#vinyl avengers show

[thebunnyslibrary]

Bucky Barnes Valentine's Drabble ❤️

wc. ~1500

pairing. Bucky x Curvy!Reader

summary. Reader is alone and in the gym on Valentine's Day of all days. Until the man of her dreams Bucky Barnes wanders in and offers to be her sparring partner...

an. I had a last minute idea for a drabble......that then morphed into TWO ideas!! Bucky is first up and I have another idea with Loki that I should hope to finish in the next couple of days. (PS I haven't forgotten my last Ficmas fic. I just kind of hit a wall and i'm still struggling to get over it. Maybe this will help.)

Also big shout out to @chasingmidnights for helping inspire me today ❤️

Going to the gym wasn't exactly your first choice of things to start your Valentine’s Day; but here you were. You preferred to come early early, still dark out early, for two reasons. First for being a bit of an early riser yourself. Usually not as early as you were today, but enough that in the summer, you were able to hear the birds sing at breakfast.

 The second that there were less people to stare at you. Confident as you were in your curves, the world had not gotten used to the idea of fat people working out in gyms NOT to lose weight add you’d rather not start today, of all days, that way. Valentine’s Day. You had no real hatred for it. But you did get a little jealous sometimes when you walked in the office and saw so many other desks littered with flowers and candies. But you couldn’t recall a time someone had sent you so much as a single rose.

This year, you’d decided to take the self-care route. You’d ordered takeout last night and tucked it away in the fridge for tonight, along with a slice of your favorite cheesecake from the old-fashioned delicatessen down the street (family owned since the days Tony’s father running Stark Industries). You’d chosen not to weep for your singleness but instead use it as a night of rest and recovery. A good meal, a nice book and your favorite vinyl record along with a long soak in the tub were you self-loves tonight…and your now charging vibrator would take care of the other kind too.  You just had to make it through the day.

                Even though you were a desk jockey, there was a physical exam all SWORD agents had to pass. You weren't extraordinarily physically gifted, but you could kick but in Just Dance when you wanted to. Unfortunately, the virtual reality sparring simulator at the Avengers compound certainly wasn't as fun as silly dance moves to 70s music in your apartment You knew sparring with the examiner wouldn't be like this, but you had no one else to spar with. And that was where Bucky found you.  

"If you'd like I can practice with you, agent." He’d startled you as you quickly removed the virtual reality headset and turned to see him standing there. It was amazing how well he fit into modern clothing.  He was wearing a sleeveless shirt, showing off this metal arm. You’d never seen his arm this closes and you were in awe of the Wakandan craftsmanship. You'd long admired the former assassin, but never thought in a million years he'd notice you. He was the dark contrast to Captain America, the golden boy. Both were incredibly handsome but there was something mysterious about him that drew you to him. You could easily see why he’d been a lady’s man in the 40s. And you were just a desk clerk. You couldn’t compete with the women, all of whom looked like super models, that threw themselves at him.

You looked around, not seeing any one else and turned back to him, standing there and looking at you, a genuine smile on his face. You nodded and quietly responded.

"Uh...yeah. that would be nice."

Sparring with Bucky gave you a much better experience. Being able to actually fight someone who was there instead of just a simulation felt great. Even though you were sure Bucky was taking it easy on you, you were a lot stronger than you thought, not to mention quick. You were able to duck and dodge and lay a few quick jabs to his chest. And that was nothing compared to how confident you felt, and how good Bucky looked. He seemed to be enjoying himself, a smile never leaving his face. Once or twice you’d stared a little too long and he’d gotten a few jabs in, but you recovered quickly. 

 At one point he had his arms around you in a hold and you were amazed how warm he felt. His chest brushed against your back and you let out a little gasp that you prayed to God he didn't hear. But you saw the smirk play at his lips.

"Sorry, doll. I run a little warm cause of the serum."

"It's alright.” You said, sheepishly. “Your touch actually feels nice." You bit your cheek as you realized how wrong that probably was to say. To your surprise, Bucky didn’t mention it.

"Well the best way to pass a test is with the proper tools. Not with Tony’s toys." He said, rolling his eyes. “And your touch feels good too.” You raised your eyebrows in surprise before he continued “You’ve got a good strong grip.” He shot you a wink and you couldn’t begin to process what he meant when the sparring resumed. Bucky and you trained for a good hour or so and by the end you felt much better about the exam.

Bucky also took the time to show you a few new self-defense maneuvers. He was demonstrating a quick way to hit someone in the gut before raising your hands up to hit them in the face.

"It's one fluid movement." He guided your arms. By now you were CERTAINLY used to his touch. Especially in moments like now where you when his arms where wrapped around you to guide you.  You'd never felt more safe and secure.

"Like this...." You jabbed your elbows backwards before swinging are your arms up, hands closed together and you FELT the contact against Bucky’s nose as you'd executed the move perfectly. But your pride turned to panic as Bucky grunted, then started a fit of coughing as you realized what you’d done.

"Holy shit. Oh my God. I mean... oh shit. Uhm. Captain America is gunna kill me.... Sargent Barnes uhm...sir...?? Are you okay??"

Bucky coughed a few more times, before his breathing finally shallowed. His hand was clutch his nose, now paying attention to that and feeling to make sure it wasn't broken before he finally spoke to you.

“Well doll, I certainly didn't expect you to knock the wind out of me twice in one day. But I'll take it. And you can just call me Bucky.” He said and you felt like you were going to faint. Had he just said what you thought he did?

"Wha...what...? Twice?" you said in disbelief.

“Sure doll.” Bucky admitted. “First was when I walked In here today.  Though I have to say you've done it a few times before that" he admitted. “Like the other day when I dropped off that paperwork and you looked so beautiful in your blue dress.” He bit his lip, recalling the memory.

“You're not. You're not serious, right?” He couldn’t be.

“Yeah. Uhm. I am doll. I’ve been wanting to say something for a while but I was worried you were scared of me.”  Your heart twinged a little and you gently placed your hand on his mechanical arm.

“Not at all Bucky. In fact, I’ve liked you for some time as I just…didn’t think you’d notice me. You could have any girl you want and I’m just a desk clerk.” You said. “Not a supermodel or a superhero. Or anything special."

“Hey listen to me. You’re absolutely gorgeous doll. Why do you think I’m the one that’s always bringing you everyone else’s paperwork.” You thought for a moment before you realized it was true. You’d never noticed it but while you often saw other Avengers dropping off work to someone else, whenever something had to come to you, Bucky was always the one to bring it. “It’s the highlight of my day when I get to see you. His words, full of honesty and admiration made your heart swell. He placed his flesh hand over yours and squeezed it tight. You gazed into the crystal blue pools of his eyes as he broke the moment.

“Besides everyone knows it’s desk clerks that makes the world go round. Trust me, My ma worked as a secretary for a while. The stories she could’ve told.” You both laughed at that and you loved his laugh. You weren’t sure you’d ever heard him really laugh before. It wasn’t as deep or boisterous as Thor’s. Rather it pattered and reminded you of summer’s rain on a wooden roof. And you loved the way his shoulders shook, even if it wasn’t that big of a laugh.

“Listen, doll, I know it's super last minute...and if you didn’t already have plans tonight… I We'll never get a reservation anywhere. But you could come back to my place and I could cook you dinner? Maybe we can watch a movie?” Bucky asked. You smiled and happily replied.

                “It's a date.”

[kamaluhkhan]

i'm not wanting anything (but your loving, your body, and a little bit of your brain)

pairing: shuri x fem!reader

summary: being an avenger doesn't leave you much time for college life (let alone a girlfriend), you and gwen stacy accidentally show up to a halloween party in a couple's costume, and shuri is determined to prove who you really belong to.

warnings: allusions to PTSD and death, mentions of alcohol and partying and smut - fingering (both shuri and reader receiving), oral (shuri receiving), thigh riding....

song inspo: "thats what i want" by lil nas x

a/n: hello!! this is my first time posting a fic on tumblr and im so nervous but very excited because shuri has been on my mind for the longest time. reader is an avenger in her senior year of college and best friends/roommates with peter parker. this is set before black panther: wakanda forever, and after endgame but some things are different (the blip was only a year, steve and tony both died in the final battle with thanos). anyways, please enjoy!!

before the blip, you had the whole work/life/superhero thing (mostly) down to a science. now, everyone was still processing the absolute mindfuck of half the universe being snapped away by a mad titan, only to be returned by a group of heroes one year later.

in the midst of it all, the girl you'd travelled across time and space for somehow ended up low on your priority list, but you found comfort in the fact that it was mutual. you were busy in new york, with college (senior year was kicking your ass) and avengers work (trying to keep the city safe with half the team gone and the others scattered across the universe was exhausting) and your internship at oscorp (basically unpaid labor, but you needed the credit to graduate). shuri spent most of her time catching up on what she missed, working on scientific and technological developments in wakanda whenever she wasn't travelling with her brother around the world for united nations or wakandan outreach reasons. there was only so much calling or texting that can be done before your relationship started to feel like an afterthought.

tonight was supposed to change all that.

harry osborn was throwing a 'halloween in january' party. shuri was in new york with t'challa, but she'd promise to keep this night free, and you promised the same. you were looking forward to being surrounded by a crowd of drunk 20-somethings, taking shots, dancing to music that was way too loud, feeling shuri next to you.

normally, you didn't dress up for the holiday - wearing a supersuit all the time kinda takes the novelty away from wearing a costume - but if halloween could be in january, you decided tonight would be the exception. you'd decided on a red lace bralette with a matching vinyl skirt, fishnet stockings, and a headband with devil horns. you didn't normally show this much skin. it was supposed to be a surprise for shuri, and the hope was that the outfit would drive her crazy. you had finished decorating your face with glitter and were about to swipe on some red liquid lipstick when the text signal rang from your phone.

shuri ♡

i won't be able to come to the party tonight - brother wants me to join him at an ambassador's dinner. i'm sorry. love you.

you knew that there had been one too many times when you had done the same to her - needing to attend to your avengers duties instead of spend time together, cancelling at the last minute on plans you were both looking forward to. you would see each other next time one of you happened to be in the same place, which started to feel less and less likely. that was just the way things were. you were fine with it. totally fine.

after you send shuri a quick no worries! i understand, you finish applying your makeup, taking one last look in the mirror, ready to party even if you didn't have your girlfriend by your side.

harry osborn was shirtless, wearing only a red and gold tie, jeans, and round glasses. you were pretty sure peter choked on spit when harry walked up to you, chest sparkling with a mixture of sweat and glitter under the disco lights.

"magic harry potter, right?" you guessed, glimpsing the lazily drawn lightning bolt on his forehead.

harry grinned and did a little spin to show off his costume. "hogwarts student by day, stripper by night," he said, voice strong over the pounding music. he gestured to your outfit, eyes lingering at the top of your bralette. "you look amazing. and you...." he looked peter up and down. "damn."

peter was wearing an earlier model of his spiderman suit. you'd told him it might not be the best costume to wear when he was still very much clinging to the whole secret identity thing. he didn't particularly care, though: apparently, he overheard a certain heir to the oscorp dynasty gush about how hot spiderman must be under the suit, and how much hotter it would be to be tied up by his webs. needless to say, by the way harry looks equally entranced by peter as peter is by him, your guess is that his eavesdropping paid off.

"come on parker, let's dance." harry didn't wait for an answer, only pushed through the crowd of people. he turned around and locked eyes with peter, a flirtatious grin on his face. you spotted a bar in the corner, and bartenders dressed up as various halloween creatures who walked around with trays of bright neon shot glasses. when a skeleton offered you some, you grabbed a few before they moved on to a trio dressed up as the powerpuff girls.

"i don't have to go if -"

"go," you interrupted, handing peter one of the drinks in your hand. "one of us should get laid tonight."

even though the flashing multicolored lights made it difficult to know for sure, you guessed that peter was blushing. you clinked glasses, downed the shots. peter kissed your cheek.

"love you!" he said before disappearing into the crowd to find his wizard with shining abs.

you smiled, and made your way to the bar. next to the bar was a table of halloween themed snacks - candy, sugar cookies in the shape of ghosts, orange cupcakes and more - so you popped a few pieces of candy corn into your mouth before ordering a drink. you took another jello shot while you waited, this one sweeter than the last and neon green. looking around the room, you were impress by how decorated it was: orange string lights, pumpkins, ghosts and bats floating from the ceiling. you wouldn't have guessed that harry osborn would be into this kind of thing, assuming that he was a trust fund kid used to parties at yacht clubs, but as "monster mash" played through the speakers, you had to admit you were pleasantly surprised.

you scanned the room to see if there was anyone you recognized. you spotted a mermaid making out with a pink power ranger; a group of fairies doing body shots; someone wearing a zombie captain america costume (steve rogers version) and another in a zombie iron man suit, both of which felt more than a little insensitive. it hadn't even been a year since they were gone, and you didn't need the reminder. you glared at the zombies from across the room, and the captain america actually noticed you, offering some sort of awkward salute, like you were a war hero. somehow, that made everything worse and the room suddenly felt suffocating and you just needed some air -

that was how you found yourself on the balcony, overlooking the manhattan skyline. there were heaters outside, thank the gods, so it wasn't too cold. you could still hear the chaos of the party from behind the glass doors, but other than that you were alone - or so you thought.

"you look hot."

you turn around to see gwen stacy in all her glory, wearing an almost perfect replica of claire danes' angel costume from romeo + juliet. the two of you were co-workers more than friends, both working at oscorp along with peter and harry, but it was comforting to see a familiar face.

"and you look amazing," you complimented.

"here, you looked like you might need this." she handed you a sugar cookie decorated with orange frosting and black sprinkles, which you gratefully accepted.

you split it in half, handing one back to gwen before devouring your own. you washed it down with the neon orange drink you'd ordered earlier, before offering a sip to gwen.

"god, is that --"

"vodka and orange crush," you explained. "apparently harry osborn likes to color coordinate his parties like he does his lab notes. at least this makes sense."

gwen laughed, angelic and carefree. "you wanna go back inside? i've always wanted to dance with the devil, and i was hoping this would be my lucky night."

you'd been around long enough to know that gwen was flirting with you and even if you were totally, completely committed and in love with a certain wakandan, you were feeling a little tipsy (probably more from sugar than alcohol, it was hard to tell), and it felt nice to be complimented, to be noticed, to be touched. so, you let gwen lead you to the dance floor, your bodies close together. you let her flirt with you, and maybe flirted a bit with her back. you let people compliment your accidental couples' costume. you weren't sure how long passed, after a while you heard your name being called over the sound of "somebody's watching me" by rockwell. ironic, you knew.

instantly, you recognized the familiar accent and lilt of her voice. you turned around to see shuri, wearing a black satin suit lined with dark burgundy, the shirt underneath long gone, revealing only a black lace bra and a gold body chain and gods she looked so fucking hot right now, it felt like your entire body was on vibrate.

"shuri!" you exclaimed, voice an octave higher than usual, a little thrown off by her sudden appearance. "um, this is gwen."

"hey! it's nice to meet you. i like your vampire costume --"

"i'm not a vampire," shuri interrupted gwen before dragging you to the bar. she leaned against the counter and ordered a whiskey, draining it in one sip before practically slamming the glass back down. "what in bast's name was that?"

"we were dancing," you explained.

"it looked like the two of you were about to rip each other's clothes off," shuri snapped. "i didn't realize that was how you danced in america."

you bristled. shuri was the one who ditched you tonight, and now she was mad at you? "it's a party. we were just having fun. you're overreacting!"

"i showed up to surprise you, but maybe you'd rather go to bed with that angel over there."

"that's bullshit."

"no, what's bullshit is me walking in on my girlfriend grinding on someone else while wearing this outfit." her eyes grazed your body dangerously, and from the clench in her jaw you could tell she had to restrain herself. "so don't pretend you need me here. it seems like there are other girls you'd like to fuck instead."

shuri ordered another drink, but before it arrived, you dragged her to the nearest bathroom. one of the zombie avengers from before - iron man - was about to enter, but you beat them to it, effectively closing and locking to door behind you. you ignored the subsequent banging on the door. harry's apartment was huge; you were sure there was at least one more bathroom, and you couldn't bring yourself to care about whether that asshole got a uti or not.

while shuri remained standing, pacing back and forth on the marble floor, you leaned against the counter, watching her.

"what the fuck was that?" you asked, arms crossed over your chest. "you walk in here accusing me of what - wanting to cheat on you? do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"you have to admit, it couldn't have looked good from where i was standing. you grinding on some blonde girl, wearing a couple's costume. don't think i didn't notice that, too."

your cheeks felt warm, knowing that shuri might have a point. "in my defense, the costumes were a coincidence and the grinding.... maybe that was less of a coincidence," you admit. you walk over to shuri, placing your hands on her cheeks to get her to finally look you in the eye. she gently pushed you away, looking down instead, but stayed in front of you. "look, i get that it probably looked like --"

"like you wanted to have gwen's babies."

you took shuri's humor as a good sign, continuing with a soft smile on your face. "please know that i'm 110% committed to you. i would never want to do anything to make you think otherwise. but...i'm not going to apologize for dancing, and having fun, because shit's been....fuck, shuri, it's been hard."

"you don't think it's been hard for me, too?" she scoffed, finally meeting your gaze. "i was gone for an entire year, and the world just moved on, and - and maybe it doesn't need me anymore. maybe you don't -- " she let the words get caught in your throat, and she broke away from your gaze once more.

oh.

what you thought was a burst of jealousy was actually...something else.

"hey." you take her chin between your thumb and your index finger, turning her head to look at you. "hey. i don't care how many dates either of us miss, how many oceans or time zones separate us, you are my person and i'm yours, okay? i will always need you." you moved to drape your arms around her neck, and she instinctively grabbed your hips, hands dangerously close to your ass. your bare torsos touched, the cool metal of her body chain brushing against you and sending shivers throughout your body.

you could tell that her eyes were slightly glazed over, and wondered if she was about to cry. your heart ached as you placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, as if to let her know: i'm here, and i'm not going anywhere anytime soon.

she didn't say anything, but instead closed the gap between your lips. it was such a rush kissing her, after all this time. her lips tasted like whiskey, mixed with sugar from the candy you'd been eating. when you pulled apart you felt dizzy.

"shuri." you whimpered. she lowered her head to the side of your jaw, placing a kiss just below your ear before whispering:

"tell me what you need from me."

"so much," you answered. "i need you on top of me, under me, inside me."

shuri's lips ghosted yours, the hint of a smirk.

"come on, sithandwa," she taunted, letting her xhosa slip out. "you can do better than that. be specific."

"fuck," you groaned. you found yourself being pushed back against the counter, the marble cold against your bare skin. shuri didn't stop kissing you everywhere, her hands exploring your body. "i - i don't know. something, anything, everything. any time i try to get off i need to think of you, but it's never as good as the real thing. and now that you're here now...." your words trailed off into a sigh. right now, you couldn't make a reasonable argument, let alone a logical sentence, even if you tried. you just wanted to relish in the moment - to enjoy her.

you throw your head back when you feel her thumbs brush underneath the vinyl of your skirt, the slight pressure reminding you that she was here, with you, for you.

"fine, i'll decide," she said sternly. she gestured for you to sit on the counter, and you did just that. shuri adjusted her body between your thighs, spreading them wider. she shuddered seeing the red lace thong you wore, the lack of fabric covering you, and met your gaze once again, eyes darker than before. "you don't get to come if you don't stay quiet. so be quiet for me, yeah?"

you bit your lip and nodded. anything, everything. she smirked, pushed the fabric of your panties aside, and sunk two of her fingers into you, knowing you were ready for her. even after weeks, months, apart, shuri could always read your body, know what you needed, how you needed it. the answer was simple, really; like you said, it was always her, her, her.

she kissed you, harsh and messy, tongue and teeth, swallowing your moans as her fingers brought you closer and closer to your release. shuri pulled your bottom lip with her teeth before moving to suck on your collarbone, your jaw, your neck. she bit down on your skin, right at your pulse point.

"i thought - i thought you weren't a vampire," you attempted a joke, but that was a mistake. you'd let a low groan tumble from your lips. another when she let her tongue soothe over the sting from her bite.

"i don't appreciate the attitude," shuri replied, her voice steady, but the corners of her mouth, slightly upturned, threatening to turn into a smile, gave her away. she was loving this. "and, i told you to be quiet."

she removed her fingers from your cunt and promptly shoved them past your red lips. you groaned again when she kissed you roughly, the taste of you dancing across your tongues.

"we'll try one more time to see if you can follow instructions. make me come, and maybe you can finish after."

she swapped your positions and unbuttoned her pants, pulling them off along with her briefs, as you got on your knees before her.

there was a joke here about the devil worshiping an angel, but you were too focused on her. her smell, gods, her taste - it was too overwhelming, and all you wanted was more. you'd spent your whole life on your knees for shuri if you could: worshiping her body, worshiping her.

you draped one of her legs over your shoulder, giving your tongue better access. shuri tugged on your hair slightly and you moaned, sending vibrations up her body.

"bast, that's it," she groaned. you added a finger, while your tongue worked her clit. "fuck. i missed you."

you brought her to the edge, stayed with her as she came. she probably expected you to get back on your feet right away, but you stayed, adding another finger and sucking her clit. she moaned your name.

you pulled away slightly. "one more, pretty girl," you promised. "can you do that for me?" she nodded furiously, and you went back to work.

when she came once more, you kissed her ankle before releasing her leg. shuri pulled you up to your feet, sucked the taste of her off your tongue.

"i missed you, too." you pull away, breathless, heart racing. "do i get to come now?"

shuri hummed. her thumb wiped the smudged lipstick below your lip. she studied you, admired you, like you were a fucking work of art that belonged in the met, like you hadn't just fucked her through two consecutive orgasms in the bathroom at a rich kid's upper east side apartment while michael jackson's "thriller" played outside the door.

"take off your thong." you did as instructed. she pulled you towards her, and lodged a leg in between yours. your cunt brushed against the skin of her thigh, back and forth as shuri guided your hips. "i can't believe you got all dressed up like this. absolutely sinful. and these...."

her hands moved to your thighs, nails digging into the flesh and dragging across your fishnets, effectively ripping them.

"shuri!" you protested, though it sounds like a moan.

"i'll buy you more. now, are you gonna come for me?"

the sound of her voice, the feeling of her skin against your heat, the smell of the two of you intertwining, it was too much. your orgasm crashed into you, and you were grateful that shuri held you through it. you kissed her once more before removing yourself from her grasp, smoothing down your skirt and looking around for your underwear.

"where are my...."

you looked over as shuri tucked your red thong into the inner pocket of her jacket.

"i'm guessing you'll buy me replacements for those, too."

she flashed you a shit eating grin before putting on her own underwear. she then pulled up her pants, not wiping your release from her thigh. the thought of her walking around, leg sticky with you, made your pussy clench.

the sound of someone banging on the door brought you out of your post-orgasm haze.

"holy fuck! hurry up!" they shouted.

"given your costume, i would say that was an unholy fuck," shuri joked, adjusting your headband for you. you nudged her playfully, rolling your eyes.

"how about we stay for a few songs, steal some cupcakes and drinks, and then head back to my place for round two?" shuri nodded.

"perfect."

before you opened the door, you shot her one last devilish grin. "oh. and this time, i'm in charge."

the next morning, shuri woke up to an empty bed and the smell of burnt cinnamon.

you were sitting on the small window bench in the corner of your room, a tangle of purple yarn on your lap and crochet needle in your hand. even though there was frost on the window, you only wore a pair of boxers printed with the word 'sunday' and cartoon suns, and an empire state university sweatshirt.

"sithandwa? the bed would be warmer with you in it."

you turned to look at her, snuggled under your brightly colored duvet, eyes half open.

"this should help."

you walked over and wrapped a purple scarf around her neck, sitting cross-legged in front of her. shuri sat up, but kept the duvet wrapped around her. there was still glitter decorating your face from last night, and shuri reached out to brush some away.

"you made this for me?" you nodded.

"rhodey taught me how. said it would help with...." you trailed off, not wanting to go into the details of your insomnia. "anyways, t'challa mentioned at our last team meeting that you're going to vienna after this. we went there once to take down a hydra base and gods, it was freezing."

shuri kissed you, pulling you into her blanket cocoon so that you were inside as well, straddling her waist. you broke apart, and she put her hands under your shirt. you shuddered at the sudden contact, her skin cold. her thumbs rubbed circles under your breasts.

"it gets pretty cold in new york, too, doesn't it?"

"yeah, but i can just make another one," you explained, letting your finger trace the details of her face, her sharp jawline. shuri took your hands in hers.

"no, i mean....i can still wear the scarf you made me when i stay in new york."

you brightened like one of those cartoon suns. shuri staying in new york for more than a day, more than a night, hasn't happened in so long. you yearned to wake up next to her regularly, kiss over coffee and bagels, take the subway together, show her the tourist sights you yourself haven't been to since you were a kid - the statue of liberty, coney island, the works.

you stopped your daydreaming there, not wanting to get too ahead of yourself. life is busy. plans change. people leave, for a little bit or forever. it happens.

"like for another day?" you asked, clearing your throat to subdue the excitement in your stomach.

shuri shook her head. you knew it would be too good to be true.

"like for me to move to new york. to live with you."

wait, what.

"shuri. wakanda's your home just as much as new york is mine. i know this long distance thing has been tough on us, but i would never ask you to leave your home, your family."

shuri said your name softly and gently brought her palms to your cheeks.

"you're not asking. i'm offering. the dinner i had to attend last night was to convince the UN to greenlight our wakandan outreach centre in new york," she explained. "if it goes through, my brother suggested that i be the one to lead it. on site."

"and that's what you want?"

"what i want to be wherever you are. i want to be part of your routine. i want to meet your friends, skip work and spend hours in bed together. i want to be here for you - for parties and movie nights and graduation."

at that word, you put your hand up. "i'm going to stop you right there before you send me into an existential crisis."

shuri grinned. "but yes to the rest of it?"

"yes. yes, of course." you pushed her onto the bed so that you were both lying down, facing each other, your legs tangled together. "so...when is this happening?"

"probably in a month, maybe a month and a half. there are still hands to shake, contracts to sign."

"bureaucracy," you sighed. shuri giggled, and your heart fluttered at the thought that you would get to hear that sound on a regular basis in person, not just through cellphone frequencies.

"i am, however, staying for a few more days while my brother takes care of things in vienna. so you're not getting rid of me just yet."

"now that is great news." you kissed her once, then twice.

suddenly, there was a knock on your door.

shuri readjusted your position so that the length of the duvet covered both of your bodies. "come in pete!" you said once she was done.

the door opened and peter parker's face came into view, along with a plate of those ready to bake cinnamon rolls that must have been fresh out of the oven.

"there's extra if you want," he offered.

"that'd be great, thanks." you gratefully accepted the plate, swiping some icing from the edge and licking it off your finger. "what's the special occasion?"

peter cleared his throat. "no special occasion."

you glanced the hickey on his collarbone. "oh, so harry stayed over last night and you wanted to make a good impression on him. breakfast in bed, domestic husband, sort of thing."

"that's not --"

"that's exactly it!" a voice from the kitchen interrupted.

"good morning, harry!" you replied, smiling tauntingly at peter.

"harry, i don't think we've met!" shuri added. "peter has told me so much about you...."

peter groaned and flipped you both off before shutting the door.

"thanks for the cinnamon rolls!" you shouted.

there was a pause before the door opened slightly. a curt, "you're welcome," was offered before it was closed once again.

you got up to put on a record as shuri devoured a cinnamon roll.

"you know, i'm really happy you're staying for a bit because i actually need your help with some things." you ripped off a piece covered in frosting and stuffed it in your mouth.

shuri raised her eyebrow, waiting for you to explain.

"my electric toothbrush has been weird - i can't figure out, for the life of me, what is wrong with it - and i've asked peter to fix it one too many times at this point," you continued, ticking off checkboxes in your head. "i wanted to talk to you about some potential upgrades for my suit that i would love your opinion on. oh, and i'm pretty sure i also broke my vibrator." you grinned sheepishly. "i didn't even bother to ask peter about that one because we don't need to be that close."

shuri stiffled a laugh, muffled by a mouthful of cinnamon and cream cheese frosting. she swallowed. "how do you even break a vibrator?"

"i don't know!" you exclaimed. "that's where you come in."

"baby." shuri wrapped her arms around your torso. "if i'm staying around for a while, you won't need a vibrator."

[shyphonics]

Salad Days Chapter 5: We Are The One

This chapter is certified 18+™ for smut and light mental health crisis (we've all been there... right?)

I'm sorry if I'm rusty lol. Also, I made a tag list! Let me know if you want in :) this is looking like it's gonna be pretty long.

one | two | three | four

It’s your turn for soundcheck now, and… Jesus, you’re actually nervous. It’s been forever since you’ve been nervous.

You’ve played The Strike every week for about a year now, slowly creeping your way from dead Monday shows, to decent Thursday shows, to electric weekend shows.

You’ve worked your ass off to move from the merch table spot in the dark, at the edge of the dance floor, to one of the spots under the lights and the AC unit.

You know every person here, at least by face, and they know you. Either from the band or the bar. Except for Rodrick and his friends, that is.

You’ve never headlined before, though, and something about your first time is making you shaky.

So, here you stand, face to face with yourself in the bathroom mirror. Jessica, your lead guitar, is against the wall, cool as can be in her vinyl pants. She blows out a long puff of smoke, and fluffs out her short, green hair with one hand.

“We’re gonna be fine. It’s like any other night.”

But it’s not like any other night, not to you.

Is it Rodrick? Are you trying to impress him? That’d be really fucking stupid. You don’t do what you do to impress people.

That, and you’re pretty sure he’d be impressed no matter what you do.

But…

You don't quite know what's happening to you, whether it's how good he’d looked on stage, or the feelings that overcame you when that douchebag sucker-punched him.

Maybe it's a combination of both.

On stage, he'd been sexy and self-assured. Playing those drums like it was nothing. Making your heart flutter with a wink and a smile, like you were a dumb lovestruck teenager at her first concert again.

After that guy had hit him… he got vulnerable. He'd looked so sad, defeated almost. Hurt, not just physically, but emotionally. It made you wonder if those two had a history. It made you want to latch onto him and make him all better.

It seems like Rodrick, whether he’s aware of it or not, knows just where to hit to take down your walls.

“We gotta go,” Maureen pops her head into the restroom.

You push your little emotional breakthrough back in and take a deep breath.

This isn't the time for that.

You climb the side steps, as you have a hundred times, and start fighting audio cables until everything looks right.

Pink cord goes from amp to overdrive pedal. Black cord goes from tuning pedal to bass.

Fuck. Is that even right? You don’t know anymore.

Low notes come from your amp, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Everyone else is all set up, and you look around. It’s time.

Soundcheck is quick. Too quick. You adjust your setlist with your foot, and stretch out your fingers.

Eddie pushes his glasses up and gives you a thumbs up.

You just gotta start, and then you’ll be fine.

“Hey fuckers!” Your voice comes out more powerful than you'd expected, “We’re The Shrieks!”

The crowd comes alive. Deep breaths.

The lights are up, the crowd is buzzing and you- wow. You're glowing. You look so confident and fucking cool, all lit up in gold stage lights.

Rodrick watches as you and your bandmates give each other a nod.

A note rings out. A second. A third. A fourth.

The song explodes, and Rodrick’s mouth falls open. You’re hopping, and shaking your hair out, really hyping yourself up.

Then you open your lips. Rodrick is enamored. No high school crush he ever had could compare to how he feels right now. He gives in to the movement of the crowd, and it feels like being in the ocean. Bodies all moving as one.

There’s a smile on his face that just won’t go away. He’s never been to a show quite like this.

He holds on to the front of the stage just to watch you, taking in the absolute power you’re giving off. Trying his best to read your lips and hear every word.

I am the one who brings you the future

I am the one who buries your past

A new species, I come from the ruins

I am the one that was made to last

We are not Jesus (Christ!)

Oh, no, we are not fascist (pigs!)

Oh, no we are not capitalist (industrialists!)

Oh, no, we are not communists

We are the one

We are the one

We are the one

We are the one

The party’s still going, even after everyone has shuffled out and the doors are locked. Mike has commandeered the sound booth and is playing “some shit from the good old days.”

You're up in the storage loft above the stage, wrapping up cables and boxing up mics. You close a tackle box full of neatly rolled cords and notice Rodrick down by the stage.

You sit and just watch him for a minute, trying to figure out if your bathroom mirror crisis was just pre-show jitters.

He looks like he's looking for you, craning his neck around and slowly spinning in place.

He's just such a dork.

You’re not sure if you can even be snarky with him anymore.

It's been a really long time since you had a crush on someone. Especially one like this. You're used to being in control, giving no more of yourself than you want to. For all you know, when you get down there, you'll be giggling like an idiot at his mercy.

Pull yourself together.

“I love this song,” you drop down from the storage loft, hopping off the stage, landing in front of Rodrick. Trying to play it cool.

He jumps when you appear, a smile spreading across his face.

“You were amazing.” He sighs.

“Back at you,” you restrain yourself from grinning.

You're still buzzing with adrenaline, and it spurs you on to try something. You step forward, and clasp your arms behind his neck.

His eyes widen, but after some hesitation, he brings his hands to your waist. The two of you begin to sway, a little uncoordinated, to the music. You look up into his eyes. He looks nervous, but a small smile is beginning to form on his face.

Your giddiness starts to fade away, and you feel a little more in control of yourself.

“Did you go to your prom?” You ask.

“Hell no,” Rodrick scoffs, “Did you?”

“I didn't even graduate,” you laugh, “so no. But it explains why we're kinda bad at this.”

“I don't think we're that bad,” He attempts to spin you. You both break out in a fit of giggles as your back hits his chest and you recenter.

“I wanna do that, like, every weekend forever.” He sighs.

“That's not a hard ask. I can show you some of the other venues when I'm free. You guys will be working the circuit in no time.” You look up at him.

Rodrick’s smile is so genuine. He looks completely content.

The world disappears around you as you get lost in the song, swaying and spinning, staring into each other's eyes. You've never been so glad to have taken a chance on someone.

“How's your lip?” You ask.

“It's okay,”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really.”

You hesitate, then lean upwards, testing the water.

He seems to be thinking the same thing, and he leans down to meet your lips.

The kiss is warm and familiar, all traces of awkwardness are gone. It feels like you know each other. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek and pulls away.

“So am I allowed to like you now?” His voice is lower than before. He holds you close to him, one arm tight across your lower back.

“You feel like you could pass a field sobriety test?” You smirk.

“Yeah?” Rodrick raises an eyebrow.

“Okay. You're allowed.”

He laughs, rolling his eyes, and leans in to kiss you again, but you both quickly turn to the sound of someone clearing their throat. It's one of his bandmates, the blonde one. He's avoiding looking at either of you.

“Hey, Rodrick, uh, you two…” He clears his throat again, “The other bands invited us out to eat, and we were gonna go… but it looks like you're busy.”

Rodrick blinks at you, “Are you gonna go?”

“Yeah, let's go. You should get some carbs in you. Soak up all that booze, or you're gonna have a bad morning.” You detach from him, and walk towards the back door.

Your car is parked right next to their van, and Rodrick looks like he's hesitating getting in with his friends. You roll your window down and raise your eyebrow at him.

“Do you… wanna ride with me?”

He looks surprised, “Can I?”

“Yeah, get in.” You lean over and pop the door open, butterflies swirling in your stomach.

He bounces into your passenger seat, beaming.

“You know where to go, right?” You shout into the van. Rodrick’s friends give you a thumbs up.

You roll the window up, and pull out of the parking lot.

Rodrick is drumming on his knees to a song playing in your car. You watch him out of the corner of your eye and smile a little. You think of the day you met him, all pent up energy and rock n roll, baby!

Big, dumb dog.

He moves a hand to your thigh and continues drumming the rhythm. You feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. His eyes are locked on your thigh as it bounces to the beat.

You pull up outside the old Waffle House, and it looks like you're the first to make it.

“Let's wait,” you sigh, leaning back, turning up the music.

His hand stills on your thigh. You close your eyes, honestly exhausted from the show.

His hand moves upward to rest in the crook of your hip, and the corner of your mouth curls up. You turn your head to look at him.

“What're you doin’?”

“Nothing,” he says, trying to sound inconspicuous.

Rodrick’s heart is going a mile a minute. He'd been so confident back at the bar, but here, with you, just you, he’s freaking out a little.

He studies your face in the glow of an orange street light. Your eyes, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips. He wants every feature burned into his memory forever. His hand is warm against your hip. You put your hand over his and he smiles.

“What, did you get scared or something?” You smirk.

“No…” Rodrick lies.

You kiss him again, and he melts into it. He slips one hand into the back of your hair and pulls you closer. You maneuver over the center console to get in his lap, and he breathes out deeply. The kiss gets messy, like all the energy of the night is coming out between your lips. Your hands are shaking. One rests on Rodrick’s shoulder, the other in his hair, and you make a noise as he bites your lip lightly.

“Sorry, is that okay?” He whispers.

You pull him in, and bite him back harder.

He groans, and his hold on your waist tightens.

He's snaking a hand under the hem of your shirt, when there's a tentative knock on the window. You pull away from each other.

“God dammit!” Rodrick pants.

It's Ward, with a hand over his mouth, feigning being scandalized.

“Oooooooh,” he taunts, when you're both out of the car, “I knew it.”

You roll your eyes, and keep the door open with your foot as the guys pour in. People from the show are everywhere, this is a decently common occurrence. You find a seat between your band and Rodrick’s at the bar. Maureen, your drummer, offers you a fist bump, and leans into your ear.

“He's cute,” she whispers, “did you drive here with him?”

You nod, suppressing a goofy grin.

“Do you think you're gonna…?”

You shrug.

“Up to him,” you whisper back.

The waitress, a blonde with a buzz cut and a face full of piercings, greets you by name, and asks, “Usual?”

Once your orders are in, Rodrick puts his hand securely on your thigh.

“Do you guys come here a lot?”

“Oh yeah, at least every weekend,” you lower your voice, “That's Jeanine, she's our regular. Then Martin and Rosie, who have worked here since the beginning of time. Then there's Carla. She's new. Last weekend, she and Martin were fighting because she kept getting orders wrong.”

He narrows his eyes and looks at each person you point at.

“Do you just come here to eavesdrop?” he asks quietly, suppressing a laugh.

“It's fascinating. Just watch.”

The two of you eat in silence and observe the inner workings of Waffle House.

Rodrick nudges you as Carla scrapes a plate into the trash, and Martin yells, Dammit, Carla! Chunked and covered! Not scattered!

Carla throws her apron to the floor and flips him off with both hands. Fuck you, old man!

“Oh shit,” you whisper.

“Damn,” Rodrick turns to look at you.

As your eyes meet, and the bell on the door jingles aggressively, you can't hold in your laughter anymore.

"He's such an asshole." Rodrick whispers, giggling in disbelief. Does every diner job just suck ass?

"I know, this Waffle House is under a dictatorship," you laugh

You both calm down, and end up just staring at each other.

“Rodrick, I don't wanna be too… forward, but…” you trail off.

His face goes blank.

“Do you wanna… get out of here? With me?”

Rodrick drops his fork, and snatches his tab off the counter.

“Yes,” his voice is feverish.

You follow behind him, and wave goodbye to everyone on your way out.

You'll absolutely get teased for this later on, but who gives a fuck?

Now, I've drunk a lot of wine and I'm feeling fine

Gotta race some cat to bed

Oh, is there concrete all around?

Or is it in my head?

Rodrick’s hands are on you the moment you shut your front door.

He backs you up against it, bringing his lips to yours once again. His lips creep down to your jaw, then your neck. Then he's on his knees, pushing the hem of your shirt up, kissing your stomach, your hip bones.

Your hands are in his hair, stroking and tugging.

“I don't know what it is about you,” Rodrick murmurs between kisses, “I just knew, I had to…”

“Me too,” you laugh a little, “I'm not usually this easy.”

He grins deviously up at you, undoing your bottoms.

“So you don't bring someone home like this after every show?” He gives your waist a little bite.

“No, god, no,” you chuckle, “this should be too fast, but something about this, you just feel right."

“Why me?” He pauses, looking up at you.

“You're just,” you look down at him. His dark doe eyes drill into yours, plump lips slightly open. You feel his hot breath on you, and it sends a shiver up your spine, “Jesus, you're just fucking hot. And you're not, like, an asshole about it. You could've taken any girl in that bar home tonight.”

“I wanted you,” his lips twitch, and without hesitation, he lifts you up, and sets you back down on your kitchen counter. He plants soft kisses on your thighs, and pauses to look up at you. It makes your head cloudy.

“Can I try something?” His voice is breathy.

You're still recovering from the shock of being lifted like that.

“Yeah,” you say, in slight disbelief, looking down at him.

He plants a kiss on your panties, and then removes them completely. You heartbeat skyrockets.

“I might be kinda bad, but… I've always wanted to try.”

You watch him gaze over your wetness. You truly cannot believe what's happening right now. He looks lustful, but focused, like he's trying to form a plan. Then without warning, he just dives in.

You hadn't expected much from him, but damn, he knows what he's doing. A shocked moan leaves your lips.

Your body feels electric as he snakes his tongue through your folds, finding all the places that make you whimper. He grunts, and you practically feel it reverberate through your whole body. You wrap your legs around his head and pull him closer. His tongue circles your clit and you throw your head back. His plush lips cover so much ground as he gives you a light suck.

“You sure you've never done this before?” Your weak voice teases him.

He pulls away with a pop, making you shudder.

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, “I’ve just thought about it a lot.”

“Well, you're doing fucking great.”

He gives you a sly grin and goes back in.

Your back starts to arch as he flicks, and sucks, and swirls his tongue. Your moans mix with his soft grunts and you realize you're starting to come undone. You grab a handful of his hair and roll your hips.

“Keep going,” you gasp, “I-I’m…”

His eyes flick up to meet yours and that does it. Your body jolts, and you squeeze your eyes shut as an orgasm rattles through you, the counter cool against your body.

He slows his actions, and comes to rest on your thigh again.

When you're recovered, you sit up, and put your hands on his shoulders. You kiss him hard, tasting yourself, and feel a new arousal awaken in you.

“Was that really okay?” His eyes plead with you.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You pant, holding his face in your hands, and he looks bashful, “Best I've ever had.”

You hop down from the counter.

“Your turn.”

“Are you sure?” He stutters.

You take him by the hand, and lead him across the small apartment to your bed.

Rodrick’s breath is shaky as he leans against the edge.

“Take your shirt off,” you tell him, and he does.

His eyes are hazy with lust, and he grunts when you kiss him. You run your hands over his chest. The muscles in his core are tight, and you can feel his heartbeat. Hard and fast.

You kneel, and your hands find the tight bulge in his jeans. He bites his lip as you unbuckle his belt and free him from his boxers.

It's a good length, fairly weighty, and he groans when you take it in your hands. You look up into his eyes and lightly roll your tongue over the tip. His knees buckle, and he sits back on your bed. You chuckle and scoot closer, steadying yourself between his legs.

“So… safe to assume you've never done this either?”

You fit him further into your mouth, trying to wet as much as you can.

“One time… almost,” he says, labored, “we were in a car and the cops knocked on the window.”

“Fuckin’ pigs,” you shake your head, then take him in as far as you can get him.

He lets out a long, low noise. You grasp the rest of his length with your hand and pump lightly. His thigh shakes under your other hand as you swirl your tongue.

You catch his eye and come up for air, licking him from base to tip. His eyes roll back, and you laugh.

“Should I keep going, or is this gonna take you out of commission?” You tease.

“Please… keep going,” Rodrick breathes.

His mind is foggy as he feels himself enter your mouth again. He can't even process what he's feeling, all he knows is he never wants it to stop. He doesn't feel in control of his own body. His hands desperately search for a grip on your comforter as you bob your head.

He tries his best to focus, to keep his eyes on you, but he feels something in himself start to slip. He throws his head back and closes his eyes, barely keeping himself up on his elbows. His legs tremble as he feels himself hit your throat and he lets out a long moan.

Then your mouth is gone, and he opens his eyes, desperate for the feeling to come back.

You crawl on top of him and straddle him.

“Scoot back,” you murmur, and he obliges.

You lean down to kiss him, and his hands come to rest gently in your hair.

Something still feels weird in his head. He doesn't think he's drunk anymore, but even the low light of your apartment feels too bright. His ears are ringing, maybe still from the noise of the bar. He feels his heart start to beat out of his chest, and he holds on to you for dear life.

It feels like he's dreaming, but maybe as long as his hands are on you, he'll be okay.

You're saying something. The words don't quite reach him, but he nods anyway. Eager for something to pull him back into reality.

A little voice in the back of his head is hissing. He tries to blow it off, but it's persistent, fighting him.

You don't deserve this.

Fuck his stupid brain. He wants to be present with you. He wants to hold onto every little second of this, keep it forever. It feels like you're far, far away from him, even as he watches you take your shirt off and feels your hips, warm on his.

The ringing in his ears subsides a little as your lips touch his again.

“Let me know if you want to stop, you look a little overwhelmed.” You whisper.

“No,” Rodrick urges, “I never wanna stop,”

You laugh, and start to kiss a trail down his chest.

He sighs into the feeling and closes his eyes.

The fuzz in his head isn't gone, though.

Yet.

It'll go away, he knows it.

He just needs to focus. On you, on how good you're making him feel.

On how good he'd made you feel, he's pretty damn proud of that.

Just stay in the moment.

Please, just stay in the moment.

And now I'm ready to close my eyes

And now I'm ready to close my mind

And now I'm ready to feel your hand

And lose my heart on the burning sand

And now I wanna be your dog

And now I wanna be your dog

And now I wanna be your dog

Well, c'mon

~

tag list: @crumpets-are-better-with-jam

[hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog]

YES!

Ok, the reason why I asked is because, this means Vinyl has the power to control angels/exorcists!

Just follow this with me.

The show has covered that Vaggie is still an angel. She just had her wings torn off and her eye ripped out and was left in hell to rot. But is still an angel. Still bleeds gold and all that. Never became a demon.

So, all those times Vinyl used his power on Vaggie, he was using it on an angel!

Just, think about it!

Imagine when they learned about Vaggie used to be an exorcist, Vinyl( who would be an adult by this time) thinks about all the times he used his power on her. That, she wasn’t a demon like he thought, but an angel. An exorcist, to that point! Beings so strong that, until recently, no one thought they could be killed! And here he was, making her dance to some goofy song, just because he thought it would be funny!

Then he thinks, no, no. There’s no way I’m that strong. Maybe all her time in hell weaken her bit.

And he keeps telling himself that, until the extermination happens.

Instead of Lute leaving after Adam dies, she stays and orders the other exorcists to kill them all, to avenge Adam.

Vinyl is so done. Why? Why continue this needless shedding of each other’s blood!? Haven’t they done enough! They destroyed his sister’s hotel, nearly killed her, their parents and their friends! For fuck’s sake! Sir Pentious is DEAD! Why can’t she just leave!? Why can’t they all just leave!

And just before the first attack was made, music fills the air. No one could tell where it was coming from or what it was about, but despite its tune, they could feel the sadness, frustration and desperation in it.

All the exorcists seemed to have to stop their attack, paralyzed to the point, if it wasn’t for the faint twisting of their bodies, you’d think they were statues.

Without a moment’s notice, Lute shot up into the air and flew toward the golden portal in the red sky with the other exorcists in tow.

No one knew what was going on. One second they thought they were all gonna die, next their enemy ups and leaves! Like, what the actual hell just happened!?

And this confusion stayed there, until they felt a strange sensation and looked to find Vinyl to be the source of it.

He was just standing there, with symbols floating around him, not so different from Alastor’s. Vinyl’s head was tilted forward so they couldn’t see his face, but they were able to see his antennas were flashing.

Feeling worried for her brother, Charlie walks towards him. When she got closer, she was hit with a feeling of static coursing through her body. But she wasn’t going to let that shake her. Not after today.

Especially not after today.

She noticed how tightly Vinyl had balled up his fists. His knuckles were almost white, and Charlie was she saw drops of blood coming from them.

She noticed his shoulders trembling from how tight his muscles were.

She noticed how it didn’t even look like he was breathing!

But what her attention the most was his face. His eyes were shut tight with prickles of tears in them, his mouth was stretched open as far as it could.

It was he was screaming but nothing was coming out.

When Charlie decided to place her hand on his shoulder, the last exorcist flew through the portal and it closed, Vinyl’s eyes shot open.

The music stopped playing.

THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME ANON YOURE SO SMART, this whole time I've been focusing on Vinyl's abilities as a sweet and funny thing (which it is) but he's also so clearly good at defending himself and others when needed

[daeholuvs]

About me🪞🩰

hello everyone! my name is jenna and I am 19 yrs old! I am from Canada and a mega roblox lover :0

My Favourite Artists/Bands🪩🎧

Taylor Swift (seen live!)

Fleetwood Mac

Billy Joel

Sabrina Carpenter

beabadoobee (seen live!)

Megan Mornoney (seeing live!)

Shania Twain (seen live!)

Arctic Monkeys

Arianna Grande

Phoebe Bridgers

One Direction

Olivia Rodrigo

Shawn Mendes (met him irl!)

Hobbies/Interests 💿🐚

I have been playing sports like basketball, softball, and volleyball since I was 9 years old. I love to paint, even though I am not the greatest I just find it so peaceful. I’m a hugeee swimmer, not professional just with friends:) I am a vinyl and cd collector!

TV/Movies 🎞️🕰️

I love so many different types of movies and show but my favs are:

Squid Game

Glee

Modern Family

How I Met Your Mother

Friends

Grey’s Anatomy

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Derry Girls

H2O: Just Add Water

Mako Mermaids

Victorious

ICarly

Criminal Minds

10 Things I Hate About You

A Cinderella Story

Tangled

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

27 Dresses

The Parent Trap

Mamma Mia

Avengers Infinity War

Other🍒💌

I used to run a Tom Holland fan account and wrote one shots/short stories, I might continue that here but with Squid Game characters!

I used to love writing and miss getting creative:))

[randomfoggytiger]

How the Ghosts Stole Christmas In-Depth (Part VII): Mulder Will Never Let Go

The last part is here at last-- here we go!

We pick up with either Maurice or Lyda popping on a background vinyl as the ghosts prepare for the FBI agents' lethal gun down (my bets are on Lyda.)  

Scully wakes with another flash of lightning and crack of thunder, turning her head and slowly coming to life. Immediately, she gets up and starts crawling back to her escape: she’s a fighter, she won’t give up, she won’t let this thing beat her. 

Mulder, meanwhile, crumples his way downstairs… which means he somehow crawled up that ladder, mounted the second story, and wobbled his way through the door, down the hall, and to the stairs with a gunshot wound (perhaps that should have been the giveaway.)

Also: I noticed brown patches on the front of his pant-thigh… did he have those before? They disappear after this scene... so, are they blood stains or padding for David Duchovny? 

Fatigue and desperation warring for supremacy, Mulder drags himself face-first down the rest of the steps; and, after scraping himself along to the main foyer, finds Scully’s snail trail of blood nearly beating him to the exit. 

The song the ghosts chose just happen to be singing “From now on our troubles will be miles away--” as the two agents' paths collide with their weapons handily close by. 

Even with all this bad blood between them, Mulder still calls out a hesitant “Scully?” when he sees her collapsed body. This effort is too much for him, and as he collapses as well.  

Snail Scully is on the move, not responding as adrenaline gives her a little boost to get going again… especially since Mulder-- the (as she currently sees him), raving lunatic-- is inch-worming his way closer. 

“Scully,” he calls out again in agony.

She knows she’s not going to make it out of the house; but that doesn’t mean she won’t go down without fighting for her dignity, even against Mulder (perhaps even for Mulder.) Scully may not live, but her death will be on her terms; and she’s not going to let Mulder make that choice for her, half out of his mind or not. 

Abdominal crunches are no joke, and a shot to the gut on top of it makes everything worse… but none of that matters to a Scully in survival mode. 

As Scully pulls up her gun, Mulder raises his own gun-- not surprised so much as stressed and frustrated with the seemingly insane choices his partner keeps making. 

“Pfff… I’m not gonna make it,” Scully admits, eyes fluttering in defeat. 

“Nno, you’re not,” Mulder snaps, repressed anger surging to the surface; and he refocuses with deadly intent, “Not without me you’re not.” 

And here we see the touch of madness to old Spooky: drawn to the romanticism of a Lover’s Pact, he was betrayed by the only person he trusted; and his corpse was about to be left for dead. Maurice so effectively got into his head and twisted his darkest fears-- Scully leaving him-- that he cannot see past his own pain and fear to notice that he’s acting out what his partner is afraid of: dragging her down into the depths of madness with him.  He WILL be avenged: Scully’s shot (unlike Anasazi) was an act of selfishness which robbed him of a chance to find closure for his sister, the ultimate treachery. The one person he relied on to be selflessly steadfast and loyal (which the ghosts spun into purely consuming and self-absorbed motives) was, again, the one who gutted him, like all the others before her. 

But does that stop Mulder from wanting Scully for all haunted eternity? No: just as Mulder fell for Phoebe’s tricks and settled for Diana, so too will he cling to Scully until there is nothing corporeal left. And Scully, ordinarily, feels wanted and needed and “whole” being consumed; until she looks about, finds half her life gone and nothing to show for it except an ouroboros. Mulder is satisfied with second (in this case, hundredth) best, clinging unhealthily to what he believes makes him happy, or at least secure… or at least is close enough to happiness that he can endure it and try to be content. 

Scully lets out a gasp of pain (and fear); and decides to get to the heart of the issue. It takes guts (heh), but there’s no denial left to hide behind. “Are you afraid, Mulder?” 

Maurice has told her he is; Lyda has told her he is; and Mulder has been told he is (and he is, to an extent.) But Scully asks him if he is: she must have proof, yes, but she also will always ask and listen to Mulder when no one else will.

He says nothing, only grips the gun with both hands and inches even closer. 

With another gasp of pain, Scully falls back and, metaphorically, breaks the first part of the curse with her courageous and trusting admission: “I am.” 

Mulder turns away, his hands loosening their grip as her confession seeps in, hurting and healing at the same time. “I am, too,” he says in a soft, vulnerable murmur. 

Scully takes another first step, clunking her gun down (with safety in mind) and fully giving in to the pain of death. Mulder turns on his back, too, mirroring his partner’s actions.  

His anger has not abated, however, redirecting itself into chastisement-- bickering over the truth to the last. “You should have thought of this.” 

“You should have,” Scully bites. She is not taking the blame for this sordid misadventure when she did nothing wrong and advised him against it.  

“YOU SHOT ME,” Mulder yells, enraged that the truth is being denied even on Death’s doorstep. 

“I didn’t shoot you, you shot me,” Scully counters, her voice even, unwilling to be taunted into a screaming match during her final moments… but not willing to have Mulder’s ridiculous assumptions be the last word on the matter.

This is a full-blown domestic fight, courtesy of Chris Carter. 

Mulder’s brilliant mind makes all the connections in literally four seconds, staring at himself, then Scully; then back at himself to test his theory. Poking at bloody, gooey crime scenes has always been a pastime of his, anyway. 

“Scully,” he perks up, way too much zest in his voice for a man who took a slug to the stomach. After Scully’s “What?”, he upgrades from inchworm to upright seal, plopping his gut to the floor with careless abandon; then rises to his knees, a jubilant smile on his face as he slaps the illusion blood on his chest. 

Ahh, Lyda, you almost got ‘im.   

“Get up,” Mulder commands, slip-sliding his way to his feet. 

Scully immediately protests. “I can’t,” she stresses, emphasizing the last word as a pointed reminder. 

Looming over her triumphantly, Mulder visually demonstrates: “We’re not shot." 

Scully, covered and rolling around in her own leaking blood, asks, “...WHAT?” 

Ecstatic (and a little bit crazy with relief), Mulder gently reaches for her. “C’mon,” he cajoles, helping his partner off the floor.  

Her mind starting to implode with all the hoops it's jumped through in the last hour, Scully passively lets Mulder hoist her dying body up and slap his bloody mitts to her wound, proving to her rational mind that this, at least, is real enough.  

And now for a tenderly romantic scene from Mulder’s perspective and an absolutely mind-melding one from Scully’s: 

Mulder has a dark thought-- this happy ending might have a twist to it-- and leaps for the door, pulling a barely-processing Scully firmly along with him. 

By the time they bolt outside, she’s gained her independent stride, both awed and spooked with her partner over their fresh, clean clothes. He, wisely, continues their winning streak and runs with her across the lawn, booking it to his car without looking back (but waiting until Scully’s car is turned on before hightailing it away from the mansion.) 

Midnight strikes-- another failure for the year. 

“Two such lonely souls…” Lyda ruminates, contemplative and moody. 

“Can’t let our failures haunt us,” Maurice says amicably, self-awareness at an absolute zero.  

Lyda admits to the game: “Do you wonder what they were really out here looking for?”

“Hard to say. People now… this is just another joyless day of the year.”

“Not for us,” Lyda reflects, the bitterness of her talk with Mulder melting away. She’d rather be dead and old with Maurice than playing eternal mind games with handsome, haunted young men. 

“We haven’t forgotten the meaning of Christmas,” he agrees. 

It’s Lyda who reaches out first, Maurice clasping her hand tenderly with his own; and the two vanish, awash in the glow of love and Christmas joy. 

It’s their own twisted way to bring love together, seeing eternal restless and devious acts as a conspiracy all their own; one that Mulder and Scully had to beat together.  

Back in Mulder’s lonely apartment, he’s interrupted from his dreary, morose mental contemplations (where he sits in front of while not watching an old black-and-white Scrooge laugh over not deserving so much happiness) by an unexpected knock on his door. It’s so unexpected that Mulder’s sudden happiness is doused with suspicion. He peeks from his living room warily, mulls over his next move, and decides to investigate. 

Doubling back, Mulder clicks off the tv, taps his living room doorway posts (for good luck-- knock on wood? nervous energy both?) before launching into the unknown. 

It’s Scully-- and she looks both annoyed and amused with herself over her inevitable pitstop. 

“I, uh…” she casts about for an excuse, pivoting her eyes away from Mulder while scrambling. Finally she gives up, surrendering to the clumsy truth (hunching her shoulders up, squinting at her smooth ineptitude, knowing her upcoming question will be awkward for them both.) She heaves a big, dramatic sigh-- “Can I come in?” 

“Yeah--” Mulder says too quickly, guiding Scully in by her shoulder, a soothing gesture for the both of them (in fact, for him it passes from soothing straight to thinly concealed joy.) 

Still. Mulder has to know, ever dedicated to finding the answers: “Aren’t you supposed to be opening Christmas presents with your family?” 

And here’s the set up to unwrapping presents between the two of them as an acknowledged family. Mulder and Scully have yet to claim or label the family tag-- Mulder because he doesn’t know what he can claim of Scully or even what he can offer, and Scully because she doesn’t know how much Mulder will let himself claim and she’s not going to be rejected ala The Beginning again-- but their confessions and unspoken affirmations by the end of the scene seal the deal in a way only the two of them can do. It's a little extra gift of their own. 

“Mulder,” Scully begins, swinging away from his dark and undecorated living room (another sacrifice to his Spartan living for his quest-- better to chase aliens or look into haunted mansions than to wade the holiday lines at the nearest department store. Besides, who would stare at the tree with him? His fish?) “None of that really happened out there tonight. …That was all in our heads, right?” 

Mulder can work with denial, especially because he was gutted (metaphorically, but also) all night; and he’d rather not get into his new, sinking opinion of his actions. 

“Y…must have been.” 

“Hm.” Scully mulls over her next thought, not too satisfied with her own experience but feeling she owes Mulder at least a half-baked apology… though for what, she isn’t brave enough to say (yet.) She may be filing the ghosts under hallucinations or paranoia, but Scully is going to dismiss what she thinks are repressed and untrue thoughts of her partner. She pokes a little at herself-- “Not that, uh… my only joy in life is proving you wrong”-- and hopes that Mulder will reassure her that those thoughts never entered his head. 

Her teasing brings out Mulder’s natural banter-- “When... have you proven me wrong?”-- but it, too, butts up against Maurice and Lyda's poisonous words. Mulder can be stubborn about his opinions, willing to chase them and ditch Scully if need be; and it leads to her hurt at his dismissals and his anger at her scoffing (ex. The Beginning and Field Trip) That selfish tendency to forget all for the chase ultimately tightens the noose of stagnation around Scully's throat: when he does so, it leaves her foolishly floundering for answers, feeling like she contributes nothing and only slows down Mulder's work.

But tonight is not about the noose for Scully: tonight is about stamping out Mulder's joy just to get a cheap thrill of self-importance: “Well… why else would you want me out there with you?”  

Fascinating: it’s early S6-- after The End shattered her confidence and FTF restored it, after The Beginning struck away her importance to the work and Drive reestablished it, after water boy tossed an “I love you” in Triangle but dropped the “normal life” cue in Dreamland I-- so this episode isn’t about Scully’s stagnation like Never Again-Milagro-All Things are: it’s about realizing her lonely, lovely man knows that, yes, she’s sticking around… but can only guess at how long. 

Mulder is touched by her Starbuck-ism: wanting to always be there, his helping hand, lovingly spieling away about the connections between lonely people and footsteps in the attic while waving her gun ready to cap anyone that threatens him. 

But her lukewarm, unsteady answer only sloshes at the wound’s vicinity rather than cleaning it: “You don’t want to be there?”  

Scully sees two options before her: 1. wiggle her way out of a confession or 2. admit. While she is ruminating, torn on her next action, Mulder misinterprets her silence. 

“Oh, that’s…um,” he pauses, closing his eyes to search for Maurice’s exact wording. “...self righteous and…  narcissistic of me to say, isn’t it?” Mulder adds in a low and burdened voice as he grimaces and swivels his head in self-reproach. 

The manipulation of his higher impulses cuts deep, casting his need for Scully in the same box as his thoughtless, single-minded actions. They are not equivocal; but the camaraderie he was enjoying melts away as he sinks back into that self-lashing low his partner had interrupted. 

“No, I mean…” Scully trails off, diagnosing the problem she and Mulder are suffering and, like a good doctor, deciding to disinfect it as quickly and efficiently as possible. She’s not used to being the candid open-book in this partnership; but some of the blame does fall on her shoulders; and she won’t let Mulder take his undue share (while she shoulders perhaps more blame than she deserves, too.) “Maybe I did want to be out there with you.” 

She turns her earnest little face up, giving Mulder a complete and unprotected look into her soul.

Mulder here completes the role-reversal: he keeps his guard up-- a defensive half-smirk cloaking his reserve-- as he tensely probes Scully’s expression. When she doesn’t waver, he softens, loosening his tense posture and smiling more deeply, touched and honored. 

Scully’s had enough ungainly revelations for one night, scrunching her face in discomfort and briefly opening her mouth to answer her partner’s “You know…” while Mulder takes the opportunity to nip over and grab a surprise Christmas present. 

“I know we said we weren’t going to...“ Mulder begins sheepishly, swiping it off the tv and shyly avoiding his partner’s eyes, “exchange gifts…but, uh…” 

Scully melts, posture slumping and face shifting to touched and inept in the face of his tender-hearted little gift. 

“It’s, uh, a little somethin’,” he beams, a little less embarrassed at her reaction. 

“Mulder…” she croaks, turning up his gigawatt smile even more. 

“Merry Christmas.” 

Scully has a little surprise of her own, too-- and boy, does she love surprises-- but not before rolling her eyes, again, at her own antics. She’s hopeless. 

“I gotta a little somethin’, too,” she adds, digging his present from her coat; and Mulder’s contentment at her happiness transforms into conspiratorial delight, chuckling deeply in anticipation and of course we both did, Scully.  

Shaking the present like a teasing little boy, Mulder entices Scully to the couch-- who takes after him with the same gleeful, naughty delight she had when unwrapping presents with Melissa-- where we get a glimpse of his only decorations: a stocking hanging by the fish and what appears to be a reindeer paperweight to hold it down. Ever a hopeful man, is Mulder. 

The camera pans out as Mulder continues to rattle his gift until Scully smiles; and the two of them begin their celebration by tearing into their gifts together-- as it should be. 

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

[anniebeckcalla]

drama [choi beomgyu x kim minjeong] [ongoing]

it's summer. winter has just been dumped by her long-standing bf, beomgyu fails to find a way to fit in amongst his friends...when the two meet, they find a friend in each other. however, just when they're at the height of life, someone returns to ruin it all…and they will stop at NOTHING to separate the two..

characters: winter, beomgyu, txt [side characters] jackson wang [party hoster] hyunsuk [winter's bf] huh yunjin [winter's ex- friend] yeri [winter's cousin]

updates every wednesday [starting 1st jan 2025]

link to contents | masterlist

───

part one: it wasn't supposed to be like this...

wc:1955 cw: angst, bullying, derogatory comments, pregnancy

Last days of high school were not meant to be like this.

Last days of high school were meant to be full of colour and sparkles, touched with the essence of joy and love. Last days of middle school were meant to tire you out with all the dancing and games involved.

Her feet were meant to hurt from not being able to sit down from all the spinning around. Her eyes were meant to be sore with tears from the aching feeling of never seeing her teachers again, and fear of the prospect of arts college. Her face should have been stained with face paint, hair tangled with streamers and confetti.

The last day of high school should not have ended with Winter Kim sitting on the bathroom floor of her apartment, throat sore from crying, eyes red raw from rubbing them with the hem of her school jumper, legs cramped from curling up between the toilet and sink.

The final rays of sunlight shone weakly through the grey clouds into the bathroom, casting a faint shadow across the vinyl that described exactly how Winter felt…invisible.

She should have known that something was wrong for ages, that it was all too good to be true. Hyunsuk hadn't answered any of her calls all week, avoided her in the school corridors, and ignored her messages on KakaoTalk even when it showed he was online. Winter had lied to herself that perhaps he needed space from her, he couldn't leave her after the threw years they'd been together, maybe he was just sad…the truth had hit her in the face today. Hard.

...

The last day of middle school celebrations had been held in the sports hall that afternoon, with games and dancing (and lots of food) promised as the evening rolled in. Winter had looked for Hyunsuk amongst the bustling students, hoping that she would be able to make him stop ignoring her, but he was nowhere to be found. It's hard, having a boyfriend. You sort of lose your personality. And because Bianca didn't have a personality, she didn't have any other friends. And she wasn't about to start trying to make any, not on the last day.

Embarrassed, she'd sat on the benches, alone. The fun of the day blurred into flashing colours before her eyes as she bit her nails worriedly, the music overhead on the speakers mashing into a pulsing boom. She didn't know why Hyunsuk was acting this way. He was the love of her life, the key to her heart. He was everything that she was not.

All the girls in her class were jealous of her for being Hyunsuk’s girlfriend. In a way, she understood their envy. He was handsome, smart, and respectful to the teachers. He wanted to join the Navy Corps when he was twenty. His parents were rich and elegant, his younger siblings cute and fair.

Winter had pretended not to notice the stares and whispers in the school corridors for so long, but now she felt that she had lost her grip on Hyunsuk at last.

She was right.

As if by magic, there he was, with her ‘friend’, Huh Yunjin from her form clinging onto his arm. They were both laughing as another classmate tied their legs together for the three legged race. Yunjin had shiny crimson hair and silver hoop earrings that caught the light as she moved.

Winter ran down the steps, almost falling as she ran across the hall to avenge them. “Hyunsuk, wait!” she screamed. Everyone fell silent. Even the music seemed to quieten to listen in. Winter held onto Hyunsuk’s other arm. He looked away. She didn't know the expression that was in his eyes-disgust? fear?

“Winter,, I thought I told you that we're finished,” he muttered coldly.

“But, Hyunsuk-”

“Winter, just go away.”

“Hyunsuk-”

“Move, bitch!” Yunjin yelled, her voice echolating off the walls. “Are you deaf or something?”

The entire hall filled with laughter. Yunjin threw her head back with as she screeched, pleased that she had created a joke out of someone on the final day of school. Winter looked around to see every single face creased with mirth, braces and glasses glinting against the fluorescent bulbs overhead.

Laughing at her, not with her.

Winter had grabbed her bag and ran out of the building as fast as her legs had taken her. Even she was surprised at her speed.

Just like that, after three years, it was over.

...

Where had it all gone wrong? What had made Hyunsuk switch up from Winter to Yunjin after all these years?

Winter stood up, knees shaking, and stumbled her way to the bathroom mirror.

She had expressive black eyes with long eyelashes (probably the only good thing her absent father had left her), jet hair with white streaks (a result of dying her hair with Hyunsuk earlier that year) that went down to her back, and a small, petite frame which made all her clothes look massive on her. No. She may be many things, but she was NOT ugly.

Her knees gave way as she slid back down to the floor, thinking through any other possible red flags she could have unknowingly possessed.

Was it the fact that she sent him ASMR pimple popping videos to watch? (she was addicted to them and wanted him to become addicted as well)

Was it the constant rejections to going out on a school night? (she was obsessed with schoolwork and always stayed in to get it finished)

Or maybe the notes she popped into his school locker every morning? (“You got this!” “You're amazing!” “You're loved!”) (He never did acknowledge them.)

Light streamed into the bathroom from the crack at the bottom of the door as the bell sounded.

Mama and Yeri were home.

Winter didn't jump up to go and see them. Technically, they didn't know she was there because they thought she was still at the party. The thought cut through Winter like a fresh whip as the feeling of rejection hit her in a new aspect. She really didn't know how she was going to be able to handle this breakup. Without meaning to, a fresh peal of sobs reverberated throughout her body, and she curled up to contain herself.

The door to the bathroom opened. “Winter!” Mama exclaimed. “What's the matter? Are you ill?” Winter had been dreading their return, but realised she was happy to see her mum. Mama, with her round cheeks and big soft tummy. Mama, who smelt like the baby powder from the chemist that she worked at. Winter held onto Mama and allowed herself to be pulled up. She didn't let go even when Mum tried to pull away. “Okay, okay,” Mama said, rubbing Winter's back.

Yeri waddled in. I say waddled, because that's all she was able to do, what with her expecting her baby at any time now. Yeri was Mama’s younger cousin. Because she had been kicked out of her own mum’s house for so long (a tiresome and unnecessary backstory), she was also pretty much Mama's bonus daughter- she practically lived in Winter's apartment with her and Mama. It wasn't too bad, really- Yeri wasn't a nuisance, but she said offhand things sometimes. Like now.

“Looks like someone didn't get picked as Prom Queen,” she laughed. “No-let me guess, Hyunsuk dumped you?”

The silence that followed confirmed her question.

Winter sobbed harder as Mama waved Yeri away. “That was nice of you! Go away and make yourself useful-I don't care if your back hurts. Go AWAY, I said!” Yeri waddled back out, muttering to herself, while Mama hugged Winter even more tightly. “It's okay,” she soothed. “You know, sometimes bad things happen so that there can be space for happy things to take place.”

“They were all laughing at me, Mama-”

“That doesn't matter. None of them matter anymore. You're going to arts college in the autumn now, you'll be a new person, and that's all that matters.”

Winter let go of her mum at last. She stood up straight and smiled.

“Okay, Mum, I'll be happy now.”

Mum squeezed her shoulder. “There we go. That's my girl! Listen- I've bought your favourite raisin cookies from the market! Have a bath, and when you go to your room, there'll be a plate waiting for you with some milk. Now, I'm just going to prepare something for Yeri before she starts complaining!”

After Mum closed the door, Winter stopped smiling, and let her shoulders sag as far down as they could go.

...

Just as Mum had promised, there were the raisin cookies on her bedside table, golden brown discs of delight studded with juicy plump raisins. They were on her favourite plate, too- the light blue one with white bunnies around the edge. Standing next to the plate was a tall glass of milk, the glass adorned with cornflowers to match the plate.

Somehow, the thought that Mum had put into the cookies and milk made everything much worse.

Winter felt her pyjamas stick to her still-damp skin as she sat down to devour the sweet treats. She wasn't usually allowed to eat in her room (Mom wanted her room to be clean) but then she wasn't usually in this situation where she had been dumped and humiliated at school, either.

She bit into the first cookie. It was soft and chewy in all the right places, the raisins bursting to allow the sweet juice to run all over her tongue. She took a sip of the milk. Ah, that was the stuff! It mixed perfectly with the cookie and slid down her throat, making her feel bubbly and warm. Maybe, Winter thought, eating the cookie, life wouldn't be so bad after all.

She started on her second cookie as she opened her phone.

Big mistake.

On the school live feed, there was a massive picture of Hyunsuk and Yunjin, all feather boas and paper crowns and face paint. The caption read:

Hyunsuk and Nari, the School King and Queen!

The cookie in Winter’s mouth turned to cold mush. She opened the comments.

CutiePie365: I'm so glad that Hyunsuk isn't with that weirdo Winter anymore.

[Replying to CutiePie365] TwilightSparkle2007: It's such a shame that they didn't break up sooner.

RegularHuh2014: You got yourself a cool girl, Hyunsuk. Way better than Winter Kim!

WeLostTheSummer2020: Who in their right mind names their daughter Winter, anyway? Major red flag!!!

Winter scrolled through the comments, desperately looking for someone who disagreed, someone who who would defend her-

-I heard that Winter is obsessed with pimple popping ASMRs? Isn't that what psychos do?-

-Yunjin was saying that she would put weird notes in his bag-

-Seriously, we weren't safe in that school with her anymore-

-I bet she wears contact lenses as well. No real person has eyes as cute as that naturally-

It wouldn't stop.

It kept on going, endlessly, relentlessly, cruelly.

Winter threw her phone at the wall. It slid down behind her bed.

There, it was all gone.

She stuffed the rest of the cookies in her mouth, her cheeks bulging. She dribbled the milk into her full mouth, the white substance running down her face and onto her pyjamas. Her breathing grew more and more erratic as she chomped down. They weren't cookies anymore. They were Hyunsuk, they were Yunjin, they were TwilightSparkle2007.

Some of the food went down the wrong pipe. Winter coughed, and the cookie milk mush went all over her bedside table. With a defeated sob, Winter let herself collapse on the table, face stained with tears and milk and regurgitated cookie.

Last days of high school were not meant to be like this.

✿﹒

taglist: @cigsaftersuh @herjaemin @pl4netx1a @jenoleeaesthetic @mejaemin

[millasboutique]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Funko POP! Marvel Avengers: Iron Man Hover Target Excl Gamer Verse New.

[lavelled]

charming sibling tapestry. 

Harrow:

KING BUYS LUXE CONDO UNIT 11A AT THE CANADIAN CONSULATE OF NEW YORK.

Did Daddy’s unfavorite son get his very own rape room?

A young hockey player angered you.

Lots of people don’t like you. Move your swivel chair. They say you’re ostracized poison.

Your response to me was prohibiting me from seeing my dead cult when this is over. Little absurdist rape-recruit criminal. Shouldn’t you be tantrum throwing or rewatching Fight Club?

For years, regal elegance has trended online. Cheaply achieved. I wouldn’t flaunt performance art to the unsuspecting public on a worldwide platform, for profit, with no artistic entity to sell, with a man who clearly didn’t love me. The stepping back as senior royals to enjoy private life in California is him realizing oh wait the hands-tied, pathological-lying ruse is catching up to me. Don’t get me wrong: they still cash in. British and Hollywood fans have been in a steady decline, thankfully.

In spoiler-filled Xotel Harry, we’ve lifted digital camouflaging for Archillect, Murat Pak, Piers Morgan, narrating English football in UK time, and Elon Musk. Typing martyr today? Soulless. You tweeted: Put Never Went To Therapy On My Gravestone when I left the cave site. Google musk never gone to therapy Feb 28.

In the meantime, there’s a Tom Cruise marathon of cinema. Syfy. Disney. Animal Planet. I haven’t seen, A Few Good Men, since 1992. Sharp Sorkin dialogue. In minute seven, Tom’s in Washington, DC in a baseball team uniform, Boston Red Sox cap, playing SOFTBALL, and dropping effortlessly hip references to oregano. That’s me! Those are my letters. He did read them. You were 8.

Far from the entertainment business, your family of high principles did this because unlimited access to wealth and privilege can be toilsome. I don’t know what it’s like to be born into such elevated social status. If I cobbled together the trappings of royal life for a babied prince, I’d get that the necessary detachment and trafficking saved you from shocking abuse.

Skydiving, English football, tennis matches. Premiere of movie, Spice World, in the somber year of 1997. A three-pronged holiday ski trip in Whistler, Canada in 1998. Regular family trips to Klosters Ski Resort in Switzerland. Romantic ski vacation in exclusive resort in Kazakhstan. Endless photog evidence of you leaving London nightclubs. On a motorcycle in South Africa. First pitch at Mets game. Stag parties. Caught naked in a VIP suite in Las Vegas. Sprinting with Usain Bolt in Jamaica. Charity polo matches. Meeting Rihanna in Barbados on World Aids Day. Visiting Casablanca to promote girls’ education. Videotaping a challenge to the Obamas. Taping heartfelt message to Elton John. Speech at the United Nations for Nelson Mandela Day. Chairing Vax Live: The Concert to Reunite the World. Spouses accepting Kennedy Human Rights Award for leadership to dismantle structural racism. Meeting human rights icon, Desmond Tutu. Date night at The Lion King premiere. Obstacle course race with James Corden. Super Bowl 2022 with your cousin. Chat show and podcast interviews for Book. Hosting The Kinsey African American Art & History Collection in LA. Katy Perry concert. Beyoncé Renaissance concert.

Seems stifling.

My life has been a little different.

When the British press published cavorting Vegas pictures in 2012 titled, Heir It Is, why are you in a Let’s Get Wild Lauren’s Bachelorette shirt? Are you not admitting to being my older male cousin by proxy, locking up a little girl for arranged marital sex?

What is it about music that is lightning crashes, would you capture it, genie in a bottle, can’t find a better man, dearly beloved, guess the fortune teller’s right, the club isn’t the best place, shut up and dance, it’s gonna be me. Your vinyl-shaped rapey spinster schoolchild code is caught in youtubing stories full of tellers.

Welcome to the Internet—Bo Burnham. Toby Keith—How Do You Like Me Now. Bad Wolves—Zombie. Skillet—Monster. Avenged Sevenfold—Hail To The King. Avicii with Aloe Blacc—Wake Me Up—Tim Bergling traveled to Muscat, Oman to fatally wound himself 5 years later.

K

[govindhtech]

Funko Fusion Gameplay: A Toy Box of Endless Fun

Funko Fusion video game

Funko, a popular culture shop, is known for its quirky and charming collectibles. Funko makes vinyl figures of movie and video game heroes. Collectors and fans need these figurines. Funko, on the other hand, does not limit itself to simply replicating well-known characters. A novel idea known as Funko Fusion has been unveiled, combining cherished characters from several series to create wholly original works of art.

The engrossing realm of Funko Fusion is explored in this piece, along with its beginnings, the process of creating these mashups, and their influence on pop culture fandom.

Funko Fusion trailer

There is some mystery around the precise origin of this. According to some, Funko first used it as a means of providing unique collectibles at conventions and events. Some others think it originated in brainstorming sessions when designers jokingly imagined what characters from disparate planets could look like together. Whatever its place of origin, collectors reacted favourably to Funko Fusion. The inventiveness and surprising pairings wowed the audience.

Funko Fusion platforms

Combining Franchises: Funko Fusion Methodology

A keen awareness of pop culture and a good amount of imagination are required to create it’s figure. Funko usually chooses two or more characters with unique personalities and visual styles. They then pinpoint recurring motifs or components that can help the characters become closer to one another. For example, a mashup of Wonder Woman and Hermione Granger from Harry Potter may emphasise their bravery and brains, while a Funko Fusion of Batman and Sherlock Holmes could stress their shared detective talents.

Designers start by drawing and sculpting the figure when the concept is decided upon. This means combining both characters’ physical characteristics into a single, unified design. With something completely new to offer collectors, the finished product is a unique figure that captures the spirit of each of its original characters.

The following are a few well-known Funko Fusion figures:

Mash-Up Heroes: The Avengers team up with Captain America to form Captain Iron, and Batman and The Flash combine to form the incredibly fast Bat Flash.

Animation Fusion: Bug Mickey is created when Mickey Mouse and Bugs Bunny combine to become SpongeStar, and SpongeBob SquarePants and Patrick Star become SpongeStar.

Stranger Things Fusion: Eleven and Demogorgon unite to create the Eleven Demogorgon, a singular character embodying the antagonist and protagonist of the show.

These are but a few instances of the countless ways, it can be used. Funko provides collectors of all ages a nice surprise, whether it’s Disney princesses combined with superheroes or renowned movie monsters combined with cartoon characters.

Funko Fusion’s Resonance: The Fandom Factor

The creative and whimsical nature of it figures appeals to a fundamental human need. They let fans envision their favourite characters coexisting in the same universe and interacting in surprising ways. This releases are exciting because of this feeling of discovery and element of surprise.

These individuals also satisfy an increasing tendency among pop culture fans, which is the demand for more active involvement and engagement. Online forums allow fans to debate their favourite Fusion characters, produce fan art based on them, and even compose original tales showcasing these interesting mashups. Funko Fusion encourages a sense of camaraderie and gives fans artistic outlets to showcase their passion for popular culture.

Beyond the Shelves: Funko Fusion’s Influence

It’s impact goes beyond figures that can be collected. Talks about crossovers between franchises, as well as creative cosplay, fan art, and even personalised Funko Pops created by fans themselves, have all been triggered by this idea. The concept is collaborative and interactive, as evidenced by the blurring of the lines between official Funko Fusion figurines and fan-made versions.

Other industries have also become interested in Funko Fusion. Character designs from Funko have been used in video games, and there have even been rumours of possible Fusion animated films or television shows. It will be interesting to watch how this idea develops further because it has a lot of storytelling and entertaining potential.

Funko Fusion’s Prospects

It doesn’t appear to be slowing down. Funko will undoubtedly keep creating fascinating and surprising mashups because it has an apparently limitless library of characters to choose from and a devoted fan base. More intricate character fusions, themed television centred on particular franchises or genres, and even partnerships with other pop culture assets are possible developments for Funko Fusion in the future.

There’s little doubt about it: It will always enthral collectors, provoke thought, and encourage inventiveness among pop culture enthusiasts. You never know what unexpected pairings might be ready to join your collection, so keep an eye out for the next wave of Funko fusions.

Funko Fusion voice actor

Upcoming action-adventure video game “Funko Fusion” has a varied voice cast that brings well-known characters from several franchises to life. The following are a few well-known voice performers from the game:

M3gan is voiced by Amie Donald.

British Dalton speaks for Lo’ak.

The Minions are voiced by Pierre Coffin.

Voiced by Richard Ian Cox, Inuyasha.

The voice of Kagome Higurashi is Kira Tozer.

Funko Fusion price

Funko Fusion is a video game; the cost will change based on the platform you select. This is an explanation:

Nintendo Switch (anticipated debut date: November 15, 2024) costs $59.99. [according to data from Amazon]

Xbox Series X and PlayStation 4 are available for $49.99 (launched on September 13, 2024). [according to data from Amazon]

$59.99 for a  PC running Steam

Funko Fusion Release date

On September 13, 2024, Funko Fusion a Funko Pop mashup of well-known titles including Jurassic World and Back to the Future was release on the  PC, PlayStation, Xbox, and Nintendo Switch! Are you able to see it?

Read more on govindhtech.com

[newfunkopop]

Exploring the Best Funko Pops in Pop Culture!

In recent years, there's been a collectible craze sweeping the globe, captivating the hearts of fans and collectors alike. Funko Pops have become more than just vinyl figures; they have become an iconic symbol of pop culture fandom. With their unique design, endless variety, and wide range of themes, Funko Pops have taken the world by storm, captivating enthusiasts of all ages. In this blog post, we'll delve into the fascinating world of Funko Pops and highlight some of the best ones that have captured our hearts.

The Pop Culture Revolution: A Brief History of Funko Pops

Funko, a company founded in 1998 by Mike Becker, started as a small project manufacturing nostalgia-themed bobbleheads. However, everything changed in 2011 when the first Funko Pop was released. This vinyl figure, inspired by the character Ad Icon, quickly gained popularity, leading Funko to explore new licenses and franchises. Since then, Funko Pops have exploded in popularity and are now found in every corner of the globe.

What Makes Funko Pops Special?

One of the key factors contributing to the success of Funko Pops is their distinctive design. With their oversized heads, tiny bodies, and adorable features, these figures manage to strike the perfect balance between cute and cool. Whether it's a beloved character from a movie, TV show, video game, or even a real-life icon, Funko manages to capture the essence of each subject in a unique and endearing way.

Another allure of Funko Pops is their staggering variety. Collectors can find Pops from virtually every major franchise in pop culture, spanning from Marvel and DC superheroes to Disney princesses, Star Wars characters, and everything in between. There are even Pops for classic rock bands, sports stars, and famous politicians, ensuring there's a Funko Pop for everyone's taste and interest.

Furthermore, Funko often releases limited edition, exclusive, and chase variant Pops, creating an exciting hunt for collectors seeking to add these rare gems to their collections. This scarcity factor adds an element of thrill to the collecting experience, turning it into a passionate and competitive hobby.

Top 10 Best Funko Pops You Must Own

Batman (The Dark Knight): The Caped Crusader, as portrayed by Christian Bale in Christopher Nolan's iconic trilogy, remains one of the most sought-after Pops for DC fans and movie enthusiasts.

Iron Man (Avengers Endgame): This special edition Tony Stark in his heroic final moments is a must-have for Marvel fans and a fitting tribute to Robert Downey Jr.'s unforgettable portrayal.

Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian): Officially known as "The Child," this adorable Star Wars character captured hearts worldwide with his cute appearance and enigmatic nature.

Harry Potter with Hedwig: The young wizard and his loyal owl companion make for a delightful addition to any Harry Potter fan's collection.

Daenerys Targaryen (Game of Thrones): The Mother of Dragons, portrayed by Emilia Clarke, comes with her fierce dragons, representing one of the most memorable characters from the hit TV series.

Mickey Mouse (Steamboat Willie): Celebrating the 1928 animated short that introduced Mickey Mouse to the world, this Pop pays homage to the beloved Disney character's origins.

Darth Vader (Star Wars): A symbol of the dark side, Darth Vader stands tall as an iconic figure in the Star Wars franchise, making him a favorite among collectors.

Sherlock Holmes (BBC Series): Benedict Cumberbatch's modern take on the brilliant detective has gained a massive fan following, making this Pop a must-have for mystery enthusiasts.

Deadpool (X-Force): The Merc with a Mouth has taken the world by storm, and this version of Deadpool in his X-Force uniform is a standout addition to any Marvel fan's collection.

John Wick: Keanu Reeves' formidable hitman character, known for his stylish action and impeccable fashion, is a perfect addition for fans of the intense action movie franchise.

The Art of Collecting Funko Pops

Collecting Funko Pops is not just about amassing vinyl figures; it's an art that involves creativity, display, and a genuine passion for the characters they represent. Many collectors showcase their Pops in imaginative and artistic setups, arranging them according to themes, franchises, or even scenes from movies and TV shows. This creativity has given rise to a thriving online community, where collectors share their displays, trade Pops, and engage in lively discussions about their favorite figures.

For some, Funko Pops are more than just collectibles; they hold sentimental value as tokens of cherished memories from beloved films, shows, or games. Whether they remind you of your favorite childhood characters or the heroes and villains who inspire you today, Funko Pops serve as a tangible connection to the stories and worlds that have shaped our lives.

The Future of Funko Pops

As Funko continues to expand its licenses and franchises, the future of Funko Pops looks brighter than ever. New generations of collectors will undoubtedly discover and fall in love with these captivating figures, keeping the passion for pop culture alive for years to come.

In conclusion, Funko Pops have become more than just toys; they have become a global phenomenon and a symbol of our collective love for pop culture. With their adorable design, vast variety, and ability to evoke nostalgia, Funko Pops have earned their place as must-have collectibles for enthusiasts young and old. So, whether you're a seasoned collector or just starting your journey, don't miss out on the joy of owning some of the best Funko Pops and being a part of this thrilling pop culture revolution!

[donsvgfile]

Drax The Destroyer Tattoos SVG Cut Files for Cricut Guardians of The Galaxy PNG image Marvel DXF file

Drax The Destroyer Tattoos SVG Cut Files for Cricut Guardians of The Galaxy PNG image Marvel DXF file

Guardians of the Galaxy SVG Files, Avengers vector cut files, Marvel SVGs for T-Shirt designs, Drax The Destroyer Tattoos cutting file, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 3 svg images for Cricut, Groot Superhero DXF for Silhouette Cameo, GOTG SVG Designs, MCU Movie PNG for Sublimation, Marvel Comics Free SVG. Item description: ► This is a digital download, no physical product will be delivered. ► This design comes in a single ZIP file with the following file formats: - SVG cut file for Cricut Design Space, Silhouette Designer Edition, Inksape, Adobe Suite and more. - DXF file for Silhouette users. You can open this with the free software version of Silhouette. - PNG file with transparent background and 300 dpi resolution. ► You can use Drax The Destroyer Tattoos SVG cut files perfectly for your DIY projects and handmade products (t-shirts, mugs, pillowcases, blankets, bags, invitation card, heat transfer vinyl, wall decal, party decorations, home decor, paper crafting, sublimation, crafts, etc). ► Due to the nature of digital files. No any refunds or exchange available here. ► SUPPORT / HELP: If you have any question or need help we are always there for you. You can contact us by going on CONTACT US PAGE and sending us your query. How to Download Drax The Destroyer Tattoos SVG Cut Files for Cricut Guardians of The Galaxy PNG image Marvel DXF file ► To Download Drax The Destroyer Tattoos SVG Design you need to follow these steps STEP 1: Click on “ADD TO CART” on all the files that you want to purchase. STEP 2: Once you added the files to cart, click the “PROCEED TO CHECKOUT” button and enter your billing details on checkout page. STEP 3: Complete the payment with Paypal or Credit Card. After payment you will be automatically redirected to a Download page where you can download the files. Click on the file to download it. STEP 4: Also you will receive an email from DonSVG.com, this email includes download link, just click on it and your Drax The Destroyer Tattoos images will start downloading automatically. NOTE : If you had chose to create a user account before purchasing, your purchased files will be in the downloads section inside your user account. Don't miss out on the chance to show off your love of the Guardians of the Galaxy and Drax with these amazing SVG cut files! Click "Buy Now" and start creating your own Drax-inspired designs today. Thanks For Shopping!! Read the full article

[ghostcultmagazine]

Catch up on what you missed this week in the world of Rock and Metal news with our show! #musicnews #rocknews #metalnews #interviews #newmusicfriday #vinylcollector #metalmerch #musicnews #metalnews #rocknews Check out our linktree - updated daily with top stories https://ift.tt/NyJGEiR These are affiliate links: Check out VID IQ and take your YouTube videos to a new level like we did! https://ift.tt/IgY8wpa Buy Keefy's JBL Go 3 https://amzn.to/3zn02sQ Buy us a Ko-fi https://ift.tt/R3sHhp0 or We now take Cashapp $ghostcultmag Check out our weekly news show! 📰 We cover the major stories of the week in heavy music, rock, and metal news, tour dates, and festivals, New Music Friday, and more! Features: August Burns Red - new album breakdown: https://youtu.be/O-Sj9xtKQds Shelby Lermo of Ulthar discusses their two new albums: https://youtu.be/z5Gwl9YIrRE Billy Sheehan of The Winery Dogs and Mr. Big - podcast version https://ift.tt/kEPwnJf Glacially Musical https://ift.tt/nm8MB2H August Burns Red, Ulthar, Bill Sheehan of The Winery Dogs and Mr. Big on the Ghost Cult Podcast, Heavy Business Podcast, Glacially Musical Podcast - Nik's big Vinyl score, PoweTrip Live Festival officially books, Graspop Festival adds Machine Head, Prophecy Fest adds My Dying Bride and more, Lollapalooza Day splits announced, Pirahna Pit Fest, Four Chord 9 punk fest comes to Pittsburgh, Antisaint added to Download Festival, Uprising Festival coming soon, The Electric Highway Festival will return in 2024, Inferno Festival is around the corner, Lost Highway fest books Lynyrd Skynrd, Emma Ruth Rundle headline tour underway, Avenged Sevenfold books a tour, Godsmack and Staind to co-headline a tour, Armed for The Apocalypse tour booked, Queen and Adam Lambert return, Warbringer EU tour, Ludicra books Saint Vitus Bar, Nick Cave books a mini tour, Night Ranger cancels tours, Red Fang adds new dates, Killswitch Engage books a few summer shows, KISS, Blaze Bayley heart attack update, Metallica new song and video, new James Hetfield guitar book Dark Angel pays tribute to Jim Durkin, new Slipknot album drop coming soon, Tom Morello gives an update on RATM's future, Dave Lombardo new solo single, Obituary live stream coming soon, Underoath lineup change raises questions, Epicenter new single and EP coming soon, Abiotic teams up with Matthew Heafy of Trivium, Mastodon's drummer headed to late night, Nervosa new lineup and track, Jimmy Page drops a previously released Led Zeppelin demo, The HU teams with Serj of SOAD for a new single, Bridge 9 Records hitting it hard for RSD 2023, Jason Lekberg helps bands sniff out merch scams, Sargent House label drama, Pink Floyd global celebrations, and in our mailbag - a giant unboxing from Salt of The Earth Records!

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

dating steve rogers

he is a literal golden retriever in human form. he gives the best hugs. i just know it. 

-steve was outgoing. he had to be, leading the avengers. he was always there for anyone whenever they needed him, taking charge of situations that needed a leader, a strong one at that.

-so when you first showed up to the avengers compound, a shiny, spunky new recruit who had determination in her bones, you were quite shocked to meet the super soldier in person.

-he was shy. extremely, extremely shy.

- towards you, at least. to others, he was just like he was on tv. driven, in charge. words filled with confidence and determination. but when steve had first met you, it was.. unusual.

  - you came up to him with a pep in your step, ready to take whatever he threw at you. you were expecting a stern, strong greeting. instead, he gave you a soft smile, blue eyes not quite meeting yours. a little wave was tossed your way, and that was that.

- you fought to keep your face neutral. it was not expected for him to be so… timid. even natasha noticed a difference with how he greeted you compared to others, cocking an eyebrow at him as he moved on to welcome the next person.

- you shrugged it off, thinking nothing of it. but as training seasons continued, you felt his eyes linger on your frame a little longer than the others.

  -you were growing stronger each day with training, and with steve's helpful hand. he’d often come up to behind you, hands placed on your hips to adjust your stance as you hit the punching bag, or a gentle hand lingering on your arm as you’d prepare yourself to nock a target with your bow and arrow.

  - it made you smile, the way he’d blush whenever he caught his hand resting on your soft skin for longer than necessary. he tended to have this nervous habit you picked up on, where he’d tug on his lower lip with his teeth, or he’d scratch his neck. typical, but adorable.

-one night you voiced your thoughts to nat. you and steve hadn't ever hung out besides training, or the odd time you'd see him walking the halls on his way to a meeting, so you were concerned you had done something wrong. she laughed it off, telling you she noticed a change in him too.

- “a good change” she said, shoving ramen in her mouth as you shuffled the cards for the two of you to play. nat said he seemed more flustered, but happier whenever he finished teaching recruits.

  -when she said he had a crush, you nearly choked on your drink. steve rogers? the steve rogers? a crush on you?!

- you brushed it off, although deep down you were skipping over your feet with happiness.

-deciding to be a bit ballsy, you encouraged conversation with him the next training session, asking more questions and making little jokes. (his smile was the prettiest thing you had ever seen in your entire life)

-one night, when you couldn't sleep, you snuck to the kitchen to grab some ice cream. noticing the light was still on in one of the training rooms, you grabbed two spoons with a hope he’d be there. the gods answered your prayers.

- steve was surprised to see you, but said nothing as you slid on top of stacked gym mats to open the container. you teased him about how he was abusing the poor punching bags, making him shake his head with laughter. with a smile, he joined you, bumping your shoulder as the two of you talked about your day.

- slowly, he was becoming less shy with you. not that you minded the shyness. it was adorable.

- the two of you started hanging out more, becoming friends rather than just training partners. the ice cream dates became more frequent, and the two of you started clinging to each other like monkeys.

-he had a golden retriever energy to him, always being near you, being so bubbly.

  -steve took you on hikes to his favourite spots, picking flowers with you along the way. the two of you binged movies together, like star wars and lord of the rings. or you’d sit in his room, playing with his hair as he’d play an older vinyl on his player. you eventually got him to play some taylor swift, convincing him he was a speak now type of man.

  -one night, when he was in the shower, you came in with all the snacks for your weekly movie night. gummies, chocolate, chips, popcorn- you name it. while you were waiting for him to get out of the shower, listening to that annoying ass movie title page music, you noticed his journal peaking at you from his nightstand. It was begging to be touched.

- now you were never one to snoop. but, cmon now. a girls gotta know.

-it was filled with you. how awed he was to see you for the first time, how nervous he was because of beautiful you were, and how strong you carried yourself. scribbles about how much he liked you, how attracted he was to your smile, your body, your personality and your laugh. little doodles of you he had kept in his memory from training, rankings of songs you had recommended to him. (he ranked them all 10/10, saying “style” by taylor swift reminded him of the two of you)

  -he talked about how badly he wanted to kiss your lips, and right when you were getting into the juicy bits, a cough cut you off.

- steve just laughed nervously, hand coming up to do that neck scratch- just as nervous as he was when the two of you first met

-”well this is awkward” he sang, towel slung low on his hips as the water droplets trickled down those beautiful abs.

-you answered this with a kiss, so passionate you saw stars.

-and that was the start of the two of you.

- he was a true gentleman. even more than before. holding doors for you, always holding your hand and kissing it. always telling you how lucky he was that you were his, always admiring you.

  -steve always held you close, touch never leaving yours. whether this was a wrap around the waist hug, giving you piggybacks around the compound, swinging you around bridal style, or cuddling you in his bed, stroking your hair softly as you fell asleep in his arms.

-steve calls you sweetheart, honeybuns, his bumblebee, his little doll. always his.

-you were spoiled every week with gifts, if you wanted them or not. flowers with handwritten notes. candles for the baths you had with him every other night. little poetry books he had annotated, or cassette tapes with playlists he had made you. one time he had gone to a bakery, showing up at your room with a cake that had “congrats on being the prettiest girl alive” written in pink icing on the top with little roses.

  -he was a huge suck despite being 6’5 and pure muscle. always wanting head or back scratches, steve always used your tits as pillows, marking them up as you’d run your fingers through his gold silky locks. he always spoiled you in return though, braiding your hair or putting face masks on you, giving you massages with it.

-polaroids. polaroids, polaroids. steve LOVED taking polaroids of you, having them hung up all around his mirror. you sleeping, you in his shirt in the morning making breakfast, you all naked, waiting for him on the counter so the two of you could shower together. (hes a bit like bucky that way hehe)

  -steve also loved dancing with you (this is a given) he taught you how to slow dance, and you stepped on his feet a lot. eventually, you let him swing you around, throwing you over his shoulder as he swung you around under the stars.

  -overall, he's a big fluffy teddy bear, always wanting to shower you in kisses wherever he can reach. sam, bucky, tony and nat always tease him for being so touchy, which resulted in pillows being thrown at their heads.

  -the first time he told you loved you, he did so by writing it on the fogged up mirror before the two of you got in the shower. he covered the bed in rose petals and he’s told you he loves you every day since.

[fictionalmenmistress]

The Private Library

... Of Fictional Men Mistress

Welcome! This post serves as my digital private library... my most beloved collection. None of these works are mine, and all credit is due to the lovely and incredible minds that created these works of art; (which you will find next to their titles, once you choose a category). This is the home to my personal most favorites, and most beloved stories and fanfictions and blog posts I have read. I think about these daily... I adore these. They've made my life better. They've changed my life. They've kept me going during my lowest points in life, and I mean that. I reccomend all of these. These were written by the best writers in the world; true to character, perfectly immersive, so imaginative, feels like you are there.

All of these fanfictions, stories, character & show analysis, random tumblr posts, headcannons, and beloved writings of all types, will be listed in no distinct order, inside their categories. Please Enjoy; explore them all! 🖤🗝☕🥂

The Majorety of these reccomends are for mature audiences, 18+, so if you are a minor, please DO NOT read through these reccomends yet.

Choose a vinyl playlist!

What genre of fandom writing do you want to spin on the turntable???

NOTE: NO LINKS ON THIS LIST ARE CURRENTLY ACTIVE! LISTS ARE BEING FINISHED, AND LINKS WILL BE ADDED TO THIS LIST ALL AT ONCE, VERY SOON. PLEASE CHECK OUT MY OTHER MASTERLISTS, PINNED TO MY BLOG, AND SAVE THIS GOODIE FOR LATER! 😉

• Favorite STARWARS Reccomendations: (The Clone Wars, Prequels, Sequels, The Bad Batch) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite BTS Reccomendations: (mostly Taehyung, Namjoon, Yoongi, Jungkook, Jin, Hoseok) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite TMNT Reccomendations: (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Bayverse Turtles, 80s, 2003 TMNT, Rise of the TMNT, 2007 TMNT) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite MARVEL Reccomendations: (MOON KNIGHT, WandaVision, LOKI, Loki Laufeyson, Avengers, XMEN, Wolverine, VENOM) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite LIE TO ME* Reccomendations: (Dr. Cal Lightman, Tim Roth *actor*) Headcannons / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite THE BOYS Recommendations: (Billy Butcher, The Boys Team) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite MY HERO ACADAMIA Reccomendations: (Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto, Kirishima Enji, Dabi) Analysis / Headcannons / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite Good Omens Reccomendations: (Anthony J. Crowley *The Demon*, Aziraphale A.Z. Fell *The Angel*) Analysis / Headcannons / Fanfictions 🖤

• Favorite "Warden" Hwajin Na *Get Schooled Webtoon* Reccomendations: Analysis / Headcannons / Fanfiction / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite Tom Hiddleston Reccomendations: (Tommy Hiddles *actor*) Headcannons / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite What We Do In The Shadows Reccomendations: (Vladislav The Poker, Viago Von Dorna Schmarten Scheden Heimburg, Deacon Bruke, Stu, Nick "Twilight", Anton The Werewolf, Nandor The Relentless, Guillermo De La Cruz, Lazlo Cravensworth, Nadjia of Axtapos, Colin Robinson) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite SHERLOCK Reccomendations: (Sherlock Holmes *BBC*, John Watson, classic sir arthur conan doyle books) analysis / fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite DC COMICS Recommendations: (BATMAN, The Batfamily, Nightwing, Robin, The Teen Titans) analysis / fanfictions 🖤

• Favorite Impractical Jokers Reccomendations: (The Tenderloins comedy troupe, Brian "Q" Quinn, Sal Vulcano, James S. "MURR" Murray, Joe Gatto) Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite Portal Recommendations: (Portal, Portal 2, Wheatley, Chell, the Cores) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite Ghostbusters Reccomendations: (Dr. Egon Spangler, Dr. Ray Stanz, Dr. Peter Venkman, Winston Zeddermore) Analysis / Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite AVATAR (Na'vi) Reccomendations: (Jake Sully, Neteyam Sully) Analysis / Headcannons / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite Stranger Things Reccomendations: (Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington) Headcannon / Fanfictions / NSFW & SMUT 🖤

• Favorite Tumblr Posts: (random, deep & intellectual, movie, life, advice, or most comedic posts, that make tumblr the greatest platform of all) 🖤

>>> Return to Main Masterlist?

[colorsunimaginable]

the spare // chapter twenty-five // death eater ! tom hiddleston x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary: While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord’s triumph, she’s being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy’s younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance’s greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this chapter: 5.2k warnings for this chapter: bullying, hints at sexual abuse, degradation of plus size POV character, drugging/lust potions

Notes: Hello everyone who's read so far! Thank you for keeping up with this every week. I'd much appreciate your thoughts! You can send an ask or even a message if you wanna talk about this. I'm writing this story because it's the exact kind of thing I'd want to read, so I'm always happy to gush and fangirl about it 😅 Much love 💕

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Twenty-Five:

I spend the next 24 hours trying to convince myself that I was crazy.

Crazy enough to have imagined that whole conversation between myself and Thomus. He actually admitted to being possessive of me? Yeah, sure, the hints weren’t exactly subtle, but I just can’t figure out why. Still.

And I don’t think that I could ever admit this to him, but I’m definitely grateful for the new vinyl. Listening to the Dean Martin record makes me feel like I’m in the movie Return to Me. His voice is so sickly romantic that I can almost forget all the goddamn trauma I’ve been through the last couple of months – no, the last couple of years.

The dress I pick out is an emerald green double slit dress. The slits go up so high I have to find a matching pair of high waisted undies so if they did show, it’d look like part of the dress. The sleeves are roomy and sheer. The dress is borderline a size too big, but I’m okay with it. There’s just enough give in the places I need. Even though I’m wearing those platform sandals again, the hem of the dress still manages to find its way under my foot as I walk around my room, looking for the gold collar.

Thomus is waiting for me on the couch by the time I descend to the living room, lifting the skirt enough so I don’t trip. “Hey, do you remember what I did with that necklace?” I ask him.

He doesn’t look at me as he stands. His hand digs into his pocket before he pulls out the necklace. He sees the hand I hold out for it and pauses with his fingers on the clasp. His eyes jump to my face before dropping lower. They trail over my shoulders, the cleavage the deep neckline provides, and down further, staring.

“You alright there, Mr. Possessive?” I tease, raising an eyebrow.

His eyes snap back to my face and he scowls. “Don’t call me that. Turn around.”

I stifle a grin, turning and pulling my hair to the side. “Sure thing, Thomus.”

Damn, I sure was being brave after avoiding him for two weeks. The smile teasing my mouth dies when I feel his warm fingers and the cool metal touch my skin. He’s standing so close I’m sure that when I turn around, it’ll be too close. I try to keep my breathing even.

The moment his hands leave my skin, the choker tightens around my neck. It’s something I’m used to at this point. When I turn, I expect his eyes on me, but instead they’re focused on another golden chain he’s holding. Before I can realize what he’s doing, Thomus reaches up for the necklace and fiddles with the middle of it. I listen to the sound of metal attaching to metal and when he pulls his hand away, that additional chain is dangling down my chest. The other end of it is twisted around his fingers.

My widening eyes jump to his face. I gasp as he grasps where the chain and the collar meet at my neck. His grip is tight and when he pulls me towards him, I’m helpless to resist. My hands brace themselves against his forearms. He bends his head, bringing his face only a breath away from mine. His blue eyes are dark and his eyebrows are knitted together, bitter mouth curling.

“I want to make a few things clear,” he says, his voice low and threatening. My chest tightens, heaving against his. “If you ever pull another reckless stunt like that again, putting myself and my family in jeopardy, there will be consequences far more severe than taking an unpleasant walk down memory lane.” His eyes roam from mine to my mouth, taking his time on the way back. I feel when his chest expands with a deep breath. “Your shocking lack of propriety was an embarrassment and it will not be tolerated. From now on, I expect you to be obedient and submissive.” He tugs once on the decorative-turned-literal collar. “Do you understand me?”

Blood rushes to my face as I let his words soak in my mind. Had this been a few weeks ago, I’d have fought something like this tooth and nail. But… I did this. This is a natural consequence to my abuse of the “freedom” I’d sparingly been given. I only made things worse for myself. I close my eyes and turn my face down, swallowing around the dryness in my mouth as I nod.

He tugs on the collar again and states flatly, “I don't think I heard you. Do I need to repeat myself?”

“I understand.” I can’t bear to make my voice louder than a whisper.

“Good,” he says, stepping back, releasing the collar but still holding the leash. “Things should be… simpler tonight. We’re going to a dinner and then leaving.”

“Does that have something to do with what Draco wanted me for?” I ask, swallowing down my self-hatred for the moment and finally looking back up at him.

“Partly,” he says. He turns for the door and I follow as far as the leash will allow, which is only about four feet. I bunch as much of the dress’s skirt in my hands as we head for the gate. Somehow I still manage to tread on the fabric at least once.

“Why does Pansy have more of a choice than I do?” I ask. Thomus stops and turns so suddenly that I almost walk into him.

His eyes are narrow. “How long were you eavesdropping?”

“Long enough.” I wait for him to answer my first question but he doesn’t. He pushes my dress sleeve back to reveal the tattoo and soon enough we’re popping into the familiar Apparition point in Edinburgh.

“Who’s Pansy to Draco?” I ask as we begin to make our ascent.

He scans our surroundings, I’m assuming to making sure we’re alone before answering. “They dated while in school.”

“She’s his ex?” I ask, surprise turning my volume up. “Can you imagine being in the body of your ex-boyfriend’s new love interest? God, I’m cringing at the thought.”

Thomus gives a tight yank on my collar and I stumble forward. “Shut up,” he orders sharply. His pace picks up and I begin to stumble more. The dress really is just too long.

After repeatedly having to stop and pause for me to right myself, Thomus stops us. He leads me off the dimly lit path by the wrist. Before I know what’s happening, he’s waving his wand in front of me and my breath leaves me as I feel the fabric shrink over my skin. Instead of being comfortably loose it’s now too tight; the sleeves are no longer roomy and the skirt is shorter. The torso of the dress now clings to my curves and rolls. If the fit had been this snug initially, I would have immediately picked something else.

“Oh, no no no no no,” I say, panic clear in my voice. “Change it back!”

He ignores me and pulls me back onto the path by the chain. As we walk, I feel every dip of the fabric now showing off parts of me that I normally try so desperately to hide. Attention’s already going to be on me because of the last time I was here and now this stupid fucking collar. I don’t need to embarrass myself further by showing off things that really should be kept hidden.

I grab my him by the elbow, digging my heels into the dirt. “Please change it back.”

“And have you trip all the way up to the castle?” he sneers. “You look just fine.”

My fingers dig into his arm. “I’m too exposed now!” I whisper loudly, my face is hot with embarrassment and panic.

The lamp post on the path emits enough light to show his incredulous expression. “Since when have you been insecure about your body?”

“Since always!” I hiss, my eyes pleading with him. “I’m always comparing what I look like to everyone else. People are going to see me in this too-tight dress and laugh.”

“What is there to laugh about?” he asks, his eyes focused below my face. “You look –“

“Like a big fat erumpant in a dress!” I exclaim. “My tits are gonna fall out and I don’t even wanna think about how noticeable my fupa is righ –“

His attention snaps back to my face. “Your what?”

“My stomach!” I step back, waving my hand in reference to it.

He rolls his eyes and a contemptuous laugh slides out of his mouth. “I’m plenty aware of that part of you, I assure you.”

I can't stop the blush that blooms across my face and I bristle. I open my mouth to speak but a familiar voice comes up the path behind us. 

"Everything alright, uncle?" Draco's bright blond head appears out of the darkness. My eyes widen when I see who appears behind him up the narrow path. Whether instinctively or not, Thomus's arm snakes around my waist, his hand resting on my pronounced hip as we turn to his nephew and the girl now on his arm.

Hermione is an absolute vision. Her curls are perfectly shaped, each coil glossy and shining as they cascade around her shoulders. The makeup looks like it had been painted onto her face by a professional. Smokey eyes and bright red lipstick to match the polish on her nails. The black slip she wears hugs every single curve.

"We're fine," Thomus says, "Just dealing with a little wardrobe malfunction."

I’m almost convinced it’s actually Hermione until I see her expression. A perfectly arched brow as her gaze drops to assess my appearance, a smug smile tugging at her mouth. It’s a look I’ve gotten all my life from girls who assessed my worth based solely on what I look like. It quickly told me that no matter how nice or sincere I was in my attempt to make friends, they’d never want to be my friend. And yeah, I know I’m judging them just as much as they’re judging me, but my judgement isn’t based on appearances, it’s on how they treat me. Girls who give me that look treat me like dogshit.

The Hermione I know isn’t like that at all, and so this must be Pansy. I had limited interactions with her in the holding cell. She mostly kept to her corner.

“Shall we continue on, then?” Draco says.

Thomus moves us out of their way. “After you.”

We follow them the rest of the way up the hill to the castle. To my chagrin, I don’t trip anymore.

“Thomus,” I whisper his name once, my tone pleading.

“Enough!” he hisses back over his shoulder, and I’m given no choice but to drop the subject.

In the castle, it practically doesn’t matter that Thomus is leading me by a golden leash. The end of the chain fisted in his hand is the arm I have my hands wrapped around, keeping him close to me. We follow Draco’s blond head through the crowd towards the back door I’d seen him disappear into before.

We almost make it until someone claps Thomus on the back, shoving themselves right into our path. “Thomus!”

To my utter horror, it’s Avery. I keep my face turned and hidden behind Thomus’s shoulder as he greets him.

“We haven’t seen you since that unfortunate incident with my Lot in The Lounge,” Avery says. You’d think he’s asking about last week’s Quidditch game, based on his casual tone. “I assume your busy schedule has kept you away.”

“It has,” Thomus says, his voice every bit the polite gentleman he was raised to be. I keep my eyes on the floor, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might look my way. “If you’ll excuse us, we’re –“

“I’d been meaning to ask why you left in such a hurry the other week,” Avery cuts in, his tone also polite. “I was hoping you’d take the opportunity to give us a demonstration on discipline.”

My heart lurches in my chest and I have to remind myself to breathe, even if they were shallow.

“Discipline?” comes Thomus’s voice. “I’m not quite sure what you mean.”

Avery’s chuckle sounds a bit bewildered. “You don’t mean to tell me you’ve forgotten the part your own Lot played during that incident?”

“Of course not,” Thomus responds sharply. “I simply prefer to administer discipline in private, you understand.”

“Of course, of course…” Avery trails. I jump when two fingers run themselves down my arm. Turning my face out from behind Thomus’s shoulder, my eyes land on Avery, and I find his dark gaze lingering on me. “I’m merely interested in your methods. As you may have noticed, public humiliation is a favorite of mine.”

“Yes, it was rather difficult to look away from such a display,” Thomus agrees. “But I prefer something a little more intimate.” His voice had dropped a little at the end of his words and I look up to find his eyes on me as well. He smirks and turns back to Avery. “As I’m sure you can imagine.”

“Admittedly, I have a terrible imagination,” Avery says, looking at me as he speaks. “I’d love to hear details. Or, perhaps even a private lesson?” His sinister tone indicates his desire has nothing to do with attraction, but to see women brutalized. He looks back to Thomus, holding both his hands up, a playful smile on his face. “No touching, I promise. I wouldn’t want to interfere with your procedure. I merely just want to watch.”

I feel Thomus’s chest expand before he lets out a single breathy laugh. “I’m afraid you might be out of luck. I prefer to dish out punishments when they’re deserved. Our… session was quite thorough. I doubt Alder will need teaching again. At least for a while.”

Avery lets out a long, disappointed sigh. “Ah, what a shame. She reminds me of a girl I knew in my youth, you know.” He conjures a cigar and lights it with his wand. “More than a little plump with a whole lot of spirit.” He takes a couple puffs, letting the smoke cloud in front of us. I resist the urge to cough. “A majority of my teen years was spent breaking her, in more ways than one. I – Jugson! What’re you doing with that?”

While Avery’s attention was drawn elsewhere, we make our escape and continue on our intended path towards the back of the room. There’s a winding staircase and I’m forced to let Thomus get a view of my butt while making our ascent.

“About time,” says a boy at the top of the stairs, in front of a doorway. He pulls out his wand when we reach him. Thomus holds out his left hand, which bore an emerald ring on his pinky. The boy taps the end of his wand to the stone and the tip turns green. Then he turns to me, tapping his wand on my collar, and it emits a golden glow. I guess we pass whatever security check that is, and he steps aside to let us through.

“I thought you got lost, uncle,” says Draco from his seat at the far end of a long dinner table. Boys about Draco’s age sit in the rest of the spots, with girls dressed similarly to Hermione/Pansy standing behind their chairs against the wall.

“Got held up,” Thomus says, taking the only empty seat on Draco’s left. “How’s everyone this evening?”

“Much better now that you’re here!” replies Marcus Flint from the opposite end of the table. He flashes a wide grin, his head cocks as he eyes the chain leading from my neck to Thomus’s hand. “And what have we here?”

Thomus makes a show of putting the loop at the end of the chain onto a knob on the back of his chair. “Just taking the dog for a walk,” he says, a smile tugs his lips. The boys around the table laugh, but it’s not a punch to the gut as much as the fact that Thomus is the one who just said that. He doesn’t meet my eyes as he sits down.

Flint snaps his fingers, drawing my attention to him. He looks from me to the table. A quick look around the room tells me the girls are holding wine decanters similar to the one in front of Thomus. I reach around it to grab it and notice everyone else’s goblets are full, but Thomus’s isn’t. I fill his up before stepping back, decanter in hand.

“At least she’s smarter than she looks,” Flint chuckles. “Even if she does have a problem with impulse control.”

The boys snicker and before Flint can say anymore, Draco takes his goblet and lifts it.

“To the Dark Lord’s power. May he reign forevermore.”

Everyone follows suit and repeats the toast. Conversation around the table picks up, turning boisterous and simple. I can only assume everyone here was at Hogwarts together. The only other faces I recognize are Goyle and… and Montague. He sits to Flints left, the opposite position from where Thomus sits, his demeanor quiet. This is the first time I’ve seen him since… that. His face rattles the box in my mind, but otherwise I’m not feeling a particular rush of emotion. Good to know boxing up my memories about it was worth it.

My eyes wander to the girls around the room. There are only a few faces I know from the holding cell. Clearwater, Bones, and Mortensen.

A boy stands to begin carving a large roasted turkey in the middle of the table. Each girl takes turns approaching him to take a plate to their… escorts. When it’s my turn, Thomus makes a show of placing the end of the leash in my own hand before allowing me to walk around the table. I hear some of the boys talk as I wait for the plate, their gazes turned up to me. I try to keep my face blank and my eyes unfocused.

“She kind of reminds me of what we had for dinner last week –“

“You know, I think you’re right –“

“But she’s missing something isn’t she?”

One of them pulls out their wand and twirls it in my direction. I gasp as an apple is conjured into my mouth, my teeth sinking into it. They erupt in cruel laughter. I take the plate full of turkey the boy offers with one hand and pull the apple out of my mouth with the other, quickly chewing on the forced bite. Anger blooming through my chest, I slowly turn to the snickering boy with his wand still in his hand, and spit into his face.

“You fucking cunt -” The boy shoots to his feet, his wand pointed at me, as he wipes bits of chewed apple and saliva off of his face. Conversation pauses, tension hanging in the air as he glares at me.

“Alder!” Thomus bellows and our angry expressions meet from across the table. He snaps his fingers and I immediately return to him, placing the plate in front of him, the red apple rolling around on it. Just as I go to straighten, Thomus’s hand shoots out to tightly grip my jaw and turn my face to his. I avoid his eyes. “What did I tell you?” he hisses, then closer to my ear. “Do I need to take Avery up on his offer?”

My chest tightens and I quickly shake my head. I pull out of his grasp and put the metal loop back onto the knob on his chair, standing behind him.

“My apologies Bole,” Thomus says. He pulls out his wand and the mess on Bole’s face disappears.

“She ought to give up some head for that, Malfoy,” Bole says, sitting back down into his seat, glowering. “For free.”

Before Thomus can say anything, Draco snickers. “Get over it, Bole. You definitely deserved that one.”

I let out a deep exhale through my nose in relief as Bole huffs and conversation returns. A dark skinned boy to Draco’s right engages Thomus in conversation about Quidditch during his time at Hogwarts. I pick up that his name is Blaise.

I try to keep tabs on conversation as the meal goes on. Most of what I can hear is about Quidditch or they’re gossiping about people I don’t know. Several of the boys were already deep into their decanters, their Lots, Carrow or otherwise, made sure to keep their glasses full.

Eventually the boys start pulling the girls into their laps as they finished their main dish. The girls laugh with the boys, tolerating and some even enjoying their attention. The boys are so drunk and tipsy that they don’t mind when the girls begin to take food off of their plates and sip from their goblets. Even Pansy has taken a seat on Draco’s lap not without comments on how much more comfortable they seem tonight, compared to last week.

I’m the only one still standing. Thomus has not turned around or given any indication that he wants me in his lap like the other Lots. I’m not sure how comfortable I’d be there anyway.

“Are you excited about our festivities this evening, Thomus?” Marcus Flint calls over. He has his head cocked, a stupid little smirk on his face. “I hear you’ve finally decided to see what it’s like.”

My chest tightens again and I keep my eyes on the back of his head, anxiously waiting for his answer. They have to be talking about Flint’s potion.

“Indeed,” Thomus responds, his fingers drift up and down on his wine goblet. “Though I will admit I’m still reluctant to believe what they claim.”

Someone snickers, choking in an effort to swallow. His lot pats him on the back. “How can you not believe? You haven’t seen it with your own eyes how they go absolutely wild?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t,” Thomus says, his voice cool. “And I don’t doubt it performs splendidly. Allow me to rephrase, I’m reluctant to believe it’s better than the real thing.”

“The real thing?” Flint snorts. “They’re not fabricated.”

Thomus tilts his head. “So you’re telling me that Clearwater would react the same to your advances without the potion?”

Penelope’s face turns scarlet and Flint’s expression flashes into a bitter sneer. “Do you prefer your conquest unwilling, Thomus? There are several among our flock that would agree with you.”

Montague shifts uncomfortably in his seat. No surprise there.

Thomus sighs heavily. “No, it’s not that at all. I simply believe it superfluous for my Lot. A good snog gets her all riled up.”  

Flint plasters a tight smile to his face. “We shall see what you think after tonight.”

Thomus lifts his goblet in his direction, nodding before taking a sip. Their conversation ends, while Draco, Thomus and Blaise begin a conversation on which potions professor was better: Slughorn or Snape. As they debate, my ears pick up on conversation from the boys to Thomus’s left.

“I bet you she’s so willing because no one ever bothered to snog her before.”

“I got some mates who only go after homely girls like her. They’re an easy shag. Practically let you do anything to ‘em.”

“Milly Bulstrode’s the same way. Remember that party during sixth year?”

“Yeah.”

“She got shared by Ravenclaw’s beaters in the library by the end of the night. Had both of them at the same time - one for both ends, you see.”

“That’s foul. Why would you put something like that in my head?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of them nod to me and then they’re both looking at me over their shoulders. I grit my teeth to keep my face expressionless, pretending like I hadn’t just been listening to their conversation. “How you reckon he shags her without a potion himself?”

“Maybe he can’t find it under all that and just stuffs his cock wherever it’ll fit.”

“He’s not even let her on his lap. I bet she –“

“Warrington,” Montague says from across the table and the boys talking about me turn into a different conversation.

Without their eyes on me, I briefly close my own, fighting back the tears threatening to fall. My lips press tight together to keep from trembling. I fucking hate it here.

I’m so wrapped up in my self-deprecating thoughts that I don’t notice when Thomus takes the end of the lash off the chair. He pushes back his chair, angling it do he can still see the length of the table. He pulls on the leash, his left arm reaching for my hip, and I take the nonverbal cue to go to him. After putting the decanter on the table, I brace my right arm on the back of the chair and gingerly lower myself into his lap, making sure not to put too much of my weight onto his thighs. I face the table, one leg and thigh fully on him, the other partial, bracing the rest of my weight on my own foot. Feeling steady, I release the chair and drape my arm across the back of his shoulders.

 Being this close to him is giving me monkey brain. His scent is wafting up my nose, more powerful than the smell of their meal in the room. I’m hyperaware that my thighs are completely exposed up to my hip. I try to distract myself by counting the dark curls pushed back away from his face. My fingers itch to touch them.

“It boils down to preference in teaching styles –“

“You only liked Snape because he played favoritism –“

“No, he did not –“

“Is that all your weight?” Thomus asks, his eyes suddenly meeting mine as he glances at my way. I have a hard time deciphering his tone, unable to tell if he’s mocking me or being genuine. I lie and nod my head. He finishes the rest of his drink and runs his hand down my thigh that still has my foot braced on the floor. He must be able to feel the tension there because he sighs heavily.

“Liar,” he says before directly placing his hand on the side of my left leg, directly where my thigh and knee meet. He pulls, sliding me further up his legs, flush against his torso. I lose the load baring stance I had, my weight now fully on his lap. His arm is tightly wrapped around my waist and he casually pours himself more wine, as if this didn’t bother him at all.

I look down, needing to remind myself to breathe, and I take in how tight the dress is stretched over my stomach, everything far more pronounced now that I’m sitting. Even my cleavage looks ready to burst. Thomus had let the leash fall limply into my lap and the chain is nestled right in the crevice.

I clench the end of the chain tightly in my fist and my eyes drift to Draco and the girl in his lap. Hermione is so beautiful – Pansy’s confidence in her body only makes her more so. I wonder if Bellatrix was beautiful like that once. If that’s what lured Thomus in. At the thought my chest rises with a shuddering breath and I just want to die. I turn my face towards the window, trying to blink away tears and hopelessness.

“Have you eaten anything today?” he asks softly, his mouth still too close to my ear. I avoid his eyes, still blinking rapidly, as I shake my head.

He reaches out to his plate, retrieving a single green grape. I don’t realize what he’s doing until the grape grazes my lip and I jerk my head away slightly. I give him a tight-lipped polite smile and take the fruit from his fingers, then pop it into my own. My eyes flicker up to the table, spotting the exact moment a Carrow girl brings a grape to her lips. Her eyes linger on me briefly before she turns her attention back to the boy who’s lap she’s in.

Not alone.

When I don’t immediately grab another grape, Thomus brings one to my lips again. I give him another polite smile and push his hand down before taking the grape. He doesn’t need to encourage me to eat anymore as I slowly finish the grapes off of his plate.

“Alright, gentlemen,” Flint announces. Penelope slides off his lap and goes to a small table in the corner of the room. “I think we’ve been patient enough, don’t you think?”

A round of a agreements come from the boys and Penelope starts passing out shot glasses with a green potion in it. My heart pounds in my ears as my face gets hot. I focus on taking deep, even breaths to stave off the panic from my face. Penelope places on in front of us and unlike the rest of the Lots, I don’t immediately touch it grab it.

I look to Draco and Pansy, the whole reason she’s even here, is because of this. She knew what she was getting herself into. They’d prepared with an antidote. The boys’ eager, hungry eyes are on the fake Hermione as she takes the glass in her hands. It’s not going to be difficult, because Draco and Pansy dated, so I’m assuming being intimate with each other isn’t something they’re unfamiliar with.

But what is Thomus planning? Is he really going to make me take it? Draco had said I’d take the antidote beforehand, and that’s definitely not something I’d done before coming tonight. Am I going to lose my virginity in front of all these people?

Maybe the potion will strip away my inhibitions and anxiety about the whole thing. Maybe taking the potion for my first time will be a good thing. Maybe it’ll give me the confidence I’ve sorely been lacking tonight.

I watch - partly shocked, partly resigned - as Thomus plucks a hair off of his head and drops it into the potion. I can’t read his face, his mask is on. The rest of the boys do the same. I reach out for the glass, watching the liquid tremble as I bring it close to my mouth.

“Ready ladies?” Flint asks. The girls raise their glasses and silently toast each other before shooting down the potion. It still rests in my hand.

Thomus brings his lips to my ear. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, his breath hot. His hand not on my waist strokes my thigh. “Everything’s going to be alright.” Whether for show or genuine encouragement, I don’t know, he kisses my jaw.

He pulls back and when our eyes meet I take a another deep breath and bring the lust potion to my lips.