, in fact, stupid, that I didn't think ever, that she was always right, and that I loved her.

But that wouldn't happen because I was going to die. At least that's what I thought, until something surreal happened.

The bats that had been restlessly whirling around me, holding me down, suffocating me, digging into my skin with their teeth and claws, shrieked and contorted for a moment before flying away, allowing me to retract my limbs and roll to the side with a gasp.

"EDDIE!!!" Was I hallucinating? Because that was Dustin Henderson's voice yelling my name... While he trotted in my direction. "Eddie!"

Oh, no. It really was him.

"Holy shit..." His voice was shaky when he kneeled by my side, hands moving my vest and leather jacket out of the way to check the bites and gashes —and goddamnit did that hurt. "Can you breathe?" I nodded at the boy, biting the inside of my cheek to prevent the tears from spilling.

He came back for me? Y/n would murder me.

Y/n.

I tried to prop myself up, but the affliction didn't let me do much before wanting to curl up and cry. "W—where's your sister?" I asked in a soar whimper, my heart sinking at Dustin's distressed expression. "Henderson."

His lower lip quivered as he took a quick peek over his shoulder. With a tilt of my head, I too could see the flock of bats fiercely winging its way to my trailer which was... On fire? And—

"Y/n." I choked out, seeing the girl's figure running on the rooftop. My terrified eyes shifted back to Dustin and found him trying to hold back a sob.

This couldn't be happening.

When I saw the monsters start to revolve around Y/n, I used all my willpower to sit up and bring Dustin to my chest, wrapping my arms around him while guilt weighed on my stomach, heavy enough to make me want to throw up.

The sound of a bat slamming atop the trailer made us flinch. Then another one, and another one, and then it felt like it was hailing rocks.

I loosened my arms around the kid for him to witness a miracle if I had ever seen one; the bats were sprawled all around the trailer, and either Y/n was running towards us or I was delusional.

"DUSTIN! Fuck..." Y/n threw herself to the ground, breathless, much like her younger sibling had done. She scrambled to situate herself behind me, gently moving me to lean on her chest. "Help me take of his jacket!"

"W-What happened?" The boy asked, speechless yet compliant at his sister's words.

"They— they just dropped dead." She explained, her fingertips stripping me from my vest with some struggle and a few grunts from me. "Lift his shirt."

"It's... It looks like Steve's."

"Shit— Alright, swap places with me." The boy limited himself to take on the spot of his sister while I did my best to stay upright.

"You're... Not gonna stab me, are you?" I didn't quite know if I meant it as a joke or not, since she was pulling out her machete.

Ignoring my question, Y/n discarded her jacket, tossing it aside; her knitted sweater followed lead, and, to our surprise, she proceeded to remove her shirt, which left her in her bra.

"Woah."

"What the—"

"Shut up, both of you." Y/n demanded, her welled irises flickered at me, using the blade to tear the tee's fabric to create several bandages. "Hold this."

With Y/n's skillful hands, Dustin's help and a series of hisses falling from my lips every time pressure was put on my wounds, I was patched up in no time.

"Okay," Y/n threw her sweater and jacket back on and circled my body, kneeling right besides me. "let's go—" without warning, she tried to pull me up, only to fall back down with Dustin's taken aback yells and a distressed gasp that accompanied my body stiffening.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Dustin scolded her. "You think we can carry him?!"

"You got a better idea?" Though Y/n's question appeared to be rhetorical, Dustin's expression shifted as he pondered our options.

"Guys, leave me here."

"Shut up!" The both of them shouted back in unison.

"Okay I think I got it." The youngest Henderson whispered to himself before getting up with difficulty. "I'll be right back." He declared, tossing my vest and jacket in Y/n's direction.

"Wait!" The girl reached for her weapon and handed it to the freshman, who gave her a puzzled frown. "There's a literal pile of demobats."

"They're dead, genius." He reasoned in a condescending tone.

"We don't know that." She countered as if she was talking to the dumbest person in the world. "Just take it and shut up." With a huff, Dustin obeyed and took off as fast as he could towards the trailer park. "You're a fucking idiot, you know that?" She grumbled, accommodating my upper body against her chest as carefully as possible.

"Me?" I pointed my index finger at myself, tilting my chin up to meet her gaze while she reached for my jacket to throw it on top of me. "Weren't you the one commiting arson on my rooftop?"

"And whose fault is that?" The light banter I was attempting in order to cheer her up banished, leaving room for yet more guilt. "I didn't mean it like that." She explained, regret staining her face. "It's not on you, I'm sorry." Her forearms wrapped tenderly around my shoulders before she leaned forward to bury her face on the crook of my neck. "You're right, I was the stupid one this time." She mumbled, shattering my heart a little when I felt a tear fall on my uncovered skin.

"You saved my life." I pointed out, my ring clad hands traveling up to give her forearms a reassuring squeeze. "My hero." Looking to the side, I was able to meet her watery gaze, as she lifted her face from the safety of my shoulder. "My stupid, stuuupid hero." I added with a toothy grin, which only grew brighter when a soft, bittersweet laugh escaped Y/n's lips.

"Look who's talking." She quipped. "Mister 'I'm buying more time'." She parroted my words, making a bad impression of me. "Fucking Idiot."

"You love this idiot." I teased, making her look away, a reddish hue staining her cheeks. "And this idiot loves you." I finished in a tone serious enough for the embarrassment to leave her face and be substituted by a content gleam. "He really does."

"Even if I lost his lighter?" She sheepishly questioned, motioning at the still burning rooftop with a tilt of her head. She clearly felt repentant about it, but I could only beam at her in surprise.

"You had the lighter on you?"

"Duh! I loved that lighter." She noted, her eyes staring straight into my soul with such fondness that it alleviated the splitting pain of my wounds. "You were very brave, by the way, but don't that ever again."

"I can't promise anything." I joked, making her sigh exasperated, her forehead falling onto my shoulder, one of her hands slipping down to squeeze my bicep.

"This should do!" Dustin spoke, breathing heavily while rushing in our direction, driving a wide wheelbarrow full of bedsheets and cushions. "We'll move you here and then push. And I was thinking" He began, stopping by me to help Y/n get me up. "trying to get you through the gate's gonna be hell, so," He paused, using all his strength to move me; I didn't my best to help, taking laboured breaths to mitigate the pain I was under. "we can carry him to the place where Fred died."

"That's" Y/n huffed, relocating my weight against her to walk me to the makeshift stretcher. "actually very smart."

"Don't sound so surprised, the kid's a genius." I spoke, letting myself fall into the fluffy vehicle with a grunt. "Hey Dustin? I love you, man."

"I... love you too Eddie." The siblings shared a bemused smile. "What's gotten into him?"

"He's in a sappy mood." Y/n whispered in a teasing tone, giving my shoulder a pat. "Might be the loss of blood." She added, taking on the task of pushing the wheelbarrow. "How's your ankle?"

"It's alright."

"You know? This butthead" Y/n leaned forward for me to see her point at Dustin. "threw himself through the fucking gate."

"You did the exact same!"

"Uh no? I didn't fuck up my foot."

"It's not my foot, Miss smarty pants."

My attention jumped from one siblings to the other, finding their bickering as entertaining as any other day. No one would have guessed we had just gone through a near death experience.

Hearing them laugh and periodically check on me, making sure I was doing alright, had me thinking about how smart I had been taking Dustin under my wing, and how lucky I was to have entered Y/n's heart.

God, I really loved them.

[bastillewolf]

Shinigami Eyes (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: After you distastefully kill Corpse in a game of Among Us, he wants you to make it up to him and invites you to come over for the week.

Notes: Thank you so much for the love on the previous chapter, I’ve never gotten this many notes before. I hope you enjoy, and maybe leave an ask if you want to? I can’t promise I have time to do them, but I’ll pick out a couple.

Also, I might rewrite this. I kinda rushed it because I wanted to finish it by tonight, but there will be a final and third chapter to this afterwards. Please do let me know what you think.

Tag list CLOSED!

Shinigami Eyes - Pt. II

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

You were teamed up with Sean.

Your fist violently slammed down on the desk. “Goddammit! I don’t want to be impostor anymore! This game has no compassion for my poor nerves.” It was the third time in a row now, and you were really craving to do normal tasks now without all the scheming. “Fuck it, I don’t care if they kill me. I’m just gonna do my thing without thinking about it.”

You decide to follow Toast for a bit to watch him do some task. You kill him in Laboratory. You vent back to Launchpad and take your time walking towards MedBay while the kill button restores. You meet up with Corpse, and follow him while pretending to do wires in the Y-hallway. You watched the green bar go up, and continued. Sabotaging and then fixing lights, you made sure your place with Corpse was settled. Then the body of Lily was reported.

As you expected, Corpse easily vouched for you as he’d seen you do a task. The round was skipped, though Rae was sussed for ‘chasing’ Sean, by his own words.

“Corpse, you’ve grown weak,” you muttered to chat.

You were in Greenhouse, and decided it would be best to kill him there and sabotage Reactor. “Sorry baby, but I can’t keep following you around.” You quickly set off Reactor and murdered him in front of the plants. “Your blood shall keep the plants hydrated.” You did an evil laugh. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works, though.”

You vented down to MedBay and as you walked out you met up with Rae. She’d be the vouch who would confirm you weren’t anywhere near Greenhouse. “I’ll just have to fix my own sabotage so they’ll never suspect me.” You helped her with the handprint, and noted Sykkuno and Felix being there. Sean sabotaged lights, you killed Sykkuno, and ran out to follow Lily into Laboratory. Felix reported the body.

“Holy shit,” Rae gasped. So far, five people had died. You only needed to kill one more person. “It was Felix!”

“Wait, what?” the man in question asked. “I was fixing Reactor!”

She mentioned that only you, Sykkuno, Felix and herself had been there and that you’d helped her do handprint. “Sykkuno must have fixed it, and then you killed him!”

Sean asked if you’d seen anything.

“No, the lights were out. I followed Rae into Laboratory after the scan.” Your voice didn’t tremble or raise, a tactic you’d taken up from the best lair in the group. Well, the one who was now dead. Oops. “I haven’t seen Felix this entire game, though.”

He was evidently at a loss for words, so the group was quick to vote for him.

Pewds was ejected.

Victory.

You thanked Sean for a good game who was laughing his ass off. “I can’t believe you did Corpse like that! Poor guy!”

“I deadass thought you were innocent,” Corpse replied, “I’m hurt.”

“Why do you still sound dark and menacing when you say something like that?!”

You agreed with Sean heartily, “He’s just salty I’ve bested him at his own game.”

“Hey now, no need to actually insult me.”

The group laughed. You decided to call it for the night, right before Corpse did the same.”

 ***

He was calling you again. “What is it this time, you salty?”

“Salty? Nah, never,” he said, but you weren’t convinced.

“Then why you calling?”

“What, I can’t call my friends after playing a nice round of Among Us?”

“Not when you lost the game and you call the person who you lost to. Kinda sus, dude.”

“Alright, maybe a little salty.” You smirked.

“Aw, you need me to make it up to you?”

He laughed. “What did you have in mind?”

A bunch of thoughts, most not rated PG-13, crossed your mind. You were suddenly starting to feel uncomfortable. This was probably just something innocent, which got twisted in your fucked-up mind. You shrugged, “Uh… I don’t know.”

“I got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Come over this week. You said you needed a break, right?”

“That sounds more like you’re doing me a favour instead of me making it up to you.”

“I don’t have any friends. You’d be making it up to me by being the first physical person here in years. I usually don’t invite people over.”

“Wow, I’m flattered. So, you don’t consider me to be your friend after all?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he chuckled.

“Sure, sure. Tell me that again when my presence suddenly brightens your life making you not want to get rid of me, ever.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

 ***

You walk through the gates following a hoard of people, all the while still feeling drowsy from not getting any sleep during your flight. At least you didn’t have any turbulence and landed safely. Glancing around here and there with no result, you figured Corpse would be waiting outside, until you spotted a figure clad in black a little ends away by the escalator. You were glad you were still awake enough to have found him, because he appeared to silently linger halfway behind a fern.

At least, you hoped it was him. The only indications were his clothes, mask and dark hair. You saw him run a hand through it, and identified the chipped black nail polish and familiar rings. Oh yea, that was him alright.

He seemed to be paying more attention to the floor until he saw two feet appear in his line of sight. “Hey,” you awkwardly greeted. A bit taken a back, he replied, “Oh, wow. Hey.” A mask was covering the bottom of his face, but as far as you could see his eyes were a very dark shade.

“Wow?” you repeated. He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yea, sorry. It’s a compliment.” You held your elbow out in a safe-distance gestured hello, but he shrugged you off. “You’re gonna be staying with me anyways.” Suddenly in a daze, you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and instantly hugged him back. His baggy sweater felt warm and soft to the touch, and strands of hair tickled your face. You very much tried to repress your smile and blush, but how could you? Hugging someone wasn’t supposed to feel this good. When he pulled back he reached down to take your suitcase from you. “I don’t own a car, is it okay if we take a cab?”

“Y-Yeah, of course,” you stuttered, “But it’s on me. Same with food and stuff.” “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled. “No, you’re letting me stay with you and a hotel would’ve been a lot more expensive than this. It’s my treat.” “Yeah, we’ll see.” He gave you a look and even with the mask you could tell he was smirking underneath it.

It’s about half an hour drive to his apartment complex, and it’s rather nice. “All that YouTube money paying off, huh?” you asked in amusement. “You’d know,” he replied. You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the stairs yourself, which he silently shook his head at, until after a few flights he noticed you struggling and settled on carrying the thing in between the two of you. “How many clothes did you bring?” “Oh, it’s mostly filled with bricks I might need to throw at your head.” He laughed at that.

His apartment was simple, but cosy. “Home sweet home,” he said, almost sarcastically. You furrowed your brow at him. “I’m sure you could’ve had it a lot worse.” He reluctantly agreed.

He helped you set down your luggage in what appeared to be his bedroom, where the curtains were still closed and the black bedsheets fresh. He had a few pieces of fanart up on his wall, and some on his closet. You turned to him and gave him a look. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

He quickly shook his head, “You’re not sleeping there. If you won’t let me sleep on the couch I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“If you’re sleeping on the floor, I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he murmured. “What?” “Nothing.”

He suggested playing video games as you were both too tired to do anything else. You’d landed quite late yet were still confused about what time it actually was. Flying is weird. You hopped onto his couch and grabbed a controller.

He sat down next to you, but suddenly seemed tenser than before.

“You okay? You can just go to sleep if you want to.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I don’t sleep a lot. It’s fine.”

You didn’t stop looking at him, though. He was still wearing that mask. “You don’t have to take it off, if you don’t want to. I understand if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that, I just…” He took a deep breath. You hadn’t expected him to take it off then and there. You stared at him, your mouth slightly agape, controller barely held by your numb hands.

“Disappointed?”

It was as if he was expecting you to make a face or something, but you didn’t give him anything, except for a blatant “Nope” and an “Are we gonna play now or what?”

“You don’t have anything else to say?”

You shrugged, and looked him up and down again. “You’re kind of what I imagined you to be.”

“What’s that?”

“Handsome.”

Neither of you could stop smiling for the rest of the night.

You eventually forced him to sleep in his own bed, even going as far as to shove him into the room and keep your weight against the door so he couldn’t get out, so he eventually relented. “Inviting you here was a mistake.” “How come? All I’ve done so far is look after you!” “You’re a nightmare.”

You mostly stayed in for the week, which you didn’t mind at all. Being in such a closed-off environment with someone you got along with was nice. He attempted to get you to lift the weights in his room and succeeded for around fifteen minutes until you nearly dropped a dumbbell on your foot. You ordered take-out from his favourite restaurant, watched horror movies until you adapted to his sleeping schedule because you were too scared to close your eyes now, and even streamed a bit together with your friends.

“Wait, is Corpse with you?” Rae had asked.

“No, I’m at Corpse’s. He’s sitting across from me so I can’t see his screen but we’re gonna have to share the Discord unless you want to hear an echo.”

“Ah, man! You got to see his face, too?” Sykkuno whined.

“Stop simping, Sykkuno. You get enough attention from him already.”

“Don’t worry, I still love you,” Corpse said.

“Huh?”

It was probably a good thing that you got teamed up again, because you could indeed start to see his hands shaking right as the word ‘impostor’ appeared on the screen. You reached over and stroked it with your thumb. He smiled gratefully back at you.

“Just please,” he pleaded later that day, “Sleep in the bed. If only for one night.”

“No. I’ve heard about and now seen your sleeping habits. If you take the couch you’re never going to get any sleep.” You made a real effort to show him how comfortable you were – even though your back had started to hurt already after the first night – by crawling underneath your blanket and rubbing your head into the soft pillow. He snorted.

Next thing, you feel yourself being lifted by an arm underneath your knees and one around your back. “Corpse! Put me the fuck down!” you shrieked. You knew he lifted weights, but how the hell did he still have the energy as an insomniac? He ungracefully dropped you onto the matrass and turned the lights off. “Good night.”

You quickly got hold of the back of his hoodie before he could leave and pulled. He fell down next to you with a low huff. “Fine, I’ll sleep in the bed. But only if you sleep here too.”

“I snore.”

“Don’t care.”

For some reason, there wasn’t any tension or awkwardness. You were comfortable, and the soft rhythm of his breathing seemed to soothe you. He called out your name, to see if you were still awake.

“Hm?”

“…Thanks for coming over.”

“Any time.”

This was how you would spend the rest of the nights, and whenever either of you woke up suddenly curled up around the other, you didn’t mention it or move away from it. It was the first time in years Corpse got a few nights of complete rest.

[shurisneakers]

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically.  “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up. 

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.”  He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

[zee-has-commitment-issues]

Royalteen unhinged thoughts: 

Hey y’all. The group chat watched Royalteen today because apparently we hate ourselves.

Gonna put my ask box here for unhinged hours because I need them after this.

So I watched "straight young royals" and it was bad. Here are the thoughts that came to mind: 

They did not just call him prince fuckboy. 

Why does this mom hate her school so much? She’s never even been there? Why send your child to a school that you hate? 

I don’t like his face. 

Why is he sitting next to her? 

Oh I hate this 

This is so awkward 

My blood is curdling with second hand embarrassment

Is that her brother or her child? I feel like they want me to think it’s her brother and then it’s gonna be her child. (Zee was right, though they didn't know it yet)

Does she have ptsd? 

She really thought running alone in the middle of the woods was a good idea? 

She could have grabbed that stroller, and she didn’t 

Ok it is her brother 

Of course he’s just going to come Prince Charming her way out of this 

Why did they take a picture? 

They have zero chemistry 

Oh he posted the picture and now everyone wants to be her best friend 

Can't tell if I love Tess or hate her 

Genuinely hate whoever the fuck this princess is 

WHY IS HE IN HER HOUSE?! 

Her parents need to shut up omg 

Ok but why does he like her? Why does she like him? There has been no establishment. Why do they want to be around each other? 

She’s drinking, so something is going to go wrong, probably 

IS THAT A WEINER IN A TORTILLA?! 

They’re really pushing the Tess vs whoever the fuck the princess is, so I know the Princess is going to be evil 

She is double fisting alcohol

She is triple fisting alcohol.

My entire computer had a stroke because it also hates that we’re watching this 

So they’re drunk and close, and this is not going well 

Oh so we’re just gonna add some drugs too 

NO OMG NO

of course they got caught 

She. Is. Still. Drinking. And. Smoking. 

Stop omg stop 

What is happening? 

Is she just going to jump in? Fully clothed? What is going on? WHAT IS GOING ON? 

I cannot watch this 

I cannot watch any of this 

What the FUCK 

do not watch this movie if you have the throw up thing 

Of course she went viral 

“Attacked by a prince” BITCH HE LITERALLY SAVE YOUR LIFE FUCK OFF 

Again…. Why do they like each other????? 

They both have more chemistry with that baby than they do with each other 

If I were her, I would stop showing my face places like baby please take a hint. She is the person who suffers from “main character syndrome” and I know she technically is the main character but like… 

Ok points for cool cinematic shots 

This was the worst way to do insta-love 

Honey they are not laughing with you. They are laughing at you. 

WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE DOING 

it’s not gonna be him Omg 

“Plans changed” FUCK YOU KALLE 

there’s too much silence. Way too much silence. 

Did they just serve a singular scallop? 

This is so uncomfy 

I’m on the princesses side 

She really just went “next time we hang out we’re fucking ok?” LIKE MISS GIRL SLOW DOWN 

OMG WAIT SHES (Lena) THE AUGUST?! 

Miss girl, just get in the car if you’re going to keep hiding. 

This is a completely valid reaction 

I’m still on the princess’ side 

YOU HAVE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR FIVE MINUTES 

HES SCARED TO HAVE SEX BECAUSE HES SCARED TO GET PEOPLE PREGANANT? 

Ok they’re trying to make it sound bad, but those are all valid reasons to not like Tess. 

That blonde girl who constantly looks annoyed has been me this entire movie 

Is he gonna fall asleep mid blow job?

HE SAID NO 

STILL DONT KNOW WHY THEY LIKE EACH OTHER. 

over an hour in and I have no idea what the plot is 

Bestie leaving is going to make it more suspicious 

NOT HER VICTIM BLAMING 

LOVE?! 

I am STILL on the princess’ side 

IT IS HER SON. CALLED IT. 

Lena is quite possibly the worst person to have ever existed 

Fuck her. Fuck Lena. 

Ew ew ew ew ew ew ew

I have no sympathy for her. 

A blood clot in her heart would have killed her literally what? 

If he shows up at her door in the last five minutes, I’ll lose my goddamn mind 

Oh, ok thank fuck it’s Tess 

This guy who has been trying to actually be her friend this whole time is my favorite. Don’t know his name but I love him. 

NOT A SINGING TROPE IN THE LAST FIVE MINUTES 

No, this is horrid 

He can’t sing

No one would actually care about them being together 

What is happening? 

They had the princess faint for no reason other than to open for a sequel 

quite possibly the worst movie I’ve ever seen. 

This was 2 and a half hours of pain. 

Overall, this movie was just bad. The writing is awful. There is no plot. They tried to stuff in every plot twist imaginable in the last five minutes and gave no time to resolve any of them. The entire thing is very much "tell don't show" when it should be the other way around. They even have the prince tell you why he likes Lena. The villain is more likable than the main character. The main character is quite possibly the worst person to have ever existed. They never have her face any consequences for her actions. She has one temper tantrum and then it's over. They added a big "cliffhanger" at the end to open for a sequel and it just should never happen. There should never be a sequel.

Just... no.