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juliatulia · 5 months

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I didn't pay attention to the Housman bit on Autobiography, so I would love to hear your thoughts on that :)

Sorry for the late reply but here it is.

The * followed by parenthesis are my thoughts, the rest is directly from Morrisseys Autobiography.

Excerpt from Autobiography:

and, wrongly, unnecessarily, this child weeps, full of the foolish

embarrassment that his father has clearly marked out. New air is discovered

in the words of A. E. Housman (1859–1936), scholar-poet, vulnerable and

complex. On the day of his twelfth birthday his mother dropped dead,

sealing a private future of suffering for Housman, who was said to be a

complete mystery even to those who knew him. *(Whom are we talking about??) With no interest in

applause or public recognition, Housman published three volumes of

poetry, each one of great successful caress, each a world in itself, forcing

Housman into the highest literary ranks. A stern custodian of art and life, he

shunned the world and he lived a solitary existence of monastic pain,

unconnected to others. *(Again, whom?) The unresolved heart worked against him in life, but

it connected him to the world of poetry, where he allowed (in)complete

strangers under his skin. *(One know others by how one knows oneself) In younger years he had suffered from the

unrequited love of Moses Jackson, the pain of which was so severe that it

doomed Housman for the rest of time. *(Swap the names and it could be Steven Patrick talking about himself) All of his work would be governed

by this loss, as if life could only ever offer one chance of happiness (and

perhaps, for every shade and persuasion, it does?):

*(So, Morrissey introduces Housman as someone who has unhappiness thrust upon him (but he could also have been a moody melancholic from birth, who knows?). Life delt him bad cards, but used the unhappiness to create art that others found comforting. He clearly identifies with him. And the last part of the paragraph….. Words fail me. )

When the bells justle in the tower

The hollow night amid,

Then on my tongue the taste is sour

Of all I ever did

Housman suffered throughout his life, and therefore (and not surprisingly)

his life became an unyielding attempt not to cooperate. The black horizon

never shifted, and his emotional lot never mellowed.

*(Moses Jackson was very aware of Housmans feelings for him. If I remeber correctly when Moses married his wife, they didnt tell Alfred Edward until after the event (They also left the country). Jackson knew it would crush Housman. )

He would not stay for me; and who can wonder?

He would not stay for me to stand and gaze.

I shook his hand and tore my heart in sunder

and went with half my life about my ways.

At his Wildean lowest, Oscar’s personal sadness had never slumped to such

leaden fatigue; Housman suffered and accepted, death always close in his

mind’s eye – but not regrettably so.

I did not lose my heart in summer’s even,

When roses to the moonrise burst apart:

When plumes were under heel and lead was flying,

In blood and smoke and flame I lost my heart.

I lost it to a soldier and a foeman,

A chap that did not kill me, but he tried;

That took the sabre straight and took it striking

And laughed and kissed his hand to me and died.

The published poetry makes the personal torture just barely acceptable. The

pain done to Housman allowed him to rise above the mediocre and to find

the words that most of us need help in order to say. The price paid by

Housman was a life alone; the righteous rhymer enduring each year unloved

and unable to love:

Shake hands, we shall never be friends, all’s over:

I only vex you the more I try.

All’s wrong that ever I’ve done and said,

And nought to help it in this dull head:

Shake hands, here’s luck, goodbye.

But if you come to a road where danger

Or guilt or shame’s to share,

Be good to the lad that loves you true

And the soul that was born to die for you

And whistle and I’ll be there.

*(The poem is so true to the Morrissey folio. A strong friendship/connection/relationship is no longer what it once was and distance is imminent between the object and the subject. But should anything happen, "danger or guilt or shame to share" you know I will be there for you. )

It’s easy for me to imagine Housman sitting in a favorite chair by a barely

flickering gas fire, the brain grinding long and hard, wanting to explain

things in his own way, monumental loneliness on top of him, but with no

one to tell. The written word is an attempt at completeness when there is no

one impatiently awaiting you in a dimly lit bedroom – awaiting your tales

of the day, as the healing hands of someone who knew turn to you and touch

you, and you lose yourself so completely in another that you are

momentarily delivered from yourself. Whispering across the pillow comes a

kind voice that might tell you how to get out of certain difficulties, from

someone who might mercifully detach you from your complications. When

there is no matching of lives, and we live on a strict diet of the self, the

most intimate bond can be with the words that we write:

*(Here author and subject almost merge into one. Drawing the line where subject and author meets is almost impossible. I become you and you become me. When there is no one to whom one can bestow all ones affection on, the page becomes the active listener. )

Oh often have I washed and dressed

And what’s to show for all my pain?

Let me lie abed and rest:

Ten thousand times I’ve done my best

And all’s to do again.

I ask myself if there is an irresponsible aspect in relaying thoughts of pain

as inspiration, and I wonder whether Housman actually infected the

sensitives further, and pulled them back into additional darkness. Surely it

is true that everything in the imagination seems worse than it actually is –

especially when one is alone and horizontal (in bed, as in the coffin).

Housman was always alone – thinking himself to death, with no matronly

wife to signal to the watching world that Alfred Edward was now quite

alright – for isn’t this at least partly the aim of scoring a partner: to trumpet

the mental all-clear to a world where how things seem is far more important

than how things are? Now snugly in eternity, Housman still occupies my

mind. His best moments were in Art, and not in the cut and thrust of human

relationships. Yet he said more about human relationships than those who

managed to feast on them. You see, you can’t have it both ways.

*(We have to wonder why Morrissey included this in the book at all. When most authors writes their autobiography, they chronologically write about what happened to them, who they saw, or write about details about their life in descriptive detail (which in my opinion is quite dull and very little engaging as a reader). But Morrissey deviates from this enormously. He includes pieces of what made him the way he is(!). Why would he include long pieces about Melanie Safka, Buffy Sainte-Marie or W. H. Auden? Not interesting in itself to read about someone some person read a long time ago, but all these pieces gives us hints of who Steven Patrick Morrissey is.

The interesting part about including A. E Housman is how much Morrissey writes about his life, not just the poetry. I think this is the key to understanding the excerpt above. He both admire and recognise how life and art blend together and how they affect each other.

About Housmans later life, Moses Jackson died before him. Jackson suffered from cancer I think and knew he was going to die. Housman later wrote in a letter to a friend where he said: "I could not leave him behind in a world where anything might happen to him". He was a wealthy man from his academic work and became a patron of Jacksons son. He paid for his education when he didn't have to, but probably felt an obligation.

Why do we have such a lengthy part in the book about an unhappy man who lived all his life inlove with a man he fell in love with in his youth???

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ You tell me 🤓🤓

)

#here it finally is #sorry about the delay #tumblr doesnt work on desktop for me. had to type this for hand 🙁#thank you for whomever sent me the ask ive been meaning to write something about this for such a long time #fave moment in autobiography especially when you listen to the audiobook version #david morrissey understood the task ❤#please let me know what you think #morrissey #johnny marr #autobiography

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chaoticspacefam · 6 months

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Darth Zash and Darth Marr for the blorbo bingo?

Good choices!! Here we goooo 💪

Zash has gotta be one of my favourite antagonists in the entire game tbh. I am not surprised that she got bingo (and almost got double bingo. I cannot in good conscience call her a babygirl. She's more girlboss energy to me, yk? 🤣)

And Marr would have gotten bingo if any of the other squares had been where "don't go to therapy" was. (@serenofroses HC Marr is ❤️‍🔥 but my ace lesbian ass is not gonna fuck canon!Marr. he is just. dad. to me :P) So, nearly double bingo for Marr but yeah. I love him very much.

#swtor sort of #blorbo bingo ask game #darth zash #darth marr #thank you for the ask!#a-master-procrastinator

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hergan416 · 5 months

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Writer's wrap: 30

AO3 Writer's Wrap (still accepting)

This is honestly a great one for now because it's not even Christmas, I guarantee I'll write more before the year is out.

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Honestly-- how much I wrote. And I mean this as more than just "oh I hit a surprising number of words" it's like... HOW I wrote so much.

I don't think I particularly grew as a writer this year. In previous years I have participated in challenges and honed my craft and really worked hard to make quality writing. Writing... kind of hurt like that. There was a lot of stress to it. I had been asked by friends or acquaintances on more than one occasion why I wrote as a hobby if it stressed me out so much.

And this year... well I won't say I never stressed myself out. The initial update schedule for Poison Paradise was insane. I don't know how I got inspiration to write a chapter a day for that many days. I am glad that scaled back a little.

But at the same time... even without looking, I guarantee you that I've surpassed 2020's word count while holding a full time job. And with hardly ever writing for an official challenge (Albert's birthday was my choice. There were a couple of very fun tumblr prompts & an angst week thing...but like. I have ALWAYS wanted to write hanahaki disease for someone & finally had a chance. And the Allou Trimester & Louiliam2023Winter at the end of the year here are extremely loose challenges with very few restrictions for pairings I would have written anyway.. and when the Louiliam fic ended up having a sherliam element & broke the rules I just.. didn't add it to the event and wrote what I wanted anyway).

Anyway, it was different from the way I treated challenges in previous years-- I wasn't stressed about it. I was having fun. Which is.. ultimately, what a hobby is supposed to be, right?

My word count has to be directly tied to the amazing, positive people I have met in the last 10 months -- who let me be my authentic self and still come back for more. I have never been more unhinged, written more dead dove, let loose like this. I've never been more freakish; and at the same time I have been gifted with the most incredible outpouring of kind words, comments, support, tumblr interactions, and readership. I cannot possibly thank this community enough for letting me thrive like this.

I feel free. I know what I want from writing and it's not perfection anymore. It is to float around on the internet and find my people, bouncing ideas around. It's like I've found my niche as a person.

And the hyperfixation might not always be yuumori. I just binged the rest of One Piece and caught back up and OH DO I HAVE IDEAS, and a friend is starting to drag me into Hetalia somehow, because "I would do good there" or something, although I'm not sure yet if I'll want to write for it. Wherever my interests go though, I feel like I can absolutely carry this energy with me into the future, even in different fandoms where it's harder to "make it." Because I have this sense of "self" and "belonging" and "worth" and "pride" that I had lost for a very long time.

Even if I write less in 2024, if I can keep this confidence moving forward, I will be happy.

#ask answered #thank you so much #(both marr for the ask and the fandom at large for just being who and what you are)

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oodlesofd00dles · 2 years

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I'm always asking for the boys...so this time, can I get a Mira or Visas or Handmaiden?

The girlies!

#thank you hnnny !!! :0 #my art #kotor 2 #the handmaiden #visas marr

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iamveronica · 1 year

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Thank you so much for uploading the interview of Moz talking about "Getting away with it"! It does kind of answer this question I've been pondering over which is Moz's opinion on Electronic. Him "worrying" about it kills me and it does fit with how I suspect Moz thought about Johnny after the breakup. No matter how much he tries to hide it, Moz is clearly obsessed with Johnny and that tends reverberate in both negative and positive ways, while generally this obsession clearly makes him act crazy or delusional 😭. I think at this time his attitude towards Johnny was more protective ("see Angel, Angel Down we go together") and the impression I get from his Autobiography and the interviews I have seen is that Moz would never attack Johnny's artistic credentials. In this interview,I feel, he reconciliates his feelings towards Johnny and his dislike of the music by showing worry and going after Neil Tennant instead. I hope I am making sense LMAO

I LOVE ALL YOUR THOUGHTS ON THIS. i've somewhat overanalyzed this subject (of Morrissey's overprotectiveness) in my attempt to rationalize the Open Letter to Johnny Marr (anniversary soon!). i do believe Moz has always loved, respected and remained loyal to Johnny. he would never diss his artistry, and i don't believe he ever has. but come on, you're still thinking about the man if his words reach you and wound you 35 whole years down the line. he obviously wanted the same courtesy extended from Johnny to him that he has to Johnny.

honestly, this Johnny interview really stuck out to me. he's embarking on a solo career and most of the questions to him are about his past and the Smiths and their potential reunion. and you think "wouldn't Johnny rather like to talk about his solo aspirations?" so Morrissey in his open letter had a point. it was well-intentioned. Would you please, instead, discuss your own career, your own unstoppable solo achievements and your own music?

the one thing that gave me pause in his response about Getting Away With It ("very apt title" LMFAOOO 💀) was Moz talking about artists who "fall into favor with people who expect nothing of them" and, obviously, he feels he's the antithesis of that (everyone expects so much of him and holds him up to impossible standards), but who really fell into favour in the Electronic lineup (was it Neil Tennant, Bernard Sumner or could it be Johnny who's always "had it easy" on account of being so affable? [*coughpeoplepleasercough*]). i feel like Moz's bitterness could be directed at any of them, although i do get the impression that Moz at least then held to the notion that Johnny's talents and easy-going nature got taken advantage of by his collaborators. (he probably did mean Neil.)

#MozMarrMakeUpIn2023

#marrissey #morrissey #johnny marr #thank you for enabling this word vomit #ask #satisfactory-dreams

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paranoidmayfly · 2 years

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my favorite genre of music is the kind that goes "im depressed and i want to kms" *sick guitar riff*

#thank you johnny marr for your services to music #tw suicide #just in case #don't be worried about me this is a funnypost

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luveline · 7 months

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gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing

thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k

Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated.

You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong.

"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?"

"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks.

Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach.

"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong."

"I'm just trying to figure something out."

This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance.

You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein.

He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?"

That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop.

"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something.

"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention."

He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights.

Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done?

You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time.

I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again.

You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears.

This is all so messy, and it's your fault.

I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me.

You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid.

—

The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help.

"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go."

He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention.

Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up.

He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell.

Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you.

"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it."

Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry."

Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel.

Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug.

He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes

He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon.

His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two.

"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset "

"I'm an idiot–"

"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"

"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–"

"I shouldn't have–"

"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away.

Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up."

He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into?

"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me."

Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says.

"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile.

"It's not okay."

"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even."

"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked."

"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?"

"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back."

You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better."

"I know, angel." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you."

What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful.

"Does it look really bad?"

"N–no. You look really pretty," he says.

"Are my eyes puffy?"

A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already."

"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to."

Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid."

"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask.

Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not."

You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure."

"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."

"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want."

"Can I give you a hug?" he asks.

You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it.

"That feels nice," you mumble.

He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?"

"Don't," you warn.

He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?"

"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it.

"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry, angel."

Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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buckyalpine · 11 months

Text

Bucky likes what he sees

Imagine Bucky goes out with the team for drinks, staying at the bar nursing on a drink while his eyes linger on the pretty girl in a red dress. It’s like she wanted his attention, the material hugging her body perfectly while her hips sway, her head tilted back when she laughs at something her friend says. They lock eyes for a second, and God does he love that smile-

“Why don’t you go over and talk to her” Sam nudged Bucky’s shoulder when he notices the pretty thing Bucky’s been eyeing, the girl equally flirty, giving him shy smiles every so often, “C’mon, she’s into you”

“Knock it off” Bucky huffed, shaking his head and going back to his drink while Steve takes his turn to encourage his bestfriend.

“Maybe buy her a drink, see how it goes” he offers but the deadpan look he gets back is enough for him to snort and raise his hands in defeat. Bucky is perfectly happy just watching, noting every dip and wine of her waist, her dress riding up ever so slightly with the movement of her body. His eye’s narrow when he sees someone try to sneak their hands on her from behind, only to be turned down when she moved away.

However the guy doesn’t seem to get it.

He’s back again, this time trying to grab her with more force, pushing his hips against her ass.

Bucky doesn’t like it.

Steve and Sam exchange knowing glances with each other when they see his jaw clench, the rest of the team also now quietly watching what the super solider would do. Nat and Tony noticed the sparkle of a diamond ring, huffing when she sees it’s on her ring finger.

“Isn’t that a wedding ring? Whole ass rock on her finger”

“Never mind, I think she’s marr-

Before they could say anything else, Bucky is on his feet, striding over to the dance floor, eyes locked on the man pawing at the doll that had his attention all night.

“Don’t touch my wife” Bucky growled, shoving the man off, letting him stumble onto the floor, his voice dying down immediately when he noticed who was towering over him. He scrambled away without looking back while the rest of the team stayed frozen in place, jaws all on the floor, watching Bucky pull you into him with ease. He smoothed down the red material of your dress, walking you over to the bar where there was a bit more light, hardly noticing everyone staring at you both.

“You okay, babydoll?” Bucky held your waist, looking you over, his fingers tracing over your face, his arm tightly hugging you.

“I’m okay” You nodded, standing on your toes to peck his lips, your hand’s resting on your husbands chest, nuzzling into him. “Wondered how long you’d last just sitting there” You giggled while he smirked, kissing the top of your head.

“Well, I didn’t do anything until someone touched you” Bucky pouted in defense, making you melt over how protective he was.

“Thank you for saving me Mr. Barnes” you whispered while he looked down at you with heart eyes, taking your hand in his, placing a kiss on the ring that sat on your finger, the one that he spent months picking and designing just for you.

“Wife?” Sam broke the silence while everyone else continued to look at you both in disbelief.

“Oh” Bucky blushed, blinking with owlish eyes, his baby blues pleading with you to take over because he doesn’t know what to say. “This-this is my wife, y/n” He tried to bite back a shy smile but it was no use, his cheeks dusted pink, feeling giddy and fuzzy with you beside him.

“Come again. Wife?”

“Uh-yeah” He tried to hide behind you through it was no use, his much larger and taller form still clearly visible.

“What’s terminator doing”

“This...this is the winter soldier everyone is so scared of..for fucks sake, are you trying to hide behind her?!”

“How long has this little secret been going on for”

“thryrs” Bucky mumbled but no one else hears it except for Steve, given his enhanced hearing.

“THREE YEARS?!”

“Steve, I can explain-

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES”

“Tony-

“YOU BITCH”

Bucky groaned, tucking his face into your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist, completely tongue tied. He was going to introduce you to the team at some point, he just didn’t imagine it would be like this, he also didn’t anticipate feeling this shy.

“You know you can blink twice if he’s been holding you hostage” Sam cackled at the way your 6ft soldier clung onto you, refusing to look at his friends, your hand gently patting his head, rolling your eyes at his antics.

“If it helps, he talks about you all of the time” You smiled, only to have Bucky frown on the inside for you exposing him.

“No, I don’t” His muffled voice vibrated against your neck, reluctantly pulling away, “Maybe only about Steve”

“Uh huh, sure”

“Well, as you can see, I didn’t need to talk to her, she’s already mine” Bucky grinned, kissing your cheek, his mind now fully focused on bending you over on the dance floor but-

“You’re not getting away that easily Barnes, sit down, we’ll ask the questions” Tony stated, while everyone moved to one side, leaving the other side empty for you and Bucky.

“Question 1. What’s your full legal name”

“James-

“LIAR”

“Steve-

“Bitch”

It was going to be a long night.

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eletricclown · 2 years

Text

The smiths r not one of my top bands but learning their songs on guitar is always so fun

#like they r jst good songs to learn to play not boring at all #thank you jonny marr #p

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beybaldes · 5 months

Text

*･゜ﾟ･* okay so more then one person (thank you anons and reblogs and comments <333) asked for it so… (also super special shout-out to my love @alwritey-aphrodite who’s talented mind is always full of the most perfect Sejanus thoughts and is always willing to talk them through with me <33)*･゜ﾟ･* mention of smut but non written

sejanus plinth as your oblivious boyfriend

- okay so first things first, the obliviousness very much comes across as innocence to most to people

- it definitely doesn’t help that he blushes every time you look at him or touch him or talk to him either

- wether reaching for your hand, kissing you, holding you, it doesn’t matter Sejanus’s cheeks are deep red and hot to the touch

- it’s ridiculously sweet and so Sejanus

- that’s something you notice really quickly into your relationship; that everything he does is just so… him

- one of those being the way he squeezes your hands to let you know he loves you because sometimes he struggles to get the words out (because he just gets speechless around you)

- or the way he will drag you into his lap at every given convenience because he loves it more then anything

“wait, there’s no more chairs, let me grab one.” You pressed a chaste kiss to Sejanus’s lips, missing the way his cheeks flushed as you turned to find an empty seat to bring to the table. “Be one second.”

“No need, sweetheart.” Sejanus wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling you into his lap with a soft thud. His arm almost immediately wrapped around your waist and squeezed, while the other moved from your wrist to your hand, playing with your fingers. He turns his head slightly to face yours, noses brushing at the suddenly closer proximity between the two of you - taking advantage of the position he finds himself in, Sejanus captures your lips with his in a soft, loving kiss. When he finally pulls away leaving your breathless, he looks a little disheveled, and you think you fall in love with him a little more. “Sorry Coryo, you were saying?”

- another of those being how he kisses you like there’s no tomorrow every damn time, like it’s the last time he’ll ever do it and he has to get all of his emotions out and into you

- fucks you like that too

- after your first kiss in the hallway of the academy however, it does take him a while to build up the confidence for him to kiss you without you initiating it (just like he had to with holding your hand)

- and when he finally initiates a kiss for the first time, it’s in his bedroom while Ma and Mr Plinth are downstairs

legs tangled together, your head against his chest, uniforms wrinkling as you cuddled further into each-other and Sejanus’s fingers ran through your hair. “And that one is andromeda.”He pointed at the glow in the dark stars that he and his ma had stuck to his bedroom ceiling when he first moved to the capital. “And beside her is Perseus. Two lovers immortalised in the stars forever.”

“How did they become lovers?” You asked, turning to look up at sejanus, your cheek pressing against his chest.

“They believe that on his way home from slaying Medusa, Perseus found Andromeda chained to a rock as she was supposed to be sacrificed to a sea god. But instead, he killed the sea monster, saved andromeda and married her.” Sejanus smiles and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve seen; something soft and all-consumed with the love he feels for you. “I think they are my favourite constellations.”

You leaned into the crook of his neck, pressing a kiss under his jaw, and then returning to your place against his chest, ear against his beating heart. “And why’s that Sej?”

He looked down at you, a soft smile pulling on his lips. “They remind me of us.” Before you could ask how they did, he continued with an explanation, his hand moving to cradle your face. “Feel like you found me… saved me. You saw the boy from the districts when no one else did, saved me from losing that part of me to the claws of the Capitol, and one day - if I’m lucky - maybe you’ll marry me too.”

When he finishes speaking the two to you are looking at each other, lips a hairs length apart and just begging to share a kiss. As you’re about to ask, Sejanus leans forward and puts his lips on yours - the first time he’s ever kissed you, rather then you kissing him - and it ignited a hunger in the pit of your stomach. Leaning into the kiss, you wrapped the arm that had previously been across his stomach around his neck, pulling yourself further up his body and into his touch. Sejanus aided in your mission, lifting you over him so that you now sat in his lap, lips never leaving the touch of the other the entire time. You have no doubt that the kids would’ve escalated further if it hadn’t been for the shout of his Ma calling the two of you for dinner.

when you finally pull away from each-other it’s with heaving chests, tousled hair, swollen lips and red cheeks. “you’re quite the charmer, sejanus, did you know?”

a laugh bubbled from Sejanus’s chest, his head tilting back and hitting the headboard gently as she admired you. “if the way you kissed me has anything to say on the matter, then, yes, yes I do.”

- dinner, this time at least, was still warm when you made it to the table to meet his parents for the first time as his partner

- however the first time you’d ever come over to the plinths house was just as his friend, but Ma had known from the moment she saw you, the two of you would end up together

- so had Strabo, not that he’d ever admit he cared enough to know

- you had been 9 years old and walked in their front door hand in hand with their son; who they’d so far assumed had made no real friends in the Capitol

- you had a wide and bright smile with two missing front teeth, and you didn’t even say hello, dragging Sejanus upstairs before he could even say anything to his own parents

- only when you’d finally got upstairs did you pause, turning to Sejanus with a laugh

“Which one is your room?”

- and when Ma called the two of you down for dinner, she finally heard you speak for the first time

“I loved those cookies you made Ma, did you learn how to make them in district 2?”

- that sentence alone had made her certain the two of you would be perfect for each other: not only had Sejanus shared his treats with you, but he’d been comfortable enough to talk about his life in district two with you

- sure, everyone knew the plinths were from two, but that was because of gossips and the arrival of new people to the capital(which never happened) but you were the first person he’d willingly told, and she knew that meant something

- Ma is literally your biggest supporter, always routing for the two of you to be together and happy

- ALWAYS calling you sweetheart, like nonstop 24/7, all day, everyday, everywhere

“sweetheart, you’ve got… here, lemme.” “um, actually, sweetheart…” “come ‘ere, sweetheart, let me get a closer look at that gorgeous face of yours.” “fuuuck, sweetheart, just like that, don’t stop, keep going.” “gimme a kiss, sweetheart.”

- however, when he’s not calling you sweetheart, Sejanus is loser bf incarnate

- like SUCH a loser but very much in an Andrew Garfield as Peter Parker kind of way

- you will be giving him every sign in the book, practically throwing yourself at him and he’ll just be like ‘what are we?’

- this doesn’t ever go away in the entire course of your relationship

- you’re very glad that you were so upfront about explaining your feelings for him initially because otherwise you know you wouldn’t have got together

- the first time you try and initiate anything more then kissing he had zero idea what was going on

‘sweetheart, what are you- ? I- ahhh- fuck- keep going.’

- literally never initiates anything for the first time because he lives in this constant state of ‘what if they don’t really like me :((((‘

- he’ll still be like that if you’re 80 and old and grey and married

- like there are 10 million things you love about him and he doesn’t understand a single one for some strange reason???? And is always doubting himself?????

it’s nearly midnight and Sejanus still can’t sleep. he’s tried, he really, really has - he’s tossed and turned, cracked open the window, counted sheep and tried drinking warm milk like his ma used to make, but nothing was working. the cool air of a mid summers night breezes through the bedroom as he turns on his side to face you, beautiful you. You who’s hair spreads out against the in a hall around your head, who is sleeping peacefully yet still turns into the warmth of Sejanus’s touch when he wraps an arm around you. He doesn’t know what he’s ever done or will do to justify the universe letting him be yours. He hopes in the darkest hour of the summers night he’ll never have to find out.

“You should take a picture.” You murmured, breaking the warmed silence of the room. “It’ll last longer.” a smile curled on your lips even as you kept your eyes closed, turning your head deeper into the soft pillow in hopes sleep would find you again. when it didn’t, Sejanus’s eyes still on you keeping you awake, you pulled yourself closer to him, eyes finally opening. “What’s wrong baby… can’t sleep?”

“Why are you with me?” Sejanus asked bluntly, face lacking the warmth it usually held. “Like, seriously, why? I don’t-“

you cut him off with a firm poke to his shoulder. “Don’t even go there.” A hand came up to caress his cheek, running along the smile lines that had only deepened with age. Sejanus leaned into your touch, eyes closing as he preened into the love that exuded from your palm alone. “I can’t name a single thing I don’t absolutely, completely, utterly and truly love about you.”

Your hand moved to run through his curls, still as dark as when you’d met him, but now with streaks of grey running through it. He looked so handsome growing old, especially at your side. “I love how kind and selfless you are, and how you stand up for what you think is right regardless of what others think. I love how you know who you are and how you know everyone you loves coffee order just in case. I love how your brows pinch when you’re confused or worried and how your smile lights up every room you walk in to. God, Sejanus, I’d marry you again, and again, and again, if I could.”

Sejanus pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, a slightly softer one immediately pressed to the skin just under your eyelid as soon as your lips left yours. “Thank you.” He whispered, as if saying it could make you take it all back. “I love you.”

- he’s so freaking in love with you

an : thanks for the love on the first part!! Hope you enjoyed mwah <33

tags : @marjorieisreading @celestialstar111 <33

#beybaldes hc !!#sejanus plinth oneshot #sejanus plinth imagine #sejanus plinth x reader #tbosbas x reader

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bl00dst41ned · 5 months

Text

✧ ˚ · . just another love song . · ˚ ✧

pairing: jude bellingham x black singer!reader

summary: in which you and jude go public for the release of a special song

author’s note: since sza does not want to release the song i’ll do it myself (rumors said the song will be released tomorrow i can't wait) (the blue means the username is id'd)

faceclaim: @ronisia_mds (d’ailleurs qu’elle se mette vite avec Tiakola, j’en ai marre de leur jeu d’acteur)

yourusername

Liked by jobebellingham and 2,854,721 others

yourusername diamond boy, why you so shiny ?

yn.fan the studio pic AAAHHHHHHH

craigxmitch babe who is he ?? 🥺🥺

→ yourusername oop- nellarose your “man” is acting up

→ nellarose waowww so this what we doing craig

→ craigxmitch wait- NO

yn_news NEW MUSIC ALERT I REPEAT NEW MUSIC

user1 y/n it's my birthday yourusername

→ yourusername happy birthday love

→ user1 OMGGGGG

jorjasmith you look gorg

→ yourusername thx i love u

judebellingham 😍

Liked by creator

yourbsf hey pretty girl

→ yourusername hey lover

judebells5 what is jude doing here ?

→ yntheonly that’s what i’m trying to figure out

judebellingham

Liked by harrypinero and 2,921,547 others

judebellingham Golden Boy 2023. Beyond grateful, thank you to everyone who’s supported my journey until this point, can’t fully express my appreciation!

vinijr Belligoooool

trentarnold66 Man of the year 👑

toniruediger JB5 🔥

madders Goldenballs 🤝

yourusername real life 💫boy

→ judebellingham i like 💎boy better though

[Y/N’s interview]

yourusername and adidaslondon

Liked by arilennox and 1,023,102 others

yourusername so happy to be part of the Adidas family

adidaslondon welcome superstar (caught the wordplay 😝)

judebellingham welcome to the family 💎girl

→ yourusername 🤭🤭

→ judefan22 not y’all flirting straight in the eyes of the public

user3 it's the face the hair the outfit it's everything

sza the face card never declined

→ yourusername thank you beautiful 🤎

jude.fan so now jude and her are both adidas partner 🤭🤭

user4 how can someone be so pretty

ynsmainbae

462 likes

ynsmainbae y/n and jude playing in their comments thinking I don’t see them 🙄🙄 i know what they’re hiding

📍ynsmainbae yourusername I KNOW WHAT Y'ALL ARE

Pinned by ynsmainbae

yn.fan they look so good together

→ ynsmainbae YESSS !!!!! they need to go public already

lovejb22 they don’t even hide it anymore

Liked by ynsmainbae

weloveyn HOLLON- GUYS Y/N IS AT A MADRID GAME

→ ynsmainbae WHAT ?!?!!

→ bell_egg_ham i used to pray for times like this 🥲

yourusername posted on their story

yourusername

Liked by judebellingham and 3,023,156

yourusername Baby, if it's OD, tell me, am I sayin' too much?

📍yourbsf guys it’s coming !!!!!!

Pinned by yourusername

hallebailey can’t wait for them to hear the song, it’s lovely 💕

→ yourusername i’m so glad you loved it babe 🥰

user5 not getting to excited, she might be lying

tyla can i be your diamond girl 👉🏽👈🏽

→ yourusername only if you make me water 😉

→ user6 AYOOOO

diesel stunning 😍😍

victoriamonet ooh she’s stunning

→ yourusername youuu 🥹🥹

user7 can't wait to be midnight

yourusername

Liked by champagnepapi and 3,541,017 others

yourusername this one is for my one and only diamond boy <3 DTM is out at mignight

sza ooh you ate that

→ yourusername thank you pookie 🤎

yourbsf fucking finally

→ yourusername girl shut up and stream

yn.and.co oh MOTHER ✨✨

jobebellingham congratulations sister 🤍

→ yourusername thank you brother 🥰

user8 she ate i fear

girliesloveyn THE VOCALS ARE VOCALIZINGGGG

judebellingham

judebellingham all i need in this life of sin 💎

📍yourusername hope you liked the song babe judebellingham

yourusername i look gorgeous damn

→ judebellingham stunning, astonishing, breath-taking

jobebellingham wide back boy

→ yourusername JOBE IJHDCDSK

→ judebellingham what you akekekeing for ??

comments have been limited

like and repost for support (hope you enjoyed it guys)

masterlist for more

#written by bl00dst41ned #football fanfic #football social media au #football smau #football x black reader #football x reader #football x you #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham social media au #jude bellingham smau #jude bellingham x black reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you

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