#ticklish eleven

[blushyeleven]

I’m making this post just for something to post before I post my Lumax fic tmrw!! <3 (if you all are getting tired of Elmax content please lmk or request😭)

@theprofessorandlisbon here’s more Elmax content since you liked my last fic🫶

𝗘𝗹𝗺𝗮𝘅 𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗹𝗲 𝗵𝗰𝘀!

-I see max being more of the ler and el being more of the Lee but that can sometimes vary!

-max often tickles el to cheer her up but using soft tickles, max only uses rough tickles when she deserves it

-eleven usually asks for tickles. Most of the time it’s just for fun

-max never asks for tickles because she often gets embarrassed at the state she gets when being tickled. She only allows el to see this side to her

-Max will sometimes swirl her fingers around in els palm causing a relaxing tickly feeling that Eleven melts into

-max uses all kinds of teases knowing eleven is WEAK to them

-eleven is usually the one to start the tickle fights with a few pokes to maxs stomach or sides or max would just be bored and start poking eleven either way ur escalated into full blown tickle fights

-on a rare occasion el with softly tickle max when she’s had a terrible day and max will just lay there giggling at the touch

-they will both pick up on when is an isn’t an appropriate time for tickles

-although they tickle eschother often, they never get tired of it

-max definitely pins el

-eleven doesn’t really understand how to pin

-max gives the best aftercare towards eleven. She’ll play with her hair or again just lightly stroke her fingers down her palm or arm

-el just snuggles into max after tickling her, listening to her residual giggles

-depending on how nice max is feeling she will either target her week spot (her stomach) or save it until last

-eleven doesn’t really focus on max’s death spot (her feet) when it comes to tickle fights because it’s hard to get to. She fears every time max will kick her off the bed. Max does desperately try and stop herself from it. if el does go for her death spot then their in either a really big tickle fight or el is getting revenge

[rosileeduckie]

🩷 "Still holding on, Hobie? You know you can just admit you're having fun."

🩶 "F-fuck off. You wish you were as strong as I am taking this."

~*~

Spiderman is having fun. @hexalianrebel-blackfeathers Panda I hope this Hobie is everything you wanted 😁 Gotta keep all of ATSV tickle Tumblr fed 💕 Love yas

[cringemesstickles]

Friends Don’t Lie

(TickleTober Day 9: Lie)

Summary: Will lies about being ticklish. His siblings decide a punishment is in order

Pairings: None

Word Count: 759

A/N: I knew I had to do something stranger things related when I saw this prompt and there’s not enough fics of them, so here we are. Enjoy the wholesome family bonding :’)

———————————————————

The Byers’ living room was warm and cozy, a stark contrast to the chilly fall weather. Will, Jonathan, and Eleven were sprawled out on the carpet, a board game spread out before them.

The Byers had recently taken Eleven in as their adopted sister and she was already starting to feel at home.

Ready to make her next move, she reached across the board to grab her game piece, accidentally brushing against Will’s wrist in the process.

Her head perked up when she heard a giggle, the youngest Byers jolting and quickly pulling his hand back.

Now, Eleven wasn’t a stranger to tickling. She had gotten into tickle fights many of times, mostly with Mike. She always had a feeling Will was ticklish, but now she was certain.

Suddenly disinterested in the game, she focused all her attention on her brother, eyes glittered with curiosity.

“Will, are you ticklish?”

Will’s cheeks turned a shade redder and his eyes widened, taken aback by the playful question.

“No, I’m not! You just scared me, that’s all…” he said hastily, avoiding eye contact.

Jonathan looked up from the game, raising an eyebrow.

“Since when are you not ticklish?”

Will’s eyes darted towards his older brother, heart racing with suspense.

“Since… forever?”

He tried to sound casual, though his voice betrayed a hint of nervousness.

Jonathan smirked, sensing the opportunity for some fun.

“Oh really? Because I remember when I used to chase you around the house and tickle you until you couldn’t breathe.”

Eleven’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Friends don’t lie, Will.”

Will groaned, burying his face in a cushion. “Oh no.”

Seeing the gleam in El’s eyes, Jonathan grinned.

“You know, El, I think Will could use a little reminder of the rules around here.”

Eleven nodded, trying to hold back her giggles.

Suddenly, the two pounced, fingers wiggling wherever they could reach.

“Ah! No, w-wahahait!” Will yelped, trying to wriggle away. But it was two against one, and he didn’t stand a chance.

Jonathan managed to pin one of Will’s arms down while Eleven attacked his sides, making him burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“G-Guys, I cahahahan’t!” he squealed, kicking his legs out and futility tugging at his arm.

“Admit it,” The girl said, trying to speak through her own laughter. “You’re ticklish!”

Will’s face was bright red, eyes sparkling with mirth as he squirmed hopelessly under his siblings, embarrassed but enjoying the bonding moment nonetheless.

Jonathan’s heart also warmed at the sight, taking in the pure innocence and silliness that the three of them were engaged in. Life had been dark and scary the past few years and it was nice to take part in something ridiculous for a change.

Besides, it had been too long since he’d tickled his little brother, and if he could lend El some useful tickling tips, that was even better.

Getting that very idea, he gave a devious smirk and glanced at their adopted sister.

“Hey, El, try his stomach.”

Will’s giggling increased at the anticipation, his slightly watery eyes widening with dreadful excitement.

“Nonononono, don’t l-listen to hihihim!”

The brown haired girl pretended to ponder, though she had no intention on giving mercy.

“Jonathan, didn’t lie to me, Will.” Raising her hands, she wiggled them just above Will’s tummy, a trick she’d learned from Mike.

The youngest Byers grew more frantic in his squirming, eyes locked onto the wiggling digits.

“EEK- I’m sorry, I’m sohOHORRY!!” He threw his head back with a shriek when El’s surprisingly vigorous fingers made contact with his stomach, wriggling and scratching the soft skin.

Jonathan laughed at his brother’s reaction, all too familiar with which spot got which response.

“Ah, the classic Will Byers shriek… never gets old.” He teased, watching the younger boy’s face turn even redder from embarrassment.

After awhile, the two finally relented and let their brother go.

“Have fun, Will?” Jonathan asked with a smirk, arms crossed as he watched the boy catch his breath.

Will laid there panting dramatically, cheeks still flushed from the laughter.

“No... You guys are mehehean..”

Eleven narrowed her eyes, unconvinced by the statement. “Friends don’t lie, Will…” she glared playfully, raising her hands to threateningly wiggle her fingers once again.

Will giggled more and squirmed away, wrapping his arms defensively around himself.

“Eep- Okay, Okahahay, it was r-really fuhuhun!”

The girl lowered her hands triumphantly and smiled, clearly pleased with herself.

And so, the trio continued to strengthen their bond as siblings; whether it be by board games, banter, or even a good old fashioned tickle attack.

[nhasablogg]

Tickletober Day 22 - Monster

Fandom: Stranger Things

Characters: Max/Eleven

A/N: So this ended abruptly and I didn’t have the time to do what I wanted with it due to some emergency stuff coming up this afternoon. With 30 minutes to spare I’m posting it and hoping it’s good enough anyway. I’d love to revisit this, or something like this, in the future.

Words: 938

[Tickletober prompts]

Max only agreed to go to this stupid Halloween party because El was so excited about it. She’d been talking about it for weeks, about how it would be her first big party with other people in school and not just their regular group, as much as she loved them all. Max, who’d seen the way the school had slowly warmed up to El (to all of them, really), didn’t trust the kids enough to feel as if this was a good idea, but she’d rather go with her than let Eleven go alone.

So here they were, Frankenstein and his monster. El was the doctor because Max knew the connotations she had with being perceived as a monster. She found it unnecessary to risk it.

“No drinking,” Steve told them again as he dropped them all off. “I’m serious.”

Dustin waved a hand at him. “Yeah, yeah. You absolutely didn’t drink at 15.”

“If I hear a single word about the bunch of you even being close to alcohol-”

“-you’ll skin us alive,” Mike said, helping Will out of the car. “Got it.”

He sped off and the group entered the party as if this was something they just did. They’d done it more often recently, the new school year bringing them more confidence, but Max still felt out of place around the moving bodies and booming music and cups of liquor.

They lost the boys quickly, maybe too quickly, with Lucas shooting them an apologetic grin before following the others, and Max was left standing with a giddy El who only ever wanted to be liked. Max couldn’t deny her attempt at being a part of something, so she grabbed her elbow and pulled her into the kitchen, finding you always seemed more relaxed with a drink in your hand.

“Here,” she said, pressing a coke into El’s grip. “Let’s walk around.”

This wasn’t the tamest party, but Max was certain it wasn’t even close to the wild ones she knew the older kids would attend. Although it was still early she felt herself relax a bit. People were actually in costumes too, and not just half-hearted attempts with bunny ears or a mask, but mostly the whole deal. El was looking at everyone, but Max tried to keep her gaze on the floor, the walls, the cups in people’s hands.

“Let’s go over there,” she said, grabbing El again to pull her to a corner.

“Can we dance?” El asked instead, but she must’ve seen the panicked look on Max’s face and followed her anyway, the two of them making their way through the crowd as smoothly as they could without spilling their drinks.

“See anyone you know?” Max asked, knowing the answer would be no, but El nodded anyway and pointed to people she’d seen in the hallways but had never talked to. “Isn’t he a senior? What is he doing here?”

They eyed the older kids, who entered the room as if they lived there. Max felt her stomach lurch and she instinctively grabbed El’s arm again to pull her away.

“Please,” she said, and pulled and pulled until she found an empty room upstairs, more of a closet really, and pulled El inside and shut the door.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted.

El found the light switch and turned to face her. “For?”

“For not allowing you to have fun.”

El’s face softened and she stepped closer to her, eyeing the still shut door before pressing her lips to Max’s.

Max leaned into the kiss, feeling herself relax in the familiarity. Her safety.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” El finally said, resting their foreheads together. “I’m sorry I dragged you here.”

“No, no! I wanted to come, I just- I get a bit anxious. But I want you to have fun, which is why I wanted to come. I want us to have fun. I’m sorry I’m not letting us.”

“I can have fun with just you too, you know,” El said.

“I know, I just- I’ve been an outcast my entire life. These things didn’t matter to me, but I know they do to you.” She stroked El’s cheek. “I just get a bit panicked, which is why I tend to avoid them.”

“You always seemed so cool to me. Calm.”

Max felt her smile soften. “It’s all an act, you know. I’m chaos inside.”

“My chaos.” El grinned and leaned in to kiss her again. “We can leave if you want.”

“No. Let’s find the others instead. It might calm me.”

“Wait.” El lowered her head, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “Do the thing.”

“The thing?”

“You know. Show me what a monster’s like.”

Max grinned now. “Oh that? Okay then.”

El giggled. Max knew she partly asked because she knew it brought Max great joy to see her laugh, but she suspected El enjoyed this more than she let on. Maybe they’d talk about it one day.

She leaned in and pressed her lips to El’s neck, growling in a way that made her feel silly had she not loved the way El crumbled beneath her. She’d started it when they’d decided she would be the monster a week prior, and feeling playful she’d started growling into Eleven’s skin, relishing in her ticklish laughter, and they’d kept it up ever since.

She only did it briefly now, afraid someone would walk in on them, but El was laughing gleefully the whole time anyway, gripping Max’s forearms without pushing her away.

And it helped, just like El probably suspected it would.

Max was so in love with her.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Resting Time

Eris x reader

For Day 1 of @acotar-omegaverse-week — Nesting: Surely there’s a perfectly normal, completely unsuspicious reason they’re feeling an irresistible urge to arrange and rearrange the blankets and pillows…. right?

word count: 1,233

——————————————————————————————————————————————

“Are you done?” Eris asks, shoulder pressing to one of the four thick, dark-wooden posts that make up your grand-sized bed. 

You take a few steps back, looking over the covers: the sheets are a dark red; the duvet and pillowcases are in a lighter shade, edged with maroon coloured inch-thick hems; the thin blanket that goes atop the duvet has a floral pattern on its underside, with burnished gold stitching embroidering vines onto its topside; the five pillows are stacked symmetrically, two on each side with one in the middle. The pillows at the bottom of the pile are square, each case matching the colour of the duvet, while the two atop the square ones are rectangular and have the matching floral pattern of the blanket, and the smallest pillow propped atop the other four is a flattened cylinder, with golden tassels hanging off its circumferences. 

Teeth chew your lower lip. You shake your head, starting forward. “No, the rectangular cushions should be below the square ones, so they’re propped up at a diagonal.” 

“Honey, we’re going to take them off anyway to sleep.” 

“You most certainly will not—wait!”

A pair of broad palms have slid around your waist, turning you half a circle before lifting you effortlessly to the air and tossing you into the plush centre of the bed, your body sinking into the plush duvet and mattress. “Eris, you’ve ruined it,” you whine, looking at the wrinkles that are now pressed into the freshly ironed sheets. But your mate follows, hovering over you, his two powerful arms settling either side of your head, muscles shifting beneath the crisp, pale linen of his shirt as he dips down, nosing at your throat. 

Heat warms your cheeks, lips curving at the ticklish lick of breath fanning across your neck, his tongue tentatively licking once, twice, over your skin. His hair falls forward from his shoulders, brushing your collarbones, bringing a wave of his scent to your attention. He smells good. Fresh, and crisp, and clean. Like an autumn day but perhaps without the dampness of morning dew. Just that fresh, hazelnut scent. Golden sugar dusted over fire-roasted chestnuts. Pecans and marzipan. Warm spices and woodsmoke. 

“You smell good,” you mumble, arms lethargically pulling themselves up over his back, wanting to bring him down to your level to better feel him. 

“Fawn,” Eris begins, pulling up from your body, making you whine. “Are you nesting?” 

Your brows furrow. “I can be particular about how things should be displayed without it meaning I’m nesting, Eris. Don’t you want things to look nice?” 

“You spent ten minutes rearranging your breakfast this morning…” 

“I just wanted it to look appetising. And I wasn’t that hungry then.” 

“And changing all the covers on the cushions in our living chambers? And the parlour?” 

“They hadn’t been changed in months. Don’t you think they look good?” 

“They look lovely. But what about the painting yesterday? And now the bedsheets?”

You glance sideways at the bedsheets, worrying your lower lip. “I thought so too. I should have chosen the maroon ones instead… Wait, we have pale duvet covers don’t we? The ones with the black and rouge trimmings? Those would look much better.” You make to scramble out from beneath him, but he lays one palm firmly over your hip, keeping you still. “Honey…” 

“I’m not nesting.” You grumble, glaring at him playfully. Eris’ expression is a portrait of skeptical doubt. Your brows furrow. “I’m not.” 

“Mhmm.” 

Your tongue clicks, half rolling your eyes. “I think I would know, Eris,” you remind, folding your arms across your chest. “But if it’s bothering you…” 

“It’s not bothering me. What’s bothering me is that it’s half eleven at night and you’re wanting to change the covers again. They look perfect.” He adds on swiftly when you make to glance at the sheets again. “You’ve done a lovely job. Now let’s go to sleep.” 

Lips pressing together, you avert your gaze. “You really think they’re perfect?” 

“Yes. They look wonderful—so good I want nothing more than to sleep in them.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Believe me, I’m sure.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “They’re perfect. Now please can we sleep?” 

Reluctantly you give a nod of your head. “Alright…sorry for keeping you awake so long…” Eris’ lips curve faintly, a soft twinkle in his eyes. “I’m sure I’ve kept you up for much longer in the past, for different reasons.” Heat flutters in your lower tummy, eyes flicking down to the collar of his shirt, the pale skin it’s showing off with the slight V-neck. Your eyes do feel pretty heavy…

Eris chuckles. “See? You’re tired too. You need to rest.” 

“Okay…” 

You clamp down on a complaint when he pulls the duvet back, disrupting the smoothness you’d so carefully aimed for. “Come over here,” Eris instructs, a note of affection in his fatigued voice. You grumble, but roll to your allocated side of the bed, allowing him to tuck you in properly before he slides in beside you. 

Without a second’s delay you’ve squashed yourself up to his front, pressing your face into his chest, dragging his scent down in lungfuls. He really smells good.

Eris pauses, before he’s shifting his arms to be around you, a palm pulling hair out from under you. “Sweet little omega.” You hear him murmur to the crown of your head, stroking your skin soothingly. You eagerly squeeze closer, so you’re pressed together from your feet to your head, your legs having twined with his. Fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt, pulling it to your nose to take a full inhale. 

“I’m wearing this tomorrow,” you mumble, crawling a few inches further up his body so you can take his scent from his skin, wanting to lick up his flavour; wrap yourself in him. His reply is muffled. “It’ll be going in the wash tomorrow. This is the third night I’ve worn it.”

“I’ll take it out before it can be washed.” 

“I’m telling you,” he sighs, exasperation underlying his voice, “you’re—”

“I’m not,” you huff, lips curved in a smile. “I would know. Besides, it shouldn’t be happening for another month.” 

“Maybe it’s coming early.” 

“It’s not,” you mumble, mouth slurring your words together. “You’re just seeing what your alpha mind wants you to.” 

“Mhmm. Because it’s happening right before my keen alpha eyes.” 

You shoot him a withering glare, able to hear his deadpan drawl. He offers a sleepy smirk, and your temper is mellowed almost instantly, clutching tighter to him. “I’m just saying I know my omega well. The Mother knows I’d have no quarrel with you starting to nest earlier than we expected.” 

“That’s lovely, but I assure you I’m not.” 

“We’ll see,” he laughs softly, tucking the crown of your head beneath his chin, large palm stroking across your back. 

A beat of silence passes, and you’re on the verge of falling asleep when he speaks again. “I’d be happy to give you my shirt tomorrow if you were nesting, though.” 

“You won’t be leaving the bed if I am,” you mumble back. “I’ll be burying us together beneath all your clothes.” 

Eris groans, but beneath your palm you can feel as his pulse quickens, his heart betraying his true emotion. 

Maybe you are starting earlier than you thought…

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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover @mrsjna

[luveline]

i’m addicted to ur hop stuff omg!! no one writes hop fluff like u do 🥺🥺 could u do smth like a slow morning w hop!! ft el if u feel like it xx

“Why are you still in bed?” 

You stir at the question, but are quickly settled by a hand on your back so much bigger than your own. “I don’t want to wake her up.” 

“You say sleeping the morning away is a waste of time.” 

“I let you sleep in all the time.” The big hand rubs a circle into your back. It takes you a few moments to orientate yourself without moving. Your face is in someone’s lap, your arm hugging strong thighs. “She’s still not used to staying up that late to watch Miami Vice.” 

“Twenty three hours isn’t late.” 

“Eleven o’clock is late for people who work all day, El. Can you keep the noise down until she wakes up by herself?” 

“You’re with her.” 

“I mean when she wakes herself up. No intervention.” 

“Okay. Do you want me to make breakfast?” 

Hopper’s smile is audible. “Yeah, kid, okay. You can make breakfast. Don’t burn yourself on the toaster, okay? You remember? It gets hot all over.” 

“Hot all over,” El repeats. 

Quiet is restored for a while. You sleep some more, dozing on a loving lap, likely dribbling a patch into pants. The big hand never stops moving, not once to what you can tell, scrubbing circles into your skin until you feel numb to his touch, almost ticklish. It makes you squirm.

“About time.” 

“What’s about time?” you mumble, forcing your face further into his leg. 

“You’ve been sleeping for hours.” 

Your head tips back, intent on meeting his eyes and proving you’re not the slovenly creature he seems to think you are, but your eyelids are heavy and he’s warm in your arms. “Good morning,” you say affectionately. 

Hopper can pretend to be as much of a hard ass as he likes, he hears your scratchy morning voice in tandem with your saccharine greeting and obviously melts. Even half-asleep, you can sense it, and as his arms slide under your arms and he leans back against his pillows, you force yourself to open your eyes and see his chuffed smile. 

He’s grinning like he won something, hugging you to his chest. 

“Good morning,” he says quietly. 

You press your face to his front. 

“I heard El,” you say. 

“She’s making breakfast.” 

You’d been worried about staying the night because El’s still young, and Hopper’s bedroom is just a section of the cabin’s living room; if she needs to pee at night or if she wakes up before you, she is forcefully presented with an adult relationship. Which isn’t to say you’d risk being inappropriate with Hopper somewhere she could see, it just means that intimacy comes in all shapes and sizes, and El is unfamiliar with so much of it, and, more importantly, Hopper’s her dad. She hasn’t had to share him before. 

But El’s loving, and she hasn’t minded you being here. She doesn’t falter when she comes upon you and Hop tangled together in the morning, she just asks for toast or tells Hop he needs to come and open a window for her. 

She brings breakfast for you all on a tray and sits on the end of Hopper’s bed. It’s a frankly audacious amount of undercooked waffles and toast, a maple syrup bottle sticky from abuse laying side down with the knives and forks. 

“Thanks, baby,” Hopper says quietly. “This is perfect.” 

“Why do you guys hug so much?” she asks, spearing a waffle with her fork. 

You, having pulled yourself from Hopper’s lap just long enough to come around, don’t have the wits to answer. Hopper clearly hopes you will, and deliberates for a long time before he says, “It’s comforting.”

“Like you’re upset?” she asks. 

“Nope. Just, it makes me feel better to– to make sure she feels happy.” 

You yawn. “It’s like making breakfast, honey. You made everyone breakfast and now we’re all looked after. You feel good because we appreciate you for doing it, and we feel good because somebody did something nice for us.” You yawn again, your jaw clicking formidably.

El likes this answer, eating the majority of her portion before she talks again. “Thanks for staying up to watch Miami Vice,” she says. “Mike says it’s a waste of time.” 

“Mike’s a waste of time,” Hopper says, not quite without heat. 

“I like Miami Vice,” you say, trying to bat crumbs off of the sheets before Hopper notices them. 

Hopper grabs your hand. He’s laughing already, tugging you toward him, muttering, “God, you’re so messy,” as you lean in to be kissed on the cheek. 

“Not that messy,” you say, making eye contact with El hopefully. 

“Super messy,” she says. 

[cobrakaisb]

she's my new dream

summary: in a house in suburban connecticut, may castellan spends her days making peanut butter sandwiches, burnt cookies, and red kool-aid; luke spends his days at camp half-blood, dreaming of his future, an installment in the luke & angel series 

word count: 1.32k

featuring: fluff with a hint of angst? or angst with a hint of fluff? you guys decide, luke’s pov!!, set pre tlt!

song lyrics at the end: i want to write you a song by one direction

italics = may castellan flashbacks, everything else = current/luke’s daydreams

the house with the blue siding and white picket fence was located on the corner of an intersection. it was surrounded by serenity, shrouded from view. most people living there ignored it; they all heard the stories about its inhabitants, or inhabitant rather. the crazy lady, who’s son went missing at nine years old. the woman who spends her days waiting for him to return, who genuinely believes that every boy in the neighborhood is her son. sometimes, when the air is hot and humid, they can smell the burnt chocolate and see the thick, gray smoke floating out the kitchen window. sometimes, when the children are riding up and down the streets on their bikes, they can hear her calling. she repeats the same name, like a prayer. luke…luke…luke

“luke,” you snap, shaking his shoulder vigorously. he jolts awake, shooting upright in his bunk. he takes a deep breath, hands fisting at the white sheets. his head whips around, back and forth. he’s trying to pinpoint the smell of burnt cookies that seems to linger in his nose because he knows she’s not here. 

“luke, hey,” you say, calling his attention. seeing you, in your neon orange shirt, grounds him. he’s not at his mother’s house, he’s in cabin eleven at camp half-blood with you perched on the side of his bed. he meets your gaze, relief flooding his brown eyes. “sorry,” he mumbles. “bad dream?” you ask, looking at him inquisitively. he nods, and you don’t push him further than that, simply tracing the veins in his hands, which are still gripping at the sheets. he relaxes under your touch, finally letting go of the fabric.

the tension in his shoulders fade at the sight of your gentle smile. he feels one take over his own face, and he intertwines his fingers with yours. “everything okay?” he asks, looking at you. you shrug your shoulders, a carefree smile on your face despite the worry in your eyes. “just missing you,” you reply sheepishly, suddenly transfixed by a chip in his bed frame. luke smiles at that, his eyes full of mischief and arrogance. “oh really?” he teases, leaning his chin on your shoulder, so that his lips ghost against the shell of your ear when he speaks. you giggle at the ticklish sensation of his breath on your skin, shoving him back with a hand on his chest. “don’t be weird about it,” you say, standing up from his bed. “the only one being weird about it is you angel.”   

you roll your eyes at his words, shaking your head in disbelief. “i came here to check on you, out of the kindness in my heart, and this is what i get? unbelievable castellan,” you reply, leaning down so that your arms can wrap around his neck. luke grins at your words, dimples indenting his cheeks. “you love it,” he answers, leaning his forehead against yours. the two of you stay there for a moment, basking in the close proximity and quiet atmosphere of the hermes cabin. 

the door slams open, causing you to spring apart. chris storms into the cabin, a handful of other hermes boys following him. they’re all laughing and shoving each other, but one of them freezes when he notices you and luke. “thought you were sick castellan?” he teases, and the group laughs at luke’s red cheeks. “shut up andrew,” he mumbles, pushing the comforter off as he finally gets out of bed. his hand comes to rest on the small of your back as he ushers you out the door. “see you guys later,” chris calls. luke answers for the both of you with a middle finger. 

“that’s not my son’s fate,” she shrieks, vigorously shaking her head. the older girl grimaces at her words, but the younger one is confused, opting to hide behind the raven haired girl instead of facing the older woman. he stands between the woman and the girls, fists clenched at his sides. he wants to reach out, comfort her, but he knows there’s no hope when she’s having one of her episodes. he doesn’t understand what she’s saying, but he has a good enough idea. he lets his eyes drift to the other side of the kitchen, where he sees a plate with a sandwich and a glass of red kool-aid.

luke watches from across the dining pavilion as you cut up the food for a younger camper. they’re blabbing away about something to you, and the whole time you’re nodding your head and smiling, hanging on to each and every word. he sees your lips moving on occasion, adding something to the story the young demigod is telling you. for a moment, he's transported through time, standing in the kitchen of a house that he doesn’t recognize. there are two young children sitting at the table, watching as you make them a sandwich. they are clearly carbon copies of the two of you, and they eagerly take the plates from your hands when you’re done making them lunch. he looks at the food one more time, and realizes that the two kids are eating peanut butter sandwiches. just like him. 

“it’s our turn. get up,” chris says, shoving luke’s shoulder as he walks towards the giant firepit in the middle. luke grunts, disappointed that he couldn’t continue living out his daydream, but he stands up without a second thought. his brown eyes meet your intense stare from across the hall, and he’s met with a small smile that makes his heart burst. for the first time in a long time, he actually prays to a god, begging for his daydreams to become a reality. 

his shoulders are tense, back rigid, as he sits at the dining room table. his eyes dart across the room, following the woman’s every step. she stops in front of him, placing a sandwich and glass down on the table. “eat your lunch baby,” she mumbles, fingers brushing his black curls away from his forehead. he gulps, nodding his head as opposed to speaking. she’s present, but her eyes are in a far off place, seeing things he can’t understand while her ears listen to voices that aren’t really there. he’s waiting for an episode to break out; he’s waiting for his chance to leave.

“what if we just left camp?” luke asks, turning so that he’s looking at you instead of the stars. you laugh breathily at his words, “where would we go?” he doesn’t answer, instead opting to take the moment to look into your pretty eyes, shining with mirth. you blink, lashes resting on your cheeks. he can’t help but think that you look ethereal in the moonlight. “anywhere,” he finally answers, “as long as i’m with you.” you smile at his words, turning so that you're laying on your side, completely facing him. “we could escape to the countryside,” you say, an adrift look in your eyes as your mind wanders. luke’s does too…

a small house in the countryside, with just enough room for your little family. he sees the two children, the ones from before, running around in the grassy terrain. they’re laughing and giggling, completely carefree and unaware of the struggles their parents faced. he’s sitting on a wooden swing, with his arms wrapped around your shoulder. your back is to him, feet curled up to your chest as you read a book. it’s old and well-loved, just like the two of you, but he knows better than to disturb your reading. he can hear the children yelling, begging for luke to join them in their games. “they’re calling for you angel,” you whisper, still entranced by the words on the page. he hums, kissing your shoulder as he gets up from the swing, leaving the veranda. everything is peaceful.  

everything i need i get from you // and giving back is all i wanna do

[wileys-russo]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJv9uRjT/

can you write a fic where reader annoys lessi like this while she is trying to order at a drive through for us plsplspls

inspired by the tik tok obviously and also alessia looking good af driving her mercedes

iced coffee II a.russo

you adjusted your seatbelt and tucked one of your knees up to your chest as alessia pulled up to her favourite cafe, which now did drive through. a god send for the blonde who struggled out of bed every morning despite your insistence she wake up or the two of you would be late to training.

it meant it left little to no time for either of you to stop and get a coffee, or make one at home, and so a drive through was the perfect option.

though today neither of you had training, in fact you really weren't sure how you'd ended up passenger princessing for the day alongside your favourite blonde. ring clad fingers drumming the steering wheel her hair was pulled up into a messy bun and her favourite pair of black prada sunglasses covered her ocean blue eyes.

your girlfriend for once was the first awake today, gently shaking you and kissing your forehead, sweet nothings mumbled in your ear as she held you tightly while you slowly awoke. you were startled at the time, not planning to have gotten up until eleven without any commitments on today.

you also hadn't thought you'd be waking up next to alessia given she had two photo shoots back to back today with adidas and oakley. when you'd gone to bed the plan had been she’d be out until around three in the afternoon, and you’d not needed to go with her.

but as alessia’s alarm had gone off and she groggily awoke, seeing you dead asleep beside her was a sight she rarely saw given that she was always the last one up between you.

your nose twitching every now and then you stirred and cuddled into her more, tucking your face into her chest as she swooned, your cheeks flushed and hair sprawled across the crisp white linen, rosy pink lips slightly pursed.

alessia was absolutely smitten with you and so in that moment as her heart soared with love for you, she decided you were coming with her today wether you wanted to or not, the thought of leaving you all alone like this was one she simply refused to bare.

however with your day planned to include sleeping, napping and lazing around on the lounge you were much less appreciative of the early wake up and the somewhat forceful change to your schedule.

"good morning! what can i get for you?" the barista chimed out happily as alessia rolled down the window. “good morning! can i please start with a large skim iced caramel-“ the blonde squealed suddenly as your fingers poked beneath her armpit where you knew she was incredibly ticklish.

“what are you doing?” she whispered as she shoved your hand away with a frown, turning back to the window and rambling out an apology as you poked her again with a grin as she flinched.

“oh my god.” her hand shot out to tightly grip your wrist, pinning your hand down in her lap as she realised what you were up to.

“sorry! can i please get a skim iced caramel cappuccino with an extra shot? and also a regular oat flat white with-?” alessia began to rattle off both your orders as usual.

“baby no I want the same as you.” you nudged her with your foot, desperately trying to pull your hand away from her iron vice grip but it was to no use as it remained pinned in her lap.

“sorry can you please make that two of the large skim iced-“

“actually no i’ll have my regular order.” you changed your mind, not missing the warning glare thrown your way by the very irritated blonde beside you who without having had her morning coffee yet, was running on a thin level of tolerance for your antics.

“sorry no i will have the same as you!” you changed your mind again as alessia was mid way through re-ordering your normal choice. “are you serious right now?” the girl flicked her sunglasses on top of her head and scowled in your direction, a simple action which was unexplainably hot to you.

“sorry i’m a bit lost. could you start your order over?” the barista requested politely and you winced as alessia’s nails dug into your wrist in warning as she hastily rattled off two of her regular orders, still trying to pull yourself out of her grip.

“beautiful. can i get anything else for you? we actually just added a brand new breakfast sandwich to the menu. it has bacon, egg, hash brown, sausage patty and cheese!” the barista recounted, clearly having been told to push the newest item.

“ooo that sounds lovely!” alessia nodded along with wide eyes, her stomach grumbling at the thought.

“ooo that sounds lovely!” you mocked her, definitely loud enough for the barista to hear as a slight laugh was quickly covered up by a fake cough and echoed through the speaker.

you only smiled innocently as alessia shot you a murderous glare, her jaw clenched as she opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it, turning back around.

you licked your finger and when she wasn’t paying attention you shoved it in her ear, jumping away as she reached over and tried to hit you, her fist thumping into the leather head rest of her merc.

“you’re testing my fucking patience.” the striker warned quietly, nostrils flared as once again you smiled innocently, finding her ungodly attractive when she was angry with you.

“will that be all?”

“actually can I get both those coffees with light ice?” alessia remembered how quickly it would likely melt in the warmer weather, hardly wanting to water down her favourite beverage.

“no i want regular ice.” you shook your head as alessia started to repeat that. “no actually light is fine!” you changed your mind, shoving the blondes shoulder and tickling under her arm now she’d let your hands go.

“oh my god.” alessia forced herself to take a deep breath, apologising calmly to the barista and repeating her order back at the girls request. but as you started to interrupt her she lunged at you, one hand grabbing the back of your neck and the other slapping over your mouth.

she managed to somehow get through the rest of the order, thanking the barista and moving forward, taking her hand off the back of you neck to steer.

alessia battering off your ongoing attempts to annoy her, settled somewhat by the fact she would have a coffee and breakfast in her hands soon, eventually collecting everything and pulling out of the driveway, not without giving you another withering glare as you happily picked at your food and sipped on your coffee with a grin.

“you are such a brat.”

[syoish-aot]

"I Found You" - Part 1

I can't stop thinking about this really obscure reader/eren idea so hear me out:

post canon (sort of???)

reader/eren

reverse isekai & memory loss

not smut (sorry)

word count: 690

*********

The last thing Eren remembers is the chaste press of Mikasa's lips against his as the world fades away into nothing.

The first thing Eren feels is the ticklish brush of your lips against his as the world comes back into view.

He died. He knows he died because that was the whole damn point of almost destroying the world. Almost killing everyone so his friends have someone to stop and they can be seen as heroes instead of devils.

It was his plan all along. The only plan that made sense. And he'd succeeded, he knew he had succeeded so-...

So why is he still alive?

Eren doesn't want to open his eyes, so he doesn't.

Instead, he lays there against the bed- a bed so much softer than one he'd ever had the pleasure of laying against, especially after years and years of fighting.

Eren can't remember the last time he didn't wake up sore- probably not since he was a little kid, ignorant to the truth of the world.

But right now he's not sore. Right now he's in a soft bed and the lips that had been against his had long since faded into a shuffling at the other side of the room.

Was it Mikasa? Would he open his eyes and be in that cabin he had created, just for the two of them?

If he didn't open his eyes then he could pretend that's what it was. If he didn't open his eyes he could be anywhere.

But then-

"Eren." You laugh softly, from the other side of the room.

It's not a voice he recognizes.

You look over at your boyfriend, who's still laying shirtless in bed even though it's well past eleven. It might be a Saturday, but the two of you had plans and you'd agreed the night before that you would not give them up to spend the whole day lazing around your apartment wrapped up in each other (as wonderful as that sounds right now, especially with how dreamy he looks with his face relaxed in blissful peace and his hair splayed out across the pillo- No no no no no- NO DISTRACTIONS!)

You see his eyelids twitch, meaning he’s awake but he’s purposefully trying to pretend to be asleep.

That jerk.

You figure he can have another few minutes though so you turn back to the mirror in front of you and put in your earrings. Then, you stand back and flatten out your cocktail dress. 

It’s a simple dress, but one of your favourites. Form fitting and long sleeved with soft dark blue fabric that cuts off mid thigh. It makes you feel mature, which is something you should probably already feel in your mid twenties but-... but honestly you normally feel more like a teenager playing pretend. 

Speaking of playing pretend: 

“Eren, seriously.” You laugh again as you cross the room. “We have to leave in forty five minutes and you need to take a shower.” You say as you crawl back into bed and straddle him, your thighs against his hips. You lean forwards, placing your hands against the pillow on either side of his head and lean down so your lips can ghost over the shell of his ear. “When we get back home we can do that thing you like~ and if you get up now I’ll even let you-”

Suddenly you’re flipped.

Eren has you pinned against the mattress with your hand painfully pressed against your back. 

“E-Eren!” You exclaim as your shoulder strains, wrist no doubt bruising against his tight grip. 

He’s done this to you before- playfully, with less strain against your arm and when you’re in the mood to get a little freaky but right now this- this isn’t that. This is something else.

And that’s confirmed when he finally speaks, adding a slight pressure to your arm which has you hissing in pain:

“Who the hell are you?” He demands in a tone that you don’t recognize. 

It’s your boyfriend behind you, you know it’s your boyfriend behind you.

But at the same time, it’s a total stranger.

(edit: I continued this...

PART 2 -> )

[olsenmyolsen]

The Farmer's Daughter

(A WandaNat Story)

New Chapter Every Friday

AU

The Synopsis and Cast of Characters

Chapter One: A Piece of Paper

Chapter Two: A Place To Work and A Place To Live

Chapter Three: Meeting Wanda Maximoff

Chapter Four: The Farmer's Daughter

Chapter Five: Getting It Together

Chapter Six: A Nightmare

Chapter Seven: Okay

Chapter Eight: Back to Work

Chapter Nine: Feelings

Chapter Ten: Pie Baking While Hungover

Chapter Eleven: A Weekend Away Pt. 1 - Pictures

Chapter Twelve: A Weekend Away Pt. 2 - Black and Bruised

Chapter Thirteen: For You

Chapter Fourteen: Someone's Ticklish

Chapter Fifteen: Long Distance Calls

Chapter Sixteen: Your Brother is a Bother...

Chapter Seventeen: ...But There's Karaoke

Chapter Eighteen: The Silence

Chapter Nineteen: Meet The Bartons

Chapter Twenty: Breakfast

Future Chapters Coming Soon...

[dira333]

what about makki and #17 for the plot bunny game?

Thank you for requesting him. I want to write something for him but since I'm feeling a little meh at the moment, I'll do my best now and give him something else later instead of obsessing to get this right for ages!

We go deeper than the ink beneath the skin of our tattoos

You're five years old when you draw your first heart onto Makki's ankle. He's incredibly ticklish, so it ends up looking more like an egg.

You're seven years old when he leaves bite marks in your leg because he's convinced he's turning into a vampire - it hurts a little bit, but he pays you back with ice cream cake.

You're nine years old when you go through the phase of playing Family and it's always the same: You're the Mom, Makki is your husband and Mattsun's your loyal family dog.

You're eleven years old when Mattsun kisses Momo from the next class over. It's just a silly game of truth or dare and he complains all the way home that she bit him right after, but your poor little heart just won't stop beating, fearing the next time someone brings up this game. What if you have to kiss someone? What if it isn't Makki? What if Makki kisses someone that isn't you?

You're eleven years old when Makki sneaks into your room at night to wake you up, to ask you why you've been looking constipated all day, to sit cross-legged on your pillow, determined to stay until you tell him the truth.

You're eleven years old when you kiss him for the first time. It tastes like toothpaste and blood from chewed-up lips, like childhood and growing up, best friends and something more.

You're twelve when Makki kisses Momo - and tells you later that he doesn't really like her. You're thirteen when you kiss Yaguchi from your art Class - and it's just not the same.

But you're both seventeen when you kiss again, behind the gym, on a sunny day in spring, knowing that this time it will mean something different, something more than the curiosity of children.

"Do you even have to get married?" Mattsun asks over a plate of cake samples. "I thought you did that already when we were kids."

"I doubt the Japanese Government accepts our family dog officiating a wedding," you argue, holding a forkful of lemon meringue pie in front of Makki's lips. He takes the bite, chews slowly and nods.

Mattsun groans. "Could you stop using telepathic communication? I feel left out."

"You can play our family dog again," Makki offers, "Or ask Momo out like I told you to."

my Kofi if you want to tip me

[blushyeleven]

hey so I have had this comment request in my fic list for a while so I’m so sorry it took so long!

Thankyou all for being so patient!

Warnings: tickles, light swearing

Characters!: ler/lee!dustin ler!eleven Lee!max

𝘚𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴

It was another damp,drizzly day in the town of Hawkins with rain falling, pattering to the ground and the sky covered in silvery clouds.

“Okay el.. truth or dare!” Max said and smiled . Eleven, max and dustin sat in elevens bedroom playing a childish game of truth or dare. It was only the three of them thst day because the rest of the group were either to “busy” or didn’t want to travel to hoppers cabin in the rain

They planned for it to only be max and el hanging out that day but when dustin announced through this walkie-talkie that he was free, eleven and max couldn’t leave him alone.

“truth!” Eleven excitedly responded “hmm.. would you rather give up me or eggos?” Max said with a raised eyebrow.

Without hesitation Eleven answered with “eggos! I can live without them” max’s smile lit up. “Awh your so cute” max teased and followed with a poke to elevens stomach. Causing her to giggle, bat maxs hand away and blush. Max instantly started smirking and dustin just watched and rolled his eyes (poor dustin.. always the the third wheel)

“Dustin it’s your turn to ask!” el stated.

“Hm! Okay max, truth or dare?” Dustin said as him and el watch max start to ponder about her decision

“Truth” she declared smirking at dustins disappointed face. “boringg.. but alright - what’s your weakness?”

Max eyes grew at the heart-pounding question “I uhm don’t have one” she managed to stutter out. Real smooth max. She thought to herself

Maxs answer had eleven giggling slightly and dustin furrowed his eyebrows at her

“Everybody has a weakness” dustin confused tone had El giggling more

“nope.. I don’t” max played it off seeming confident but inside she was dying. She wanted the ground just to swallow her up right there. The only person that knew about her weakness was El and she was not prepared to have Dustin find out and tell the whole party her embarrassing secret!

“but max your really ti-“ El tried to state but was cut of my max covering her mouth slightly “dont you dare” max softly threatened nervously. She didn’t mean to be so defensive to her girlfriend especially because she didn’t understand why this situation was so important but she couldn’t risk her weakness being blurted out.

“Hey leave her alone!” Dustin remarked as she elbowed her in the side. This came unexpectedly to max as she flinched and a giggle escaped her mouth

Dustin didn’t need els help this time to clarify what just happened. He use to have to many tickle fights with the party that he could read her reaction like a book.

El Just smirked and dustin followed with a tease that made maxs face glow an obvious red “are you sure you don’t have any weaknesses?”

Max gulped as she watched El and dustin slowly move closer with a predatory look on their face

“no! You scared me.. okay?” Dustin just rolled his eyes at maxs poor attempt to lie her way out of it

El pokes maxs side causing her to squeal slightly and block it with her hands “yea sure.. you look terrified” dustin joked and he pounced on her

“Dustin don’t you dAREHHEHARREE-“ max sentence was interrupted by her own squealing laughter as dustin prodded his fingers into maxs side causing a squirmy and squealing reaction from max

“NOHOHOHOOO ASSHOHOHOLEE!” Max spat out as the laughter just poured out of her mouth. Dustin looked extremely thrilled with his discovery and eleven just sat and watched, giggling at the state max was in. Maxs legs were flailing about as she aggressively kicked them causing Dustin to almost loose his balance.

“El come and help me!” Dustin moaned as el was more then happy to oblige. She exitedly crawled over sitting infront of maxs swinging legs.

“EHEHELLL PLEHEHEASEEE!” Max begged through her screams of laughter. Ofcourse eleven ignored her and gripped onto her foot and starts wiggling her fingers into her arch. Eleven know exactly we’re to tickle to get max to laugh the loudest. Of course only el knew this and el is the only person that ever will know.

“EEEK! NAHAHAHAAHAAAA ELL NOT THEREEE! BAHAAHA” eleven was smiling to herself, she loved hearing the sweet sound of maxs laugh. It was a rare occasion, especially for her to laugh so loudly and freely like this. Although eleven could tell the differences in maxs laugh. The only times she ever laughs the loudest is when she is tickled by el, when she is around her her laugh just flows freely out of her mouth. When she is tickled by anybody else her laugh is still loud but more controlled

Meanwhile dustin was fluttering his fingers over maxs covered stomach. “BAHAHHAA NOHOHOO” “woah max.. this is absolutely shocking” dustin teased. “SHUHUHUT UPPP!” Max practically yelled at him. Although max hated feeling weak she couldn’t deny that she was sort of having fun

Eleven was playing her foot like a guitar, strumming her fingers along her arches and scraping them down to her sole sending max into hysterics “NO GUYS COME OHOHONNN!!” “Awh max your so ticklish!” Eleven cooed clearly enjoying this way to much as dustin was still in shock. Max mayfield. The max mayfield was ticklish?

Dustin started squirming his fingers into maxs ribs, wiggling them like spiders. Maxs high pitched squeals and complaints were useless as they both looked like they weren’t stopping anytime soon

While max was in ticklish hell eleven was in heaven, she figured she could listen to maxs laugh on repeat for hours on end. She loved her bubbly giggles that subsided into wild laughter. It never failed to bring a smile to els adorably pink face.

“PLEHEHEHEASEEE” max wailed. “I think we should stop now before we kill her” eleven giggles slowing down her deadly fingers as dustin poked her side one more time “HEHEY!” and then he climbed off. “I hehehate you both” max said through deep breaths which eleven took as an opportunity to poke her foot again at that comment “EEK! Okay okay I love you El” eleven smiled and then crawled next to max

Max sat up and evil-eyed dustin “if you tell anybody your dead” Dustin reacted with a chuckle “or what?” he said clearly challenging her. Max just smirked at him and eleven watched curiously.

Max spontaneously poked his side causing him to flinch away with an alarmed squeak. “Eeeaa! no!” Max smirk got wider a she started sporadically jabbing her fingers into his sides. Dustin yelped and fell flat on his back, laughing uncontrollably “HEHEHEEE OKAHAHAHAYYY” “okay what?” Max teased as she began poking faster “AAAHAHHAHAHA I WOHOHONNT TELL ANYBOHOHODYY” dustin cried.

“How do I know your not lying..” max responded mischievously turning her quick poked into rough squeezes to his side “NAHAHAHHAHA I PROHOHOMISEEEE” and after that max haulted her ambush

“I was just joking.. jeez” dustin panted. “Well if anybody else finds out I won’t hesitate to do it again” max snarkily added

Max just chuckled to herself at how the childish game of truth or dare ended

[sanriokamabodo]

Interview with Akaza + Douma (Actor!AU)

A/N: wanted to write this as a full on fic but who am i kidding (not proofread haha..)

“Hi I’m Hakuji Soyama and I've had the honour to play Akaza since the Mugen Train Arc” He gives a brief nod after his introduction. Slinging his right leg over the other, he glances at his counterpart who awkwardly raises his hand.

“...And I play Douma.’’ He states, causing Akaza to erupt into a fit of laughter, the audience and interviewer joining him instantly.

“Well that’s one way to introduce yourself.” Akaza grins, dramatically wiping a tear away from his eye.

“So tell me, what’s it like behind the scenes?"

"I think everyone gets along great, we all have a similar end goal in mind and work hard to achieve that together."

Douma nods before starting. "This is my first big time job and everybody has welcomed me with open arms. The writers even listened to my ideas and we've made some changes together for me to portray him better."

"We've heard rumours about you all doing your own stunts. Is it true?"

Akaza sighs making Douma laugh.

"You know that one scene in the infinity castle where I parkour around like it's nobody's business? That took a week to film, I nearly had to relearn to walk again because I was dangling in the air so much."

"Tch, you're so dramatic." Douma quips.

"You didn't make it any easier for me! You know how ticklish my feet are and you kept taking advantage of it while I was hanging from the ceiling!" He scoffs jokingly. "You guys better appreciate that scene." He laughs, making the audience cheer for the duo.

"How do you guys get ready for a day of shooting? Walk me through the day you started filming the uppermoon meeting."

"Make-up is the first thing we do, during make-up we go over our scenes together."

"Whose make-up takes longest?"

"Hantengu's by a long shot. He's actually really good looking in real life."

"I second that. I think Hakuji's the quickest since he has temporary tattoo's and dyed his hair for the part. He only needs to put in his contacts."

"Muzan's actor is actually really soft-spoken in real life, we had to reshoot the 'Upper Moons' meeting a lot because he would be to gentle with us and we would end up laughing." Akaza chuckles.

"Who do you respect most among the actors?"

"I respect everyone, especially the younger actors! They're super professional. I shot a scene with Ume who plays Daki and she gave me a lot of useful tips."

"The way Rengoku's actor portrays him gave me chills. He did so beautifully! I really respect him!"

"Hakuji came home crying after they filmed Rengoku's death scene." Douma teases.

"It was a long day, alright?"

"Yeah, you guys live together right?"

"We've been best friends since we were like five, so becoming roommates when we both wanted to go to theater school was an easy decision."

"Is your friend a bit like the character he portrays?"

"Absolutely not! When we're not shooting he's cooped up in his room playing video games all day. I don't know how he maintains his figure because all I see him eat is instant ramen. I'm even convinced he's a virgin." He cooes at Douma, pinching his cheek.

"Get off me!" The platinum haired man laughs. "Like you're anything like Akaza, you manwhore."

Akaza shrugs, a sly smirk on his face. "I know a bit of martial arts. That's like my character, I guess."

"The karate workshop we had when we we're eleven? Really, that's your knowledge of martial arts?"

Akaza nods seriously, trying to hold in his laugh.

"Wow, you're really something..."

"We're almost out of time." The interviewer states. "Anything you want to add before we round this interview up?"

"I can't recommend watching Demon Slayer enough! I've never been so proud of a show or movie I've done, this is next level."

"What he said, and hi mum!" Douma says, waving at the camera with a toothy grin.

"Give a round of applause for the one and only Akaza and Douma! Thank you for the interview."

[ochrearia]

RBG ART PROMPTS LIST

All of these are things I'm pulling from my Poly Propaganda fanfic series because there are an alarming amount of drawable parts, either super vague or super specific lets get it.

(THIS POST WILL BE UPDATED WITH EACH NEW PART THAT COMES OUT BY THE WAY)

Part One:

BF smacking his dumbass leg straight into a metal pole while he daydreams about smooching GF and Pico

BF confined to the bed with an ice pack on said pole-smashed leg like a doofus

Part Two:

3. Pico relenting to GF holding his head in her hands, pushing his cheeks into the touch

4. Yourself shaking BF by the shoulders (THINK, MARK) telling him to snap out of his stupid fears

5. Pico and GF littering BF's cheeks with kisses after the scare

Part Three:

6. "I'm going to kiss the shit out of you if you keep this up." "Maybe that's what I want, hitman."

7. Little spoon BF big spoon Pico

Part Four:

8. Pico flaunting his new chromatics with a smug ass look and a mic

9. BF and GF with flushed faces because Pico's voice is hot

10. Pico laughing his ass off because he's got simps for his voice

Part Five:

11. Pico and BF fighting over the TV remote like toddlers

12. BF being an asshole abusing the fact Pico is ticklish

13. GF happy and indulging in the laughter of her boys

14. Any one of the three laughing w/ the provided synesthesia-induced colors

Part Six:

15. Pico gently holding a """"sleeping"""" GF in his lap while he talks out loud about how he's grown to love her

Part Seven:

16. BF and Pico riled up and pissed about some prick insulting GF

17. GF using her demon wings and purr to cuddle and placate them both

18. Flustered Pico because BF and GF always gang up to tease him

Part Eight:

19. BF being held by Pico and GF while he rides out a bad day

Part Nine:

20. All of the kisses in this part honestly there's a handful

21. Goofy smile and happy Pico because he's got silly butterflies in his stomach while he gets kissies

Part Ten:

22. 3 tired idiots in their sleepwear trying to unpack boxes

23. Trio piled together on a blanket-less bed, BF and Pico using GF's arms as pillows

Part Eleven:

24. FRIDAY NIGHT PAMPERIN'

25. "You can't go from frat boy to horrendously homosexual in two seconds!" "Waaa waaa it’s called bisexuality you ginger homophobe, pick a struggle goddamn."

26. GF and Pico taking the wildest double takes after BF admits to loving hearing them laugh

27. Pico whacking the shit out of BF with a pillow for the prior comment

Part Twelve:

28. BF and GF holding onto Pico for dear life while a thunderstorm goes off outside

Part Thirteen:

29. Absolute menace BF abusing the fact Pico and GF get all hot bothered and weak to his neck kisses

30. GF and Pico turning the tables immediately in revenge flustering the fuck out of BF

Part Fourteen:

31. BF's dream sequence

32. Yourself helping BF calm down + hug + Silly Billy music box lullaby

33. GF telling Yourself she's proud of him (accidentally sets him on an immediate spiral to a breakdown)

Part Fifteen:

34. Literally any of the three struggling with being touch-starved. Pick one or all

Part Sixteen:

35. Pico having a mental crisis over possibly being in love with both BF and GF

36. GF and BF comforting Pico after his outburst-breakdown

37. "Wanna be in a poly relationship with us?" "I'm scared about being in a relationship again but yes, yes I want to so badly"

Part Seventeen:

38. CUDDLE SANDWICH.

39. Pico hugging BF and/or GF like it's his last second alive

40. BF and GF joke fighting over who'd get to keep Pico in their pocket

Part Eighteen:

41. BF and GF dancing all silly in golden hour light

42. "My heart. My home. Together you are both, two people together as one. Where my love lies."

43. BF kissing the breath out of Pico

44. Stupid lovesick idiot snuggle pile

Part Nineteen:

45. Pretty tooth gap smile Pico

46. BF menace-ry

47. Puppy dog eyes GF

Part Twenty:

48. GF with her demonic features out being a hot girlboss

49. Dumbfounded BF having the hots for GF lmfao. Pico "Close your mouth BF fuck's sake"

50. Literally any part of the flirting. Jesus christ.

Part Twenty-One:

51. Koala-bear cuddly Pico

52. BF and GF reminiscing, also trying to get their stupid ginger to SLEEP DAMMIT

Part Twenty-Two:

53. Cherryblast kisses

54. BF dumbass smoking cigarettes and being distracted by random trinkets

55. BF MELTING TO UNDER-JAW KISSES

Part Twenty-Three:

56. Yourself/Silly Billy sticking halfway out the mirror talking to BF

57. BF absolutely yapping about being in love like a FREAK

58. Pico and GF in an absolute trance because Boyfriend.XML yaps. Literal heart eyes

Part Twenty-Four:

59. GF in BF's shirt

60. BF in Pico's sweater

61. Pico being an absolute sucker for both of them

Part Twenty-Five:

62. Pico and Nene about to kill the shit out of each other

63. "I DO NOT HAVE A LOVERBOY VOICE" -Pico, lying,

64. Darnell and Nene just being amused as fuck over how lap-dog core their friend has become

65. But in the same vein D and N are secretly really happy for Pico so it works out

Part Twenty-Six:

66. Pico losing it over the realization his two special someones trust him with their lives

67. Demon weighted blanket GF for Pico

68. BF spouting "I love you" over and over to the sleeping Pico in his arms

Part Twenty-Seven:

69. Pico calling BFGF freaks and attacking them /silly

70. BFGF with knowing looks watching Pico lean into their hands without thinking about it

Part Twenty-Eight:

71. Hypothetically, RGB existing as space debris for the rest of their lives, because they'd rather be together than alone

72. BF singing without his auto-tune microphone and absolutely enamoring GF and Pico

73. Pico kissing the knuckles of BF's hand because he would be a hand kisser.

Part Twenty-Nine:

74. Pico drowning in his own guilt and fear of being controlling over BF and GF

75. Yourself and Pico staring each other down like the stubborn shits they are

76. BF and GF terrified while Pico breaks down in their arms because seeing him upset makes them upset too

Part Thirty (M FOR SEXUAL CONTENT):

77. I mean it's just 1.8k words of body worship as of last update. Just any part of it tbh. Pico gets fucked up by GF and BF LMAOOOO

Part Thirty-One:

78. Pico completely asleep and being GF's personal teddy bear

79. GF using her magic to remove her offending musical emotions out of her head and glaring at them in the air

80. Pico having a heart attack over the form of how GF sees him, holding it to his chest and being so fucking in love

81. Pico also exploding into a blush because BF and GF kiss his musical self

Part Thirty-Two:

82. BF cuddled up against Pico's sweater nuzzling his nose in it

83. GF and Pico sad/angry that the world taught BF his birthday wasn't important

Part Thirty-Three:

84. Pico just horrendously collapsed on the couch because he can no longer move bitch is TIRED

85. BF CARRYING PCIO BRIDAL STYLE WHILE HE YELLS ABOUT NOT NEEDING TO BE CARRIED (he does)

86. Shy Pico soaking in the hot bath when BF and GF beg him to let them take care of him

87. All three of them in bed, Pico's nose pushed into BF's thigh while GF rubs his bare back in comfort

88. Pico squeezing the life out of an M-Raptor plushie

89. Freckle kisses...

Part Thirty-Four:

90. GF "I want to hold", BF "I want to be held", Pico "Both"

91. Pico losing the war against being sappy

92. GF in the kitchen with her scented candle hoard

Part Thirty-Five:

93. Pico singing to a "sleeping" BF

94. BF and GF arguing like an old married couple over who gets to be serenaded by Pico while he just sits there dying of embarrassment

95. Pico giving in and singing to both of them

Part Thirty-Six:

96. BF and GF flirting with each other calling each other pretty

97. A dozing Pico, comforted by his partners being flirty and loving behind him

98. Pico getting 3 seconds of victory by making BF blush calling him a pretty boy

99. GF giving Pico chin scritches that he enjoys far too much

100. BF getting Pico back, calling him a pretty boy and making him red in the face instead

Part Thirty-Seven:

101. Koala-Bear Pico with GF while she sleeps and he cuddles her for comfort

102. BF with Pico in his arms, petting comforting patterns into his back and singing the song "i5 pt. 2" to him with his real voice

103. Hypothetical post-fic trio cuddle pile where they're all tangled up in each other

Part Thirty-Eight:

104. Full demon mode GF with the black and red monarch butterfly patterned wings

105. Demon GF's lavender skin glowing with magic as she leaks the song of her emotions out into the air

106. Hurt/Comfort on the balcony, GF crying while clinging to BF and Pico

107. RGB back in bed cuddling with GF in the middle this time, for once

Part Thirty-Nine:

108. I mean. It's literally just about PicoBF and PicoGF makeouts... Staring directly into the camera like it's the office

109. But also BF calling Pico a "Needy Little Thing" on purpose

Part Forty:

110. More YS and BF shenanigans

111. BF bouncing around like an excited puppy about his poem

112. Pico not being able to Handle Poetry Written About Him

113. Storm of Demon Kissies for the boys!!!

[blainesebastian]

you fit right here (ccg universe)

words: 4,059 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (combined requests): anon requested: "first red carpet with Austin, anxiety and panic attack" + @aloversblog requested "paps accidently hurt the reader and austin is protective"  notes: tweaked the prompt here and there but the general premise is the same! ccg universe but for the most part, could be read alone warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylesmendeshearted, @rairaielv

Sometimes on lazy Sunday mornings, when the sun hasn’t even pushed through the curtains yet, you find yourself thinking a lot about what’s happened to you in a short period of time and how you have to convince yourself that you’re not dreaming. No one wrote a how-to guide about what it was going to be like to date a celebrity and admittedly you’re figuring it out one step at a time. It’s definitely not always easy or what you expected but you find you wouldn’t trade it for anything either, even when you’re not quite sure how you fit into Austin’s world.

That isn’t to say that he hasn’t carved out space for you, because he has, but you worry that it won’t always make a difference. There are plenty of places in which you stick out, requesting that sense of belonging that is automatically given to others who have already earned it. It’ll take time, you know that, but it doesn’t remove the anxiety and waves of frustration as much as you’d like.

“You’re aware of how much that’s in your head?” Jillian, one of your best friends, had told you once. “Austin clearly doesn’t care and neither should you.”

And she’s right, you know she’s right. Austin doesn’t want you to be an actress, or the kid of a famous producer, a model, wrapped up in a celebrity story or Hollywood cautionary tale—he simply wants you to be you. No changes, no strings attached.

You let out a soft sigh as you press your cheek into your pillow, turning onto your one side.

You’re still working on accepting that.

Reaching over onto your nightstand, you turn your alarm off before it can interrupt the morning stillness. The mattress shifts underneath you as Austin turns, a soft shiver running down your spine as he wraps an arm around your torso. He shifts closer, letting out a long breath from his nose that flutters against the back of your neck. You can’t stop the smile from tugging the corners of your mouth as warmth pools in your stomach, working its way down to your knees.

This has to be one of your favorite morning routines, the slow morning wake-up, the way Austin’s body feels against your own, solid weight and soft skin. He presses a few kisses into your shoulder, mapping across until his nose and lips dip into a crevice near your neck—

You squirm a little, a soft huff leaving your mouth, “Stop—I’m ticklish there.” Though there’s really no indication in your voice that you actually want him to stop.

Austin smirks lightly but backs off, “I know.”

His hand slips down along your side, arm muscles flexing a little as he pulls you closer. Your head tips back, fitting perfectly against his shoulder, shifting so that your nose and lips brush along his jawline. You plant a kiss there, your hand settling along his own, tracing his fingers with your thumb.

“You got in late last night.”

He nods, brushing his lips on your temple, “Had a few drinks with some castmates after the late night talk show. I was gonna call you but—already knew what your answer would be.”

You chuckle lightly, amused—he definitely knows you. It was probably at least eleven, maybe even midnight. You were wrapped up in a burrito blanket by then. “Was it a good time?”

“Would have been better with you,” He squeezes you briefly, “I didn’t wake you when I came in, did I?”

You shake your head, turning so that you can face him. His touch slips down along your back and a pleasant noise leaves your lips as your hand moves up and under his shirt, “Barely, just remember you gettin’ into bed. Definitely not like that one time where you tripped over the comforter.”

Austin groans, tipping his head back a little in an eyeroll that makes you laugh, “Never gonna live that one down.”

“You knocked over the nightstand, almost squished my cat.”

“He was perfectly fine,” He attempts to kiss you but you playfully move your head in the opposite direction a few times. He grins before he finally clasps your chin between his fingers, keeping you still, and leans down to press his lips against yours.

“You want breakfast?” You ask, cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his full lower lip.

He plants a kiss to the pad of your thumb before shaking his head, “Gonna sleep a bit more, got that fashion event tonight and that always comes with an after party.”

There’s a slight eyeroll before he lifts his hand to run it over his face, a yawn slipping out of his mouth. God, that’s right. You completely forgot about that fashion thing that Austin invited you to as his guest, and a small pit begins to build in your stomach. While you’ve gone with him to plenty Elvis red carpet events, this is the first one you’ll be attending that has nothing to do with his film. There’s a certain comfort that’s automatically gone—at least with Elvis events, you felt like people knew you, maybe there was even some less judgement given that you were on the same set as everyone else through filming.

This though is completely different—your first outside event as a couple. Nerve-wracking for a bunch of reasons you can name and even more that you can’t.

Austin tilts his head a little, looking down at you, his hand trailing up and down your arm, “You’re shaking.”

You swallow, pushing those thoughts away as you give him a soft smile, “Just cold.”

He hums lightly, holding your gaze as he tugs the blanket up to cover you a bit more. He doesn’t quite look like he believes you but he doesn’t press either. Instead, he continues to rub your arm, creating small, patterned circles with his fingers.

Austin’s quiet for a few moments, both of you lingering in touches and shared breathing. You’re almost convinced he’s fallen back asleep but you know he’s just giving you time to consider words in your mouth.

“I have no idea what to do with myself for tonight.”

There’s a soft smile on his lips, as if he might have considered you’d say something like that, “I asked one of my stylists to come over, she’s worked with me on a few past events. You’ll like her,” He brushes hair over your shoulder, “She’s nice.”

You offer him a small nod, the twinge of your lips tugging up into a tired smile. You appreciate the gesture, you know he’s trying his best to make you feel comfortable but you can’t help but feel as if you’re beating down waves of imposter syndrome. Maybe a bit more sleep for yourself wouldn’t hurt either, time to approach this event head on.

You deserve to attend it as Austin’s guest, not only that, but you deserve how happy Austin makes you as his girlfriend.

“C’mere,” He whispers, encouraging you to lean against him as he turns to lie on his back. Letting out a soft sigh, you drape your arm across his waist, molding yourself along his chest. You fit directly under his chin, like a puzzle piece slipping into place.

Your eyes flutter closed as you memorize the sound of his breathing, the thumping of his heartbeat lulling you back to sleep.

--

Penny, as it turns out, is definitely one of the nicest people you’ve met in the industry. You suppose you shouldn’t have suspected any less when Austin said he’d worked with her in the past. She’s not pushy or judgmental when she arrives, which maybe you were a little bit afraid of. You’ve experienced stylists on set that can offer crude feedback as if they’re doing you the favor of being critical.

This lovely older woman is the exact opposite—she brings a selection of dresses that match what Austin’s going to wear, which is a navy pin-stripe suit, and then tells you to pick whatever shade of makeup you think your skin tone wears best and she’ll provide a series of options for ‘looks’. When you choose a silver dress, she suggests brown shades for eyeshadow and lipstick with a hint of sparkle just to tie everything together.

You really appreciate her attention to detail.

“Austin is one of the sweetest people I’ve ever worked with,” Penny tells you as she takes your hair out of a heated curler, “He listens and speaks with intention, you know? Doesn’t matter who you are.”

You hum lightly, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. Not a lot has changed, not some big movie reveal or something like that. Just you with your hair curled and makeup professionally done, a mix of soft neutrals and silver highlights.

“Yeah, he’s wonderful,” You agree, smiling at her through the mirror, “It’s one of the things I love about him.”

She smiles, taking another curler out. She then reaches for a big round brush, slipping the prongs through your locks to give the waves body. A bit of hairspray…then all done.

“You should know, he talks quite a bit about you too.” Penny takes a step back, giving you a onceover. “Nothing but proud of you.”

You can’t stop your cheeks from kissing pink, shaking your head because you’re still working on accepting sentiments like that. That you do, in fact, deserve them. Taking a breath, you stand from the chair and move to go put your dress on—you’ve got about a half n hour before you have to get going to make the event on time. Which is apparently the fashionable ‘ten minutes late’ sort of thing.

“Well thank you,” You smile as Penny reaches for your hands to squeeze, “I really appreciate it.”

“I didn’t do too much,” She laughs, “You’re beautiful darling—I just added some sparkle.”

You swallow, holding her gaze for a long moment and suddenly you feel compelled to tell her this fear that’s been sitting in your chest like a flurry of moths, gnawing holes into your ribs.

“This is the first event that I’m going to as Austin’s girlfriend outside of Elvis and…” You hesitate, wondering if it sounds silly or foolish. “I’m just not sure how I fit.” And then you realize that…probably requires some sort of explanation or…evidence of support?

You shake your head, getting ready to take the whole conversation back when Penny moves a step forward with a somewhat knowing smile. She places a hand on your chest, right over your heart,

“For Austin, you fit right here—okay?” You hold Penny’s gaze for a long moment and nod because…even though you know that? For some reason, you really needed to hear it. It doesn’t completely remove all your apprehension, but it does help. “That’s all that matters.”

Hoping to keep as much comfort as this conversation provides in your back pocket, you move to get finished for tonight’s event.

--

Despite the fact that Austin isn’t on social media very much, when you move to get into the SUV to leave, he snaps a candid of you to put on his Instagram story.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” He says, pocketing his phone.

A soft laugh leaves your lips as you approach him, resting your hand on his chest. “Stop.”

He’s really one to talk—he looks perfect, like straight out of a GQ magazine or something. The suit hugs him attractively, making your stomach swoop down to your knees, heat settling between your legs.

He hums, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you close, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your lips, “Really nothin’ compared to what you had on last night before bed, but—”

You playfully push on his chest to get him to stop talking, a pretty flush resting on your cheeks.

Austin smiles, pulling the SUV door open for you to slip inside. The ride to the event is quiet, traffic a bit busy which…just ends up making your anxiety worse, the entire thing lengthened every time you stop at a red light. Running one of your hands nervously along your dress, you play with the soft fabric between your fingers, swallowing over your heartbeat in your ears as you look out the window.

You know it’s ridiculous to be scared about this red-carpet event—you know how Austin feels about you, you deserve to be there by his side, and even though others might see it differently? It doesn’t matter. The last thing you want to do is have Austin think that you can’t handle this.

“Y/N.”

You blink, turning your head to look at Austin who…seems like he’s been talking to you and you hadn’t even heard him. “What?”

His eyebrows crinkle together, his one hand moving across the middle of the backseat to rest over yours, “You alright?”

“Yeah, m’fine.” You give him a soft smile.

He holds your gaze for a long moment but doesn’t press, you’re sure he doesn’t believe you. “You know, we don’t have to stay at this thing for very long. I pretty much just need to be seen, talk to a few cameras, answer some questions, mingle after a few drinks.”

There’s a way out there, you can sense it but…really, you’re sure you’ll be fine after you have a glass or two of wine yourself. Just need to settle the nerves, take some deep breaths, follow Austin’s lead. It’ll be fine.

And you completely believe that until you begin to pull up, a block away, and see the massive crowd of people. Not just celebrities exiting their cars and walking onto the carpet, but a sea of fans embanked on both sides, lines upon lines of photographers and interviewers and—

Your heart begins pounding in your ears louder than before as the SUV pulls out of traffic to let you out and suddenly you feel utterly naked underneath this dress, a fraud, and it seems like something so obvious, tattooed on your forehead for everyone to see. You gulp down a breath, reaching a shaking hand for Austin’s forearm as he begins to open the door,

“Wait,” You choke out, “I can’t do this.”

Austin draws himself back into the SUV, frowning as he reaches to touch your shoulder, “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

A harsh laugh leaves your lips and you straighten your shoulders, almost wanting to get out of the car because it doesn’t feel like oxygen is circulating into your lungs. Like the dress is too tight and you just want to tear it right off your skin, or move, something to stop your hands from shaking.

“No, it’s not—I can’t breathe.”

“Hey,” Both of Austin’s hands settle firmly on your shoulders, squeezing, preventing you from pulling away, “You’re okay, shh, just breathe.”

“I c-can’t,” Your hand falls to your chest, taking in a pathetic breath, your head spinning. Your eyes begin to fill with tears as you panic and Austin shakes his head gently, inching closer to you in the back seat.

“Yes you can,” He assures, voice gentle, smooth like honey, “Look at me, you’re okay. Take a slow breath, try and hold it in your lungs.”

Your eyes seek out Austin’s gaze, calm and collected, and somehow that helps you do exactly as he asks. You draw a deep breath in your lungs, hold it, and then let it out. It’s shaky at first but it does the trick, the next breath easier than the last.

“There you go,” He whispers, bringing his hand up to stroke through your hair, settling along your neck as you calm down.

You sniffle, running your fingers along the underside of your one eye, trying so carefully not to mess up any makeup even though you feel like a splotched mess. Shaking your head, you allow Austin’s hand to slip around the back of your neck and pull you into his chest. You feel relief flood through your system, your eyes closing as you rest against him, face tucked into his neck.

He strokes a hand up and down your back, letting you take some time to breathe easier for a few minutes before,

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were feelin’ uncomfortable?”

You shake your head, pulling back just a bit to look at him. You can’t imagine how much of a mess you must look like now, all of Penny’s work gone to waste. “Because I was bein’ ridiculous.”

Austin shakes his head, lacing your fingers with his, “Don’t do that,” He says gently, “Your feelings are not ridiculous.”

You sniffle again, glancing down at the silver accent jewelry he has on, the cool metal of his rings pressing against your skin. “I just—I’ve been to events with you before, I don’t understand why this one has me so wigged out.”

Austin leans his shoulder against the backseat, glancing out the back window at the event down the street. Flashes of cameras, the roar of the crowd, the brightness of the lights. He rubs his thumb along the back of your hand for a few moments,

“I understand more than anyone how overwhelming it can be, there’s no shame in that.” He offers you a soft smile, picking your hand up and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “There’s no timeline on this thing, you can take as much or as little as you need.”

His words plant seeds of comfort in your chest and it does make you feel better to know where his head is at with this whole thing. There’s a slight bit of foolishness heating the back of your neck because…a lot of this probably could have been avoided if you just would have talked to him in the first place. You replay his words a few times over in your mind and he’s right. There’s no blueprint to this thing, you gotta figure it out for yourself.

And what better way to do it than with Austin by your side?

Giving him a genuine smile, you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you.”

Austin smiles back, squeezing your hand in his before motioning towards the event with a slight head nod, “Want to try again?”

And you know if you asked, you could skip this event with Austin altogether. But that’s the last thing you want to do. So you draw a soft breath into your chest and nod, pulling out a small compact to check your makeup, wipe away any smudges, and reapply a bit of lipstick. Turning in your seat, you open the SUV door and climb out, meeting Austin halfway.

He takes your hand into his again, easily lacing your fingers. Austin had once told you—the only opinions that matter are here in this trailer. You and me.

With that thought settling warmly in your chest, you straighten your shoulders, squeeze Austin’s hand and walk towards the red-carpet.  

--

All in all, the event itself goes pretty smoothly. You don’t let yourself worry about how you're perceived by others, about what people might think about your relationship with Austin, whether they might ‘speculate’ about where you belong, where you fit. But it's right there, right next to Austin, your hands joined together as you walk down the carpet towards the event.

There's pausing every so often for photographs and interviews, but Austin always makes sure to include you. You hope he understands that it's not necessary, that you understand that you're still dipping your toes into this world, that Austin's place is a bit more etched out. After photos of him are taken, he opens his arm out towards you, inviting you to stand right next to him. When questions are thrown his way, he draws you into talking, or brings up the script you're writing.

Penny was right, he is proud of you—you can see it as plain as day on his face, the way his eyes kinda light up when you speak. It means more to you than you can put into words.

The event itself is fun—you mingle, have drinks, meet people in the industry that aren't just interested in you being Austin's girlfriend. You’re pleasantly surprised and feel a warm glow about the entire night wrap around you as you leave with Austin after a few hours. He shrugs off his suit jacket, placing it over your shoulders as he takes a look down the carpet for his usual driver.

There's a few lingering paps, getting photographs and attempting to ask questions about where you’re going for the night, if there's any other after parties that you’re interested in going to. You kinda let out a soft laugh because—you're interested in going home, maybe grabbing a large pizza and a bottle of wine.

Austin shares a look with you, giving you a smile—he knows you well.

You've learned, for the most part, that paps keep their distance while asking questions and taking photos but you also know that there's a select few that don't care about personal space. They want that one shot, that one question that'll set them apart from others, and unfortunately you can feel someone come up from behind you as you and Austin walk towards the curb to cross the street to where the SUV is parked.

It's a bad combination of not enough space and you looking over your shoulder instead of where you're stepping and you misjudge the curb, twisting your ankle. A sharp noise leaves your lips and you grab onto Austin's arm to steady yourself so you don't hit the pavement. And you think it'd be enough for the pap to back off but he keeps coming, shoving the camera in your face, reaching out his hand to...help maybe? You're not sure. Either way, Austin isn't having it.

"Don't touch her," He puts an arm out to create a barrier between you and the pap.

"Was an accident Austin," The pap replies, lowering his camera. You frown, lifting your ankle to briefly rub at the bone before putting your foot back on the ground again. Not terrible, you can walk on it.

"I don't care if it was an accident or not, you need to put some distance between yourself and my girlfriend, man. There's a certain respect that goes a long way."

You gently squeeze onto his forearm to assure him it's fine, but the pap at least seems to understand that, nodding before he backs up. Austin helps you cross the street, opening the door for you to get in, a breath of relief leaving your lips as the SUV pulls out into traffic and you head back home.

--

You sigh gently from the corner of your couch, in your pjs, with fuzzy socks absolutely needed. Your ankle is propped up on a small pillow, Austin coming over and shaking an ice pack before wrapping it in a dish towel. He gently lifts the pillow and slides underneath so that he’s sitting next to you, your ankle on his lap.

“Think it’ll need amputated or are you gonna make it?” He teases, the warm palm of his hand resting along your leg as he gently positions the ice pack.

A short laugh leaves your lips, “Are you calling me dramatic?” You crinkle your nose at him but you’re smiling, “I’m not the one who was yelling at the pap.”

Austin rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair. He’s got these large curls near his forehead today—literally unfair how beautiful he is. “Yeah, well, should be no surprise at this point that I’m protective of you.”

Giving your boyfriend a soft smile, something warm blooming in your chest, you reposition yourself to lean over and plant a kiss on his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. Austin hums lightly, turning chin to rest his lips along your forehead, a ghost of a kiss too.

Despite how the day started out, the nerves threatening to spill over, and now the swollen ankle—not a bad way to end the night. You certainly wouldn’t trade it for anything else. This, after all, is exactly where you fit. Right against Austin, perfectly.

[tgmsunmontue]

More than movie magic... 17/24

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN

Chapter 16 is pretty much the only explicit chapter (so far), so you can skip it if you like, but it's not explicit by my standards, and it's very soft/tender.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

              There’s an annoying buzz and he knows it’s not his alarm, because he very carefully ensured that all four of them were turned off last night before going to the barn and meeting Bradley. It’s not stopping and he wonders if maybe Bradley has an alarm set, but Bradley’s glaring at the ground, specifically the pair of pants holding the phone that’s vibrating and he groans. They’re his pants, so it’s likely his phone ringing.

              “I just want to ignore it,” Jake mutters, letting his head thump back onto the pillow.

              “At least get it and turn it off. It’s not even seven,” Bradley says, pushing him slightly, but still kissing his shoulder and it’s clearly a promise for something if he hurries back to bed and he rolls out, reaches for his hastily discarded jeans and pulls out his phone. The front screen is lit up with the image of Karina and if she’s calling this early it’s potentially not a good thing.

              Fuck.

              “Sorry, it’s my PR manager. I better take this.”

              “You want me to go?”

              “No. No, not at all,” Jake says, giving him a quick kiss before sitting on the edge of the bed and Bradley rests his hand on his thigh, fingers running through the fine sprinkling of hair, and it wavers between ticklish and turning him on and he has to ignore it either way, thumbs over to answer the call.

              “Hello? Karina?”

              “Yeah. Hi. Morning Jake, sorry for the early call, but I left it as late as I could. Would have called earlier, but well, was trying to figure out how far the photos had spread.”

              “Photos?” Jake asks, because there aren’t any photos he can think of that would make Karina need to call him so early, and she’s in California, it’s even earlier there.

              “Yes Jake. Photos. You know, you’re meant to be one of my easy clients.”

              “What are you talking about?”

              “Photos got leaked of you dancing and kissing a guy. Now –”

              “Not just a guy. My boyfriend,” Jake says, turning to Bradley to ask the silent question with his eyebrows. The smile he gets back is all the answer he needs. “It’s fine.”

              “Oh. You couldn’t have given me a heads up?”

              “It’s like… two days old? Three I guess?” Jake asks, rubbing his eyes before dropping his hand to cover Bradley’s one, although he turns it and links their fingers together. The reassuring touch makes the tension melt out of him before it even has time to build, Bradley shifts and wraps his arms around him, legs also stretching to be either side of him and he lets himself lean back into his solid warmth.

              “Oh great. Then I’ll go for the whole invasion of privacy thing –”

              “No. No… you don’t need to do that either. My entire family were there. It was probably one of them that took photos and posted it to their Insta account or something. Just. Confirm I’m in a new relationship with someone and I’d like people to respect our privacy going forward.”

              “Okay. I can do that. Do I get a name?”

              “I don’t want his name coming out until he says it’s okay.”

              “Of course.”

              “It’s Bradley Bradshaw.”

              “Oh.”

              He’s not sure how to interpret that single word, but then she’s telling him she’ll handle it and hanging up on him and okay, so today is going to be a shitshow for her, but he’s far away from it and can probably ignore everything for a few days. He twists his head to try and meet Bradley’s eye.

              “I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to get caught up in all this.”

              “Were you planning on me being a secret?”

              Jake frowns.

              “You think I dance with people like I danced with you in the hope that it’ll stay a secret?”

              “You think I let famous people dance with me like that with the expectation that it will be a secret?”

              “Yeah. Okay. Point taken. But there’s a difference between wanting to protect you from media scrutiny and keeping it a secret. You’ve met my parents. Everyone here probably thinks we’re sleeping together…”

              “We are sleeping together,” Bradley states.

              “They might think it’s only sex.”

              “Well, then they’d be wrong. Jake… they’re going to dig shit up on me. I was a child actor, my parents both died when I was young. However I was raised by two people who guarded my privacy like hawks…”

              “Two people?” Jakes asks, doing a double take.

              “Yeah. Pete and his partner…”

              “Pete Mitchell has a partner?”

              “Yep.”

              “That private huh?”

              “Yep. You’ll meet them soon enough…” Jake isn’t an idiot, knows Bradley is being deliberately vague with the pronouns, although they could just prefer those pronouns of course.

              “Jake. I knew what I was signing up for. Media circus and all. If it bothered me that much I would have said something, or simply stayed away from you. But I’m right here. And I’ve got no plans on going anywhere.”

              Something uncurls inside him, because knowing that upfront is a relief, although he knows Bradley could change his mind, or simply get over it, being the center of said media circus.

              “Also, while we’re having this conversation, they’ll dig up my net worth and all the people saying I’m a gold digger will have to shut up.”

              Jake twists further around to stare at him, because that’s surprising. Bradley just grins, presses a kiss to his shoulder and Jake keeps twisting, pushing back until Bradley is lying on the bed and he straddles him, places his hands on his shoulders and Bradley just looks up at him, smug and arrogant like he knows what he just said is going to annoy Jake and he’s done it on purpose.

              “You’re kind of an asshole.”

              “I grew up in Hollywood, when you think about that, then it’s a miracle I’m as normal as I am.”

              “Yeah, I guess you’re right. What is your net worth?”

              “I don’t know. Probably more than yours.”

              “Really now? You don’t know?”

              “Meh. I don’t care. But I’ve been around a lot longer than you, and I’ve had people managing my money very carefully for longer than you’ve been in the business.”

              “But you work…” Jake says.

              “So do you. I work because I love my job. Not because I have to. It’s why I can afford to be picky about the jobs we take.”

              “You took this one.”

              “Well. Yeah.”

              They just stare at each other for a few beats and Bradley shrugs and Jake lets out a pleased laugh and sprawls over him, kissing him and feeling like everything will be okay.

              “I’m not going to be reading the press okay? Let alone believing any of it or letting it bother me. If I have any issues with anything I’ll raise them directly with you okay?”

              “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

…           …           …

              He has to leave Jake, there are no spare clothes and his shirt is definitely not fit for wearing, so he’s going to have to walk back to the bunkhouse shirtless, which is definitely not ideal but he refuses to be embarrassed. Of course, when Rueben lets out an ear-splitting wolf whistle, drawing attention he has no choice but to flip him the finger, but Jake has people. Well. His mom. She’s bringing him a change of clothes, and Bradley might like Aunty Kaye but he is not hanging around naked in bed. He’s also not accepting the offer for her to bring him clothes either, no matter how kindly the offer was made. Especially with how Jake’s apparently sensitive all over and it looks like Bradley left no stone unturned last night. Or this morning.

              It’s still early, and while he’d have very much liked to spend the day in bed with Jake, it’s still a workday, the filming schedule tight and he’s meant to be on set in thirty minutes to oversee Rueben, Natasha and Jake carry out some corralling. He showers quickly, scrubbing himself clean and steps out to his phone ringing, toweling himself dry with one hand as he accepts the call.

              “Hey Mav.”

              “Bradley. Hi. You okay?”

              “Yeah. Of course,” he says, pulling his underwear on with one hand, swapping over hands holding the phone so he can wiggle a little.

              “Uh. Really?”

              “Yeah. Really. Why?”

              “Oh. Just. There are some photos circulating. Have you seen them?”

              “Oh. You’re ringing about those. It’s fine. I don’t need to see the photos. I was there. It’s fine. Nothing we’re hiding.”

              “Oh.”

              “Yeah. Oh indeed,” Bradley says, and he knows Mav can probably hear his smile.

              “He… he doesn’t drive you absolutely mad?”

              Bradley laughs, because Jake doesn’t drive him mad at all, drives him to distraction maybe, but not mad. He puts the phone on speaker and sets it down, continuing to get dressed.

              “Nope. Well, not in the way you’re thinking. He’s… God Pete. He’s sweet and caring and such a momma’s boy. His mom is his best friend she gives him absolute hell and he lets her.”

              “Oh. Bradley. You are gone gone…”

              “Yeah. I am gone gone,” Bradley agrees, because there is no point in denying it, and he’s pretty sure Jake already knows, and if he takes away Pete’s ammunition now he has less material to wind Bradley up with.

              “Huh. Okay then. I’ll tell Ice to cancel the job.”

              Bradley rolls his eyes.

              “Don’t say shit like that. He’s not in the mob. Tell him to reign in whatever crazy plan you’re concocting. I’m fine.”

              “Uh… well…”

              “Mav? What crazy plan are you concocting?” Bradley asks, letting out a sigh.

              “Nothing. Really. Just. We thought we’d come out for a visit.”

              “No! I’m working. You don’t need to come and visit. I’m fine.”

              “Okay. Well. How do you know it’s not a one-night stand?”

              “Because we communicate Mav. Like adults. I know it’s a foreign concept for you.”

              “Hey!”

              “Also, pretty sure Jake doesn’t make his one-night stands have dinner with his parents the day before. And I met so many of his family last night I lost track…”

              “But I haven’t met him!”

              “Maverick! Pete. You worked with him for months!”

              “I mean I haven’t met him as your… boyfriend.”

              “You’re on a plane aren’t you,” Bradley states, realizing the truth of it as he says it and okay, at least Jake might feel like Bradley’s getting the better side of the bargain once he realizes how unhinged Mav can be when it comes to him. “Tell me you’re alone.”

              “Well, there’s the pilot,” Mav says, totally deflecting and Bradley knows.

              “Mav.”

              “Well, you know how protective he gets!”

              Fuckity fuck fuck Bradley thinks internally, because it’s one thing to have Pete Mitchell as a father figure, it’s totally another to have Tom Kazansky. And he’s already alluded to Jake that Pete has a partner, although he has no idea what phase of their relationship they might currently be in, with it waxing and waning as sure as the moon, but always there even when they weren’t together. And they’re both enroute here. Because of fucking course they are, although he knows Tom is only really coming to keep Maverick inline.

EIGHTEEN