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qqueenofhades · 3 months

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I just read an article on The Conversation that states: "Today, most data has Trump narrowly beating Biden in the national popular vote, albeit within the statistical margin of error." (Source for that data: https://projects.fivethirtyeight.com/polls/president-general/)

In your opinion, is that true? How can that be possible after everything Trump has done? After the Insurrection? I'm terrified 😕

(For reference, the original article can be found at https://theconversation.com/five-reasons-why-trumps-republican-opponents-were-never-going-to-beat-him-223288?utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=The%20Weekend%20Conversation%20-%202888329325&utm_content=The%20Weekend%20Conversation%20-%202888329325+CID_fceedfd21410eb8a7b6fd6e1124d9d54&utm_source=campaign_monitor_uk&utm_term=five%20reasons)

Short answer: no, I don't think it's true.

Long answer: no, I really don't think it's true. Here's why.

Broader context. A Republican has won the popular presidential vote only twice in the 21st century, and in the first of those occasions -- 2000 -- I use "won" very advisedly. We all know, or at least we should, about all the fuckery that went down in Florida with Bush vs. Gore and SCOTUS stepping in to stop the recount (which almost surely would have gone to Gore) and handing Florida, and thus the presidency, to George Dubya Bush by a mere 537 votes. Dubya then did win re-election and the popular vote/EC in 2004, in the throes of patriotic war fervor and the GOP's Swiftboating of John Kerry (who was a pretty terrible candidate to start with). Other than that? None. Zip. Nada. None. Even in 2016 when Trump squeaked out a win (and thus the presidency) in the Electoral College, he lost nationwide to HRC by over 3 million votes. He lost to Biden by 7 million votes nationwide last time. Also, the reason the GOP loves the antidemocratic Electoral College is that it always works in their favor, and because red states with relatively scant population are given the same power in the Senate. That's why California, with 40+ million people, gets two (Democratic) senators, and Wyoming, with 400,000 people, gets two (Republican) senators. There is just no way that red states can get the actual raw numbers to win the popular vote against heavily blue urban population centers. The only one that comes close is Texas, and while it's something of a white whale for Democrats who think fondly that it'll surely turn blue this election cycle (and then it doesn't), it's not giving all its votes popular-vote-wise to Republicans. So yeah. The numbers aren't there. Biden is about 99% certain to win the popular vote, but because this is America, the question is whether the EC will follow.

(Although, I gotta say. In the deeply unlikely event that Biden loses the popular vote but wins the Electoral College -- i.e. the exact same thing Trump did in 2016 -- the right wing would lose their fucking minds and it would be incredibly hilarious. Also, we might finally get some red states willing to sign up to the National Popular Vote Compact, which is just a few ratifications away from going into effect. As noted, the Republicans will cling onto the Electoral College with their last dying breath because it's the only thing that makes them competitive in nationwide elections. If it fucked Trump, they might finally listen to ideas about changing it.)

The media are incredibly biased, and so is Nate Silver. Silver first rose to prominence as an independent geeky Data Guy elections whiz-kid, and was relatively good at being unbiased. That is not the case anymore. He's now affiliated with the New York Times and has started echoing the smugly anti-Biden framework of both that paper and the mainstream media in general. I'm not necessarily saying his data is total bunk, but he's extremely eager to frame, narrate, and explain it in ways that artificially disadvantage Biden (in the same way the NYT itself is all in on "BUT HIS AGEEEEE," just as they were with "BUT HER EEEEEEMAILS" in 2016) And that's a problem, because:

The polls are shit. Like, really, really shit. Didn't we just go through this in 2022, where everyone howled about how All The Data pointed to a Red Wave and then were /shocked pikachu face when this was nothing more than a Red Dribble of Piss (and frankly, the best midterm election result for the ruling party since like, the 1930s?) We've also had major, real-time proof that the polls are showing a consistent pro-Trump bias of 10 or more points, which is a huge error and keeps getting corrected whenever people actually vote, but the media will never admit that, because TRUMP IS WINNING WE ARE ALL DOOMZED!! We heard about how Biden might lose New Hampshire because he wasn't even on the ballot and that would be a critical embarrassment for him. He cruised easily with 68% (all write-in votes and FAR more than any other Democratic "candidate.") Meanwhile, Trump won New Hampshire by about 15% under what the polls had predicted for him (after doing the same and barely squeaking over 50% in Iowa, one of the whitest, most rural, most Trump-loving states in the nation). The number ballparked for Biden in the NV Democratic primary was something like 75%; he got over 90% (and twice as many votes as any candidate in the Republican Primary/Caucus/Whatever That Mess Was). The number for what he was supposed to get in the SC primary was in the high 60% (driven by the media's other favorite "Black voters are abandoning Biden" canard); he absolutely crushed it at 97% statewide. When Biden is winning by whopping margins and Trump is underperforming badly, in both cases by gaps of ten percent or more, it means the polls are simply not showing us an accurate state of the race. This could be because of media bias, bad data, selective polling, inability to actually connect with voters (especially young voters, who are about as likely to eat a live scorpion as to pick up an unsolicited phone call from an unknown number). This also shows up in:

Special elections. We've heard tons of Very Smart Punditry (derogatory) about how Democrats kicking ass in pretty much every competitive election since Roe was overturned in 2022 totally means nothing for the general election. (Of course, if the situation was reversed and Republicans were cleaning up at the same rate, we would be hearing nothing except how we're all destined for Eternal Trumpocracy... wait. no... we're still only hearing this. Weird.) In the last special election in early February, Democrat Tom Suozzi won back his old U.S House seat (NY-03) by over eight points, after polls had given him at most a two- or three-point edge. (Funnily, once again a Democrat did far better than the media is determined to insist, so Politico hilariously called a thumping eight-point win "edging it out.") This represents almost a 16-point blue swing from even just 2022, when The Congressman Possibly Known as George Santos won it by 7 points. On that same night, a Democratic candidate in a Trump +26 district in deep, deep red Oklahoma only lost by 5 points, marking another massive pro-blue swing. This has been the case in every special election since Roe went down. Apparently blah blah This Won't Translate to the General Election, because the media is very smart. Even when Democrats (historically hard to motivate and muster in off-year election cycles, or you know in general) are turning up in elections that don't involve Trump to punish terrible Trumpist policies, we're supposed to think they won't be motivated to actually vote against the guy himself? And not just them, because:

Trump is a terrible candidate. Which we know, and have always known, but now it's really true. We've had up to half of Haley voters stating they will vote for Biden over Trump if that is the November matchup (which it will be). Haley, amusingly, actually outraised Trump in January, because it turns out that the Trump Crime Family's open promise to send every single donor or RNC dollar to pay El Trumpo's legal fees hasn't been a terribly effective message. We had Republicans in NY-03 telling CNN that they voted for the Democrat Suozzi because they're so fed up with the GOP clown show in the House and don't think Republicans can govern (which uh. Yeah. Welcome to reality, we all knew that ages ago too). We have had up to a third of Republican voters saying they won't vote for Trump if he's convicted of a felony before the election (and technically he already has been, but we're still hoping for the January 6 trial to go ahead). Now, yes, Republicans are a notoriously cliquey bunch and might change their minds, but for all the endless bullshit BIDEN SHOULD STEP DOWN BECAUSE DEMOCRATS ARE DISUNITED narrative the media has been pushing like their kidnapped grandmothers' lives depend on it, Democrats aren't actually disunited at all. Instead, Trump is in chaos, the GOP is in chaos, sizeable chunks of Republican voters are ready to vote for someone else and in some cases have already done so, and yet, do we hear a peep about how Trump should step down? Nah. In related news, did you hear that Biden is old?!?! Why isn't anyone writing about this?!?!

Now, I want to make it clear: Trump's chances of winning are not zero, and they are not inconsiderable. We need to face that fact and deal with it accordingly. Large chunks of the country are still willing to vote for white Christian nationalist fascism. Trump still has plenty of diehard cultists and the entire establishment Republican party in his pocket, and it's been made very clear that Putin is bringing the full force of his malevolent Russian fascist machine to bear on this election as well. Case in point: we spent four years hearing about HUNTER BIDEN HUNTER BIDEN SECRET CORRUPTION GIANT SECRET BUSINESS SCANDAL, and it turns out that the GOP's "star informant" has been actively working with Russian spies the whole time and fed them complete bullshit disinformation, which they were eager to repeat so long as it might hurt Joe Biden. (And it would hurt Ukraine, so, twofer! I cannot emphasize enough how much it was all a deliberate collaboration by some of the worst people on earth.)

In 2016, people naively assumed that Trump could never win, and so they were especially willing to throw away, spoil, or otherwise not exercise their vote, or throw purity hissy fits over HRC (likewise fed at the toxic teat of Russian disinformation). That was exactly what allowed Trump to squeak out a win in the EC and put us in the mess we are currently in. If people act in the same way in 2024 that they did in 2016, Trump's chances of winning are drastically increased. So once again, as I keep saying, it's up to us. If we all vote blue, and we get our networks to vote blue, Biden is very likely to win. If we don't, he won't, and Trump will win. It's that simple. We had better decide what we're doing. The end.

#jayciethings #ask #politics for ts #long post

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delopsia · 3 months

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Rhett has never really gotten the whole Valentine's thing.

You noticed it the first February you spent together; he'd been tilting his head at the endless pink and red aisles, quietly asking you what the point of it all was. Why give chocolates and plushes on a specific day when you can do it year-round? What's so special about it all?

He says all that as if he doesn't participate in it, too. Bringing you plushes of adorable animals holding little red hearts, sweets and flowers, and anything else that reminded him of you. He may not understand it, but he's not about to let his feelings cause him to miss out on spoiling you with your favorite things.

This year, though, you've got an idea.

With the recent hustle and bustle around the ranch he's working at, Rhett hasn't been home as much as usual. And when he is, those pretty eyes are so damn sleepy that he's got no energy to look around and notice where you've begun stashing things.

A bottle of champagne because every time he sees it in the store, he wonders what it tastes like. Variety chocolates, too many boxes of candy hearts, a bath gift set because he's always bugging you to take a bath together. Chocolate-covered pretzels, cookies, and handmade candies from the little shop that just opened in town. Best of all, you've gotten your hands on a pink masturbation sleeve. So well colored that it practically disappears once you've tucked everything into the basket, tied off with a long red ribbon.

Rhett heads out the door before dawn on Valentine's Day, leaving you with his traditional kiss on the forehead and a small bundle of goodies on the bedside table, ready for you to find them when your eyes open. It's full of all your usual favorites, topped off with an oversized plush of a strawberry cow. He must have kept it hidden in his clothes because when you hug it to your chest, it smells like him.

His eyes were hardly open when he left the house, and they're much of the same when he stumbles through the front door sometime after seven, calling your name as he toes off his boots. The only reason he notices the rose petals and candles scattered across the floor, is because one of his shoes fell off the rack.

He's not entirely sure what to think. Poking at the tiny, battery-powered candles with his foot as he follows the trail you've created for him. Still calling out your name, unsure as to why you have yet to show yourself.

It's the basket that gets him to stop in his tracks. Adorably placed in the center of the bed, right next to your brand-new cow. Virtually silent as he shifts the items inside, a grin sprawling across his face as he takes in all of the things you've gathered for him.

Soft hands appear on his waist, leading the way as your arms wrap around him, "Happy Valentine's Day, cowboy."

"Y' got all this fer me?" He's already toying with one of the chocolates, trying his best to conceal the excitement that rushes through his system.

And so far, he hasn't noticed his new toy.

"Mhm," pressing your lips to the back of his neck.

You knew he would open that bath set first, sleepy eyes flickering between you and the bathroom as if to ask for one more gift. So what if you've already got the water good and warm, ready to go the moment you turn it back on? It's just a coincidence.

It's been a minute since you've watched him peel off his shirt, pale skin bearing a few more bruises than normal. A scattering of blue and purple across his ribs from the unbridled rage of a particularly fussy heifer. Green and yellow spots on his thighs, with an origin he doesn't quite recall, but lets you kiss them regardless.

The water is absurdly pink, and if you'd known there was glitter in this bath bomb, you would have chosen a different set. You'll be sparkling for weeks. But you've already settled into it; Rhett is situating his back against your chest, head resting against yours, and you can't bring yourself to complain. Especially not when he dares to bite into a nondescript chocolate, nose wrinkling as he realizes it's filled with artificial cherry.

"Ain't even the good kind," he grumbles, tossing it toward the trash bin. For once, his aim is perfect.

But his disappointment is short-lived. Cut short by the lips that appear on his naked shoulder, the bad one that never truly recovered from his rodeo wreck. Guiding yourself up the side of his neck, drinking in his pretty groan as his mouth meets with yours, albeit strained from the angle.

Your hands roam across his soft belly, daring to dip down to massage the insides of his thighs, just shy of his rapidly swelling cock. Rubbing up, up, up, to lightly trace your nails across his balls, then back down again. Those eyelashes are fluttering. Breathing a little quicker than he was before.

"Where did...where did you get..." stumbling over his own words, as your hand reaches off to the side and produces that little sleeve. Pale pink, textured on the inside, just opaque enough for you to see through it.

Getting lube on him while in the water is certainly a...process, but Rhett is so damn eager that he hardly seems to notice your struggle.

You know you've made a good decision when his hips buck up, water sloshing as he cries out, so surprised by the feel of this unassuming little toy. One of your hands splays out against his chest, holding him to you, can feel the way his heart jumps when you glide the toy across him again.

"Again," he babbles, pawing at your wrist, still pumping him, "do that, do that—hah!"

It's a wonder the water stays in the bath because he can hardly keep himself still. Squirming and involuntarily kicking his legs, clinging to your wrist one moment and squeezing the edge of the tub the next. Only manages to keep still when he's twisted and turned enough to jam his head into the crook of your neck, panting so heavily that he sounds like he's run a marathon.

You could string it out. Edge him until he can't hold back any longer, but the exhaustion in his bones suggests he can't take any more pushing this week. So when he starts whimpering about being close, begging and begging you to let him cum, you do. Marveling at the sight of his head tilting, eyes falling shut as he cums with a cry that echoes all throughout the house.

By the time you get him into bed, he's as limp as a damn noodle. Struggling to keep himself upright, damn near falling into the sheets the moment he's close enough. The only reason he doesn't fall asleep when his head hits the pillow is because he's too busy waiting for you to settle into his arms.

Then he falls asleep in the middle of his thank you. And maybe he's starting to get the point of this whole Valentine's thing because you wake up to the feeling of him kissing your thighs late in the morning. Smooches punctuated with lazy mutterings about how he wishes Valentine's Day lasted a whole week rather than just one day.

He makes the festivities last for an entire seven days, that's for sure.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #tw food #delgato's warmups

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pippin-katz · 8 months

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Red, White & Royal Blue Master Post

Greetings and salutations! I think too much and have too much to say, but I think some of it is worthwhile. This is the hub for all my essays on Red, White & Royal Blue, some of my lists, or posts I think are relevant enough to be here.

Here's where you'll find links to them so you don't have to search my posts for them. I'll also keep this updated whenever I write a new one!

Initial Post Viewing Essay

Cinematography

One Shots in Red, White & Royal Blue - Part 1: Alex's Room

The Deleted Cornettos Scene

Varying Takes In The Red Room

What Would Their First Meeting Look Like?

Alex Centered

6 Little Faces Alex Makes That I Love - Part 1 6 More Little Faces Alex Makes That I Love - Part 2 Another 6 Little Faces Alex Makes That I Love - Part 3

Alex & Being Bisexual

Alex's Face & Thoughts After Henry Kisses Him

Henry Centered

Breaking Alex's Heart

Henry Crying During Their First Time

Henry's Heartbreaking Expression in the Campfire Scene

FirstPrince

5 Red, White, & Royal Blue moments that make me feel: 🥺🥰 - Part 1 5 more Red, White, & Royal Blue moments that make me feel: 🥺🥰 - Part 2 Another 5 Red, White, & Royal Blue moments that make me feel: 🥺🥰 - Part 3

Alex Shaking His Head At Henry's Quip

Get Low Moment

Since New Year's

The Placement of Alex's Speech

The Fingers & Ring Touching

The 5 specific details of Red, White & Royal Blue spicy scenes that make me, a demisexual, feel: 🦋🫣🦋

Why Did Henry Ignore Alex?

Comforting Hugs

Henry Taking Alex To The V&A

Alex's Lack Of Experience With Men

Taylor & Nicholas

Safety & Trust

Fucking Hair Pulling

Button Banter Original Button Banter Add-On

Acting, It’s Mental

Weird Similarities Between Taylor Zakhar Perez - Nicholas Galitzine & Colin Morgan - Bradley James

Lines & Conversations I Want To Hear In An Audiobook

Being Comfortable With Each Other

The Awardist Podcast Interview

Cake Gate BTS

Miscellaneous Topics

Nora Being Jewish

Miguel & Alex: Pre-Falling Out

Artwork

ACD FSOTUS - Alex Claremont-Diaz, First Son of the United States

FirstPrince Fantasy AU

A Rose By Any Other Name

Alex in a Bisexual Suit Jacket

Alex Needs Coffee

Alex & Henry Book Hugs

#red white & royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie #rwrb book #rwrb thoughts #rwrb rambles #rwrb fanart #alex claremont-diaz #taylor zakhar perez #henry hanover-stuart fox #henry fox mountchristen-windsor #nicholas galitzine #firstprince #history huh? bet we could make some #master post

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fandom-chic · 8 months

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Please Please Please: Chapter 10

Summary: Y/N is only a child when she and Tommy Shelby meet. The two quickly become best friends as they grow up in Small Heath. As the years go by, Y/N and Tommy realize there may be more to their friendship than they originally thought.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Y/N

Previous chapter

She sat on that pier for a while, letting the tears run down her cheeks. She didn’t care who saw her in this state; she didn’t care about anything anymore. Her world was over, and she had to accept it. She finally rose once the sun set, knowing the night brings other kinds of dangers. She trudged home, her legs trailing behind her. When she finally arrived home, she made her way to her room, collapsing on the bed. She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling above her, catatonic. She had no reason to move. All she had to do was watch the ceiling for a sign that something would be okay.

That was when a knock echoed throughout her room. The knocker didn’t wait for a response before entering. She didn’t have to look over to know whose footsteps had made their way into her room.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Her father’s voice soothed as she felt her bed shift under his weight.

“He’s gone,” she continued staring up.

“Who?” There was no reason he had to question her about who it was.

“Tommy,” her voice began to rise, “Who else could it be?” There was poison in her words. She heard him let out a sigh. Even without looking at his face, she knew his words hurt him. That wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t need to hurt one of the few people who seemed to understand her in some way.

That was when she rolled her head to the side, gazing upon her father. “What do I do, Daddy?” The words were a plea, and in that second, when her father met her eyes, all he saw was his baby girl on the ground with a bloody knee, asking him to patch her up. She wasn’t the woman he knew her as right now, just the child that was buried under years of life wearing her down.

So, he said what he knew would help. Maybe not what she wanted to hear; on the contrary, it was probably the last thing she wanted to acknowledge, but she had to.

“Live,” His hand drifted over to hers, taking it and giving it a squeeze, “You can’t pause your life for one person.” He let a beat pass before continuing, “You know it’s what Tommy would want.” And she knew he was right. She didn’t want him to be right, but he was. He almost always was.

She rose to her father's level before enveloping him in a hug. His arms wrapped around his daughter, pulling her close. He expected to feel tears dampening his shoulder, but he didn’t feel any. He smiled. She would be okay.

A few weeks later, the school year had begun. The leaves in Small Heath let Y/N know that change was here as the leaves went from green to red. She splashed water on her face, stared at herself in the mirror before taking a deep breath.

“You will be okay.”

September 1915

Another year has begun. As the final child scurried out of her classroom, she shut the door and locked it, leaning her weight against the wood. After one day, she wished for a break. She wished summer could have lasted all year, but those thoughts would go away. She just needed to rearrange the desks, clean the blackboard, and pick the pencils off the ground. And maybe sweep the floors, put the books back on the bookshelf, and wash the stain out of the green rug. That was when Y/N decided a first day of school drink was in order.

She tidied up her classroom as best as she could before heading out for the day. She let her feet carry her toward the town center, scouring possible locations for an after-school drink. That was when she found herself in front of The Garrison. She felt her body stiffen as she was presented with the familiar exterior. She could go in. Tommy wasn’t there. She snorted to herself at that. Of course, he wasn’t there. Why not head in for a drink?

As much as she tried to rationalize it, she couldn’t let herself move forward. Ghosts lived in that bar. Maybe not real ghosts, but ghosts of realities that could’ve been her own. That was when she turned away and headed farther along the road.

A sign she had walked by many times but never paid much mind had caught her attention. Finnegan’s. Why not?

She entered the restaurant and peered around, looking for somewhere to sit. That was when she noticed a bar. Perfect. She carried herself to a barstool and plopped herself down. She let herself peer around the restaurant, taking in the environment. It was relatively empty with a few patrons scattered throughout the establishment. The room smelled vaguely of cigarettes and beer, but not in an overwhelming sense. It would do. She placed her bag onto her lap and looked up, hoping to flag down a waiter; however, there didn’t seem to be one in sight.

“Hello?” She called, looking for someone, anyone to pour her something alcoholic. She looked around, shifting in her seat before she saw a man enter from the back. He saw her and gave her a small smile before making his way before the bar. He seemed uneasy on his feet, holding onto the ledge as he approached her.

“Sorry for the wait, what can I get you?” His voice was soothing, to say the least. His eyes matched the calm of his voice, giving her stomach a warm feeling, one that she pushed away before it could make its presence known.

“Just a glass of chardonnay would be wonderful,” she said, letting a smile play upon her lips. He nodded at her, giving her a wink.

“Chardonnay it is.” He turned toward the array of bottles. She couldn’t help but watch the way he focused, admiring how his deep brown eyes tried to find what she needed. When they did, a large hand reached out and grabbed the bottle, pouring her a generous portion.

She reached for her wallet but felt a hand rest upon hers, “It’s on the house.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she gave the man a confused look.

“Are you sure?” she questioned, looking around at the lack of customers in the restaurant.

“Well, I do have one caveat.” She let her chin rest in her hand as she looked up at him.

“What could that be?” She had a feeling where this could be going.

“Stay after close. Let me take you out.” She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his words.

“Wow, you work fast.” She teased, taking a sip of her wine.

“In the world we live in today, we have to trust our intuition.” He said with a shrug, giving her a smirk. There was something boyish about his expression. She couldn’t deny this man was handsome; hell, his shoulders were so broad she was sure she could sit upon one of them. But she knew what her answer would be.

“I’m sorry, but I am afraid that I cannot follow up your offer.” The man bit lips, and gave a playful nod.

“I understand, came off a bit strong there.” There was a hint of a joke in his voice.

“Just a tad,” Y/N responded, “Besides, I’m not dating right now.”

“Oh,” The man quickly said, “Do you have someone in France?” The question she was dreading to be asked was asked. She shifted in the stool, averting eye contact.

“One could say that,” she muttered to herself, taking a larger sip. She looked back at the man, seeing him begin to place the puzzles of her together. It was almost like he could see through her.

“So how much does that drink cost?” She asked, grabbing for her wallet again.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” He waved his hand at her, “I could always use more friends.”

She smiled at his words, “We’re friends now?” she mused, “I’m still a stranger to you.”

“We can easily change that,” he said with a chuckle before holding out a hand, “I’m William.” She looked at his hand for a second before reaching out to shake.

“Y/N.”

And that was the beginning of a tradition for Y/N. Every Thursday, she would return to Finnegan’s for a drink. Or two. Or three. Or until the restaurant closed.

She got to know William. She learned his family owned the restaurant and it had been passed down for generations. He learned that she had come to Small Heath as a child, leaving the world she knew behind. She learned he had served in the war for a few months before losing his left foot. He was sent home with honors and a head full of sorrow. He learned that she had a love who no longer belonged to her.

Months had passed before the question came up again. The two of them were at their usual spots at the bar, him behind the counter and her in the stool. He had said something, causing her to laugh so hard her stomach hurt.

“I swear it’s true! That horse was an asshole.” He joked as Y/N wiped a tear from her eyes.

“No way! There is no way that horse spoke to you. You must’ve been pissed.” She said between giggles.

He gives an exaggerated shrug, flashing Y/N a large smile, “I swear on my father’s grave.” She playfully rolled her eyes before letting them linger on his. His stayed on her too, watching her reclined posture on the bar. He couldn’t help the smile that had formed on his lips as he leaned down to her. She didn’t shift away as his hand slipped to her jaw and pulled her in. His lips were warm and inviting. She gave in to his touch and felt at home.

He pulled away slowly, letting his lips linger close to hers, “So, about that date.”

September 1916

She cannot take her eyes off herself. How could she? She had never looked so beautiful in her whole life. Before her stood the reflection of a woman ready to commit her life to someone else. How could she not admire that woman?

She couldn’t help but take in the way her dress laid perfectly on her body, making her feel like the princess she never thought she deserved to be. The neck was scooped in a way that made her collar bone seem prominent. The sleeves were capped but had a flow to them still. There were light tears on the dress that led to a long train. The final thing she needed was her veil.

As if reading her mind, she heard a knock at the door. She turns, expecting to see her maid of honor but instead is greeted by the beaming face of her father.

“Hello, honey,” he greeted, letting his smile fill the room.

She smiles back and does a small spin, “What do you think?” She looks up at him expectantly as his smile seems to grow.

“Beautiful,” she could swear she saw the beginnings of a tear forming in her father’s eye, but it was quickly wiped away, “I’m proud of you, dear.” At those words, she cannot help but take her father in her arms and give him a warm hug.

“Thanks, Dad.” The warmth in her chest spread to her limbs and she felt some semblance of whole.

Her father pulls away, putting his hands on her shoulders, taking her in, “I never thought I’d get to see you like this again,” he gives her shoulders a squeeze, “Happy, glowing, and ready for the next step.” She nodded at her father's words, putting her hands on top of his.

“I guess you could say I didn’t stop living,” she gave him a knowing smile that he returned. Her father gave her a kiss on the cheek before exiting the room.

She watched the door shut before looking at her reflection once more. She looked at the way her face had changed in just two years and wondered what Tommy would think. He would recognize her, no doubt, but what would he say? That Small Heath had had its way with her? Y/N ran a hand through her curls at that part, trying to make them as elegant as possible.

She didn’t know what he would say. She shouldn’t be thinking like that on a day like today, but how could she not? This was the place she never imagined getting married. She thought it would be at their lake with a few friends and family, not with the whole town in a packed church. But life lives on.

At that, she placed her veil in her hair, gave herself a smile before heading to the ceremony. She is greeted by her father as she puts her arm in his. The wedding march begins to play and feelings of doubt begin to set in. She feels her feet begin to take her up the aisle. Her eyes seem to look everywhere but her husband: her mother, the priest, and finally, Polly Gray, the last woman she expected to see at her wedding.

Of course, Y/N sent Polly an invitation; it would be rude not to, but she didn’t think she would show; yet, here she was. The two women made eye contact as Y/N went up the aisle. She didn’t know what she expected, a sneer, an eye roll, or a side eye, but the look she got was what she expected the least: a smile and a nod.

Everything’s going to be okay.

Y/N nodded back at the Shelby matriarch before finally looking at the rest of her life, her fiancé, her William, but she couldn’t help but feel a shadow behind him.

September 1917

There was no bump yet; how could there be? She let her hand cup her abdomen, expecting some kind of protrusion but all that was there was her stomach. Y/N was late, which didn’t happen. She thought it might’ve been an anomaly, but when she missed her period a second month in a row, she knew it was something else. When her suspicions were confirmed, a weight came off her shoulders; she was pregnant.

She stood in her bedroom, taking in her figure, wondering what her body would become; wondering if she would recognize it; wondering if William would still like it; wondering who this person growing inside her would be.

“As long as they have any piece of you, we will be okay.” Those words traced around her mind like they were being whispered in her ear. Y/N knew when those words were spoken to her. It was April of 1914. She and Tommy were laying together, holding each other tight as they squeezed into his twin bed.

She remembered giggling as she ran a hand through his hair, “I just want them to have your eyes.” Tommy raised his eyebrows at that.

“My eyes? Why my eyes?” She giggled, giving him a playful smack.

“You know why, Mr. Shelby.” She knew he knew the beauty his eyes held. He smirked at his fiancée, giving her forehead a kiss. His lips lingered as he thought through his next words.

“You are good, Y/N. If they’re good like you, life will treat them well,” She knew they were talking about hypothetical babies. Ones that didn’t even exist yet, but his words stuck with her. They stuck with her as she turned to the side, examining her profile.

They’ll be good, that’s what matters.

Y/N took a deep breath, smoothed down the wrinkles of her skirt, and exited her and her husband’s bedroom. She knew where to find him as she opened the front door of their home and made her way to Finnegan’s. It was a slow day; it tended to be at the beginning of the week. She spotted him at his usual place behind the bar cleaning glasses. He looked up as she entered and smiled.

We will be okay.

November 11, 1918

The cheers woke her up with a start, then the cries of the baby kept her awake. Y/N wished she could be like William, able to sleep through any kind of disaster; yet, here she was. She gave a quick stretch before reaching for the baby.

“Shhh, it’s okay, dear,” she cooed at the bundle in her arms. She rose and took a peek out the window, curious where the noise could be coming from at such an hour. To her surprise, crowds of people were going up and down the street, holding each other as they cheered.

It couldn’t be true.

Y/N wrapped up the baby in the warmest clothes she could find in haste before speeding to the front door and flinging it open. The first thing she was met with was cheers, ones that were more easy to understand in closer proximity.

It was true: the war was over.

She held her daughter tighter, knowing where she had to go. Y/N slid on her shoes and threw on her bathrobe before letting her legs guide her to a familiar place. One that had been her home throughout her childhood. One that she thought she would live in one day.

She frantically knocked at the door. She didn’t care what time it was. Hell, all of Small Heath was out celebrating; no one was going to be asleep. Her knocking didn’t subside until the person she was hoping for opened the door.

“Do you know what bloody time it is?” Polly asked, her eyebrow raised. Her face softened when she noticed the essence of the cheers. That was when a smile rose to her face. Y/N’s face matched Polly’s.

“The boys are coming home.” The words were almost a whisper as Y/N used her free arm to pull Polly into a hug. Polly held back from her touch, causing Y/N to flinch away. She pulled back and looked at Polly, who was looking at the child in Y/N’s arms.

A warm smile rose to Polly’s lips, “She’s beautiful, what’s her name?” Y/N looked down at her daughter, the baby now seeming to have drifted back to sleep.

“Jane.”

“Jane, that’s a good name.” Polly said, grabbing a cigarette from her bathrobe pocket. She lit it, taking a deep breath of the smoke before exhaling, “You should go home, Y/N.”

Y/N cocked her head, “What?”

Polly took another inhale of the cigarette before continuing, “Just because Tommy’s coming home doesn’t mean anything, love. You moved on. He has too.” She exhaled, “Go home, Y/N.”

Y/N could tell she didn’t want to, but Polly shut the door, leaving Y/N alone in the chaos. Maybe Polly was right.

November 1919

The brisk fall air smacked her face as she stepped out of the schoolhouse. It was a feeling she was used to now, fall in Small Heath. It always started the same, promisingly warm to devastatingly cold. She could sense the devastation coming in.

Small Heath was not the same town it used to be. True, the heat and smell of factories bounced off all the surrounding buildings, but Y/N couldn’t deny the fact that there were more people here. She didn’t know what these people had to bring to her home, but she hoped it would be something warmer than this cold.

Y/N took in the environment around her and took in a deep breath. Twenty-nine would be a good year; she was determined it would be. She took a look at her watch. 3:30 PM. She had time.

She began to stroll down the road toward Finnegan’s. Her mother was watching Jane, but she would be there until 5:00 PM. She understood that Y/N had grading and lesson plans to create, but she also knew that children could be draining. Y/N couldn’t deny, she loved Jane with every fiber of her body. Her daughter was the light of her life. One she wasn’t sure she would see again.

Y/N shook that thought off of her as she went the familiar path to her family’s restaurant. As she turned a corner, she saw a vision she hadn’t seen in years. The Garrison, packed with patrons. So many that the doors were open. She had to investigate.

But did she?

Her pace came to a stop as she watched customers wander into her old bar. She knew the risk that came with going into The Garrison. She let her curiosity get the better of her.

She approached her old bar, the one she would frequent most days of the week. That was when she heard a sound she hadn’t in years, singing. She went through the front door and pushed into the crowd. Y/N was greeted by a sight: a blonde barmaid singing. It was an Irish folk song, a beautiful one to say the least. Y/N couldn’t help but become enraptured in her voice, letting the words and melody bathe over her. It wasn’t until she took a peek around the bar that she saw a face she thought she’d never see again.

A face she thought had gone to France and never returned.

He watched the barmaid with a gaze that she associated with certain feelings. Feelings she thought were only meant for her. Jealousy began to boil in her gut, jealousy she hadn’t felt in over five years. She pressed the feeling down but her eyes remained on the man. Tommy. The barmaid’s Tommy.

He must’ve known someone’s eyes were focused on him. Years in France must have allowed him to know these things. When his eyes looked over his shoulder, his expression shifted to one she didn’t know. One that she didn’t know how to name. So, she did the only thing she could think to do. Flee.

Next chapter

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sweepingboy · 3 months

Text

"General Ming Guang is doing palm reading!"

Gods surround the ruler of North giggling and shoving each other like a bunch of teens. They're hooting and hollering as they listen to old Pei's fortune telling, teasing each other. Sex, love... It seems that some topics will always bug people no matter how many centuries they lived.

Mu Qing rolls his eyes at them but keeps watching from his seat across the table as Pei Ming masterfully flirts with young goddesses clearly abusing his palm reading excuse as he brushes his lips against their delicate hands. They blush and squeak and look at the deity oh so hopefully.

Mu Qing came in terms with his fate long time ago - always in a rush he had no time to fool around. He took his vows, sharpening himself like a sword. A blade that had passed the fire of the forge and the icy waters, the singing steel praising the scarlet drops on the grim metal. Protecting attacking - he has a duty, he chose it himself 800 years ago.

He feels a tug in the ribcage as Pei Ming grabs Xie Lian's hand.

" Ho-ho!, Your Highness! I see a long and happy marriage" Ming Guang winks "death won't be enough to set you apart!" The prince blushes and laughs awkwardly placing a hand over his chest where, Mu Qing knows, the diamond ring is hidden. He clenches fists under the table the bandages digging uncomfortably into his skin.

Quietly he gets up and leaves.

Gentle wind plays with his hair as he stands in the shadows of the garden feeling like a shadow himself; frozen in his power he watches the life passing leaving him behind.

"General Xuan Zhen," familiar voice calls "may I have your hand?"

Mu Qing sighs in annoyance as steady footsteps approach him "I'm not interested, Ming Guang."

"Xuan Zhen," the other general teases " is this how you treat your elders?"

Mu Qing scoffs at him, while Pei Ming smiles charmingly. Exasperated, he lifts his hand and starts taking off the bandages slowly, arranging them into a neat roll as he does so. Inch by inch he reveals areas of burned skin - some pale pink, healing already, some still aggressively red. At least they aren't wet with ichor he thinks. He hated feeling moist cloth against his skin.

General Ming Guang takes his hand carefully.

He traces the lines gently - Mu Qing thought they wouldn't be visible at all remembering how tight was his grip on the red-hot hilt of Zhanmadao but they are even more defined like that, long curves against the puffed flesh.

"Your heart is covered in thorns."

"How original."

"Shush! You're listening to me now, young man!" "It's hard for a living creature to get through the thorn bushes."

Mu Qing rolls his eyes "It's not how you read a palm."

"Many people see it as cruel and dead" the god continues patiently "but I can see that this heart has bled enough. General you have lived many troubled years without warmth - but you know what cold is because you have something to compare it to" the younger god listens to him, as calloused bog fingers dance over the creases of his skin "This stubborn heart will do anything for those it cares about. It will endure pain, reproach, misunderstandings. I like that little guy."

"My dear Xuan Zhen," Pei Ming's thumb is gently massaging the center of the palm "you carry the most beautiful rose in your chest. A lover worthy of you should be willing to prick himself dozens of times to see it's bud. And you must be ready to let it bloom when the time comes."

"If the time comes." Mu Qing whispers.

Pei Ming calmly looks him on the eyes "When. The Heavens are full of brave men."

"Thank you general" he says quietly " I will treasure your very accurate detailed prediction."

"Sure. Want me to do your horoscope too?"

"Please spare me that honour."

Pei Ming laughs and hugs him with one hand and Mu Qing can feel a small smile forming on his lips.

#pei ming can do palm reading!#brave man in question is scandalized watching mu qing “being wooed”#i like their duo sm #mu qing #mu qing's hands heal slowly and he has to deal with traditional medicine #sorry had a fever while writing this XD #nothing new actually half of my posts were made while i was WASTED #tgcf #tgcf mu qing #mxtx tgcf #tgcf headcanon #pei ming

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kitkatopinions · 6 months

Text

"Blake's TRUE color is purple, the black was only ever because of Adam" Friend, if that was the case her name wouldn't literally mean black. You guys were watching the color show originally centered around color where the color oriented team rwby who had names with the first initial of their color made by someone who was so particular about color that he almost made all dust red just so he didn’t throw off Weiss's color scheme. You really think that if Blake's TRUE color was always meant to be purple, she'd be named Blake?

Also, people only ever offer Blake 'breaking away from Adam' and 'getting healthy and confident' as reasons why the writers are acting like she's purple now, but like... Blake hasn't been with Adam at all during the course of the main show. She was completely disillusioned with him, she was against the things he did, she was standing up to him, she was calmly articulating the way she felt about him, she was making friends, learning to trust, went on a date for God's sake, all within the first three seasons. And the backsliding that happened because of the fall of beacon was dealt with and left her more confident than ever, reunited with her parents and Ilia, 'reclaiming the White Fang' from him even though that was a badly done mess, etc, all prior to reuniting with Team RWBY by the way. Killing Adam in volume six was completely unnecessary to Blake's journey of healing and actually logically would've made her backslide again, and as I've said before, Blake turning into a meek flinching passive person trying to manage her partner's temper and hiding behind said partner when her seventeen year old teammate raises her voice makes it seem like Blake is actively LESS healthy than ever before.

People literally only say that about "purple is really Blake's color, the black is just Adam" because they're unable to see Blake outside of Bumbleby and use Adam as a fallback hatesink for anything she once was that contradicts it. Also I want these people to stop calling their ship bumbleby and find something purple and yellow to call their ship, like LarryBoy or something. Also Also I want them to stop singing Red Like Roses, because "Black the beast descends from shadow-" Oh ADAM that must mean ADAM because Blake's color isn't black! /s

Also the same can be said for Weiss. "White was the Jacques color, blue is really what Weiss's color really is" A. Her name means white. B. You’re telling me that in V4 at the height of when the writers want you to think Jacques is so cruelly controlling her, she's wearing that dull gray-ish blue dress and absolutely no white, and that wasn’t meant to be symbolic at all? And when she leaves she puts on the wide white belt, and you thought that... What, meant that Jacques still had a hold on her or something? Also, C. I could be wrong, but doesn't Nicholas Schnee who the writers are billionaire simps for and Weiss admires and calls a hero ALSO wear tons of white? If Weiss is shedding Jacques (represented by white) and embracing the True Blueblooded GOOD Billionaire Schnee name (blue) then wouldn't old Nick Schnee be decked out in blue?

And legitimately, the writers might've randomly decided while writing V6 that Weiss's color should be blue and Blake's color should be purple and THEY might have come up with those same dumb excuses, but they're not good excuses and I absolutely DO NOT believe that Blake's color being black and Weiss's color being white was originally meant to 'show us they weren't being their true selves' or that they were 'getting held back' and so on and so forth. Every time I see people say that, I roll my eyes so hard.

#rwde

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desultory-novice · 6 months

Note

Magalor gets the crown but neither turns on the main cast or gets controlled instantly and just kinda leaves.

(Bonus points if he gradually gets controlled, taking such a long time (like a couple months - a couple years) that people can see it happening but just can't stop it and have to watch it happen no I'm not copying adventure time)

Since you said Magolor left Kirby and the others alone, I'm afraid you'll have to deal with a Marx and Marxolor-heavy version of this prompt! (I sure hope you're one of my readers who either likes or doesn't mind some shipping between them, Anon! >w< )

I originally wrote this as a script to maybe comic-ify before I realized it was way too long and quickly transformed it into a prose piece!

"False King's Lament" Pairing: Marxolor Genre: Angst Words: 1,000 Warnings: Uh...they kiss briefly...?

[Read More]

A breezy question, spoken almost out of boredom, echoed with unexpected weight throughout the room.

"How long you gonna keep wearing that?"

The wizard king turned in the direction of the voice: it came from his court jester, who spoke to him upside down, being in the middle of a series of complex acrobatic exercises.

The jester was the only member of his court. For theirs was a kingdom of two.

"...Wearing what?"

"The big glittery crown on your head, your majesty."

They tried to invite others to join in their kingdom of laughter and good times. Most refused with looks of disgust or terror. Some took up weapons. Some simply ran. Of course, together the two of them had the ability to force anyone they wanted to stay, but after a time, the wizard king would sigh and say their screams weren't the ones he was looking for and let them go–to the jester's disappointment.

"The Master Crown is an object of unlimited power."

The golden diadem in question, sculpted to resemble some kind of airborne creature, like a bird or a bat or perhaps a dragon sat atop the wizard king's head. The jewel in the center, a light opalescent color that every so often looked blood red in the light, sparkled on its own, as if it somehow knew it was being spoken about.

"Why would I ever stop wearing it?"

The jester hopped forward, deft in his comically oversized shoes.

"Uh, cause it looks dumb on you?"

The veil of majesty on the wizard king's face fell away, one gloved hand massaging away the annoyance he felt in his brow from betwixt the crown's enormous claws.

There was no more dignity there as he dropped the royal charade to sigh at his longtime friend and lifelong partner in mischief.

"Ma~rx..." Irritation rose in the last notes of that name.

The jester, unfurling his wiry wings, crossed the distance between himself and his king with a single glittering flap.

"Seriously, Magolor. You haven't taken that thing off since you came back with it. I know you like looking all important, but come on!"

Magolor noticed Marx's ever delighted smile had left his face. His own countenance was a frown.

"Once more, I have to question you why I should?"

"...Can you?" This question was softer in pitch than that which initiated this conversation. Heavier in tone.

"What was that?" Magolor feigned a fool's ignorance. It was true that his hearing was not what it had been in years past. But to say he hadn't heard the jester's question would be the kind of lie that distinguished his life before his coronation.

"Can you take it off?"

Firmer now. Marx no longer concealed his concern.

"....Why is that a question?" Golden eyes looked around the throne room for anything else to concentrate on. (Though had it not, at one time, been built for a purpose other than ruling? Had this empty castle in his image not been made to host more than just them?)

Marx wrapped his hands–though it was only Magolor who thought of the large, monstrous claws that way–close around the two ends of his jester's cap like they were cuffs, miming his king's horns.

"It's hugging your head pre~tty tight." His violet eyes glimmered as he stuck his tongue out of a crescent smile. "Even tighter than I do!"

Magolor laughed, suddenly at ease again. "Is that it? You're jealous over a piece of headgear?"

He lifted the small jester in his large hands; up to the brim of his scarf for a secret kiss. But as the two pulled away, Magolor saw that the mirth in Marx's expression had been only temporary. A trap to encourage Magolor to let down his guard.

"I'm being serious for once."

Magolor absentmindedly bounced the jester from hand to hand as a distraction, Marx nimbly skipping and twirling along the stairs of the other's fingers in their little lover's game.

"Whatever you're worried about, don't be. I've spent years researching the Master Crown and its power."

The last two words came out with crushing force. "...I'm fine."

"Great!" Marx stopped, smiled, and hooked one hand on a white gloved finger, orbiting it like a trapeze artist to fling himself up on top of Magolor's head. "Then you'll be fine without it too!"

"...Marx, just let it go." Magolor wanted to crane back to pull him off but knew that he would not be able to turn his head to his satisfaction. He instead swatted uselessly at the air behind him.

"No, I won't." A once soft voice hissed with anger and determination. "Not until I get this creepy thing off your head, Mags."

Magolor's blind grasps grew quicker and more panicked. Marx stretched his wings to their full span and slipped the tips of his bony claws under the thick golden ones that wrapped crushingly close around the head and horns of his lover.

The fake royal finally let the old weakness and helplessness of his former life slip through the cracks in his voice as he began to shout, "Don't! Don't tou-...!" Then, Marx began to pry at it.

"...Ngh!" Magolor groaned, feeling his head simultaneously forced up and pressed down by Marx's determined efforts to de-crown him. It was uncomfortable, but not unbearable. Yet. Still, he cried Marx's name through tight lips, pleading with him to stop before...

His howl of excruciating pain echoed through the room, bounding across every wall like a wounded animal desperate to escape as Magolor violently arched back, flinging Marx off of him like a missile.

"Ugh...!" Marx rolled several times before coming to a stop against the wall. He shook his head to clear the dizziness. "Mags, what the..."

He looked up at his injured king, whose hands were tightly clutching the crown that now appeared to be wriggling atop Magolor's head like it were alive. Magolor shook and shuddered, whimpering at the angry, punitive thrumming of the crown-creature that wore him.

Marx noticed that, in the struggle, Magolor's neck wrap had fallen. His round eyes widened, irises like dots, at what he saw.

"M-Mags...?"

The jester traced the path of the crown-creature's claws with those eyes. Unlike the ones clutching his brow and hugging his horns, these trailed down a ways before they disappeared entirely into Magolor's back, where body and gold fused together.

"Are you...satisfied...now that...you know?" A glint of a golden eye found him, wavering as the light illuminated a stillborn tear.

Marx flew around immediately to face him, kneading his claws gently into Magolor's curled fingers until they unfolded once more for him to hop up into. "How long has it been like this, Mags...?"

"I don't remember... Right after I put it on? Months later?"

Anger boiled over in Marx to the degree that he no longer knew where to direct it. "How do you not remember when this thing suddenly began crawling over your head and growing into your back?! How did you study it for years and not realize it wasn't a stupid crown at all but some sort of...messed up monster?! Do you even HAVE limitless power?! Then use it and get rid of it! Blow it up or take it off or whatever you have to do! You CAN do that, right?"

The lying wizard ducked his head in shame; he did not want to lie.

"...What's it doing to you Mags...? What's it going to do?"

The jester, who in a moment had forgotten forever how to laugh, looked at his liege, his fellow trickster, and his love as the other opened lips split in a most unnatural way. "...I don't know..."

#Kirby #Magolor #Marx Kirby #Marxolor #(They're in a twisted version of Merry Magoland btw)#(Magolor went to fulfill his dreams but of course they're not the dreams he remembers them as. Not completely)#(He's not able to become an evil conqueror either; Marx just wants to be with Magolor and have fun - as long as it IS fun...)#Dess Fanfic #cw: angst #Also Random Dess Lore: I had an idea very similar to this that was lost in the Great Accidental Idea File Deletion of 2022 #So I'm very happy for the chance to re-create this one!#(Edit: slowly correcting typos should have edited it more)

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 1 year

Text

Somewhere Out There Is Somebody (Part 1)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader, Valentine's Day, Soulmate AU

Summary: On February 13, those over 16 receive an empty box in the mail every year. You place items in the box and they appear in your soulmate's box the following day. Until now, you haven't figured out who your soulmate is. But after an unexpected run-in with your least favorite aviator, you discover your other half may be closer than you think.

Word Count: 4030

TW: Soulmate AU, Fluff, Light Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Right in Front of You the Whole Time, Language

Note: Thank you to @wildbornsiren and @green-socks for helping me work out this concept. Your advice really gave me the confidence to pursue this idea! 💖 And also thank you for beta reading, Sam! 😘

I wanted to come up with an original concept for a Soulmate AU and I have not seen one done exactly like this so I figured I would give it a shot! I would love to know what people think of it as a concept as well as the execution in the fic! 🥰

Series Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2

You couldn’t believe it was already February 13th. You had been so preoccupied lately with the last few missions, increased training, and yearly inspections that it completely slipped your mind. Yet there was no denying the date when you checked your mailbox and found a red, heart-shaped box with a ribbon tied around it.

“Oh, shit,” you cursed under your breath as you picked the Box up. It looked exactly the same as it did every year since it had first shown up in your mailbox when you were 16. Just as it looked the same as every other Box that magically appeared in everyone’s mailboxes on this day once they reached that age.

No one knew exactly how it happened or when it started. Some say a form of the Boxes had been around since the 1800s, while others claimed to have found mentions of something like them back in the 1500s, while some scholars tried to argue the proof of their existence as far back as the 1300s or even crude versions in Ancient Rome. But in modern times, a holiday was formed around the arrival of the Boxes, one centered on love and giving. They called it Valentine’s Day after one of the earlier mentions of the event in a poem. And every year at that time, the same thing happened all over the world.

On February 13, the Box would appear in your mailbox. When it did, you would place items into it, things that either showed off who you were or showed your love and admiration for the person about to receive what you picked out. Then, you would place the Box back into your mailbox by midnight. The next morning, the Box would still be there, but it would now be filled with different objects. Objects that your soulmate had placed in their Box the day before.

Over the years, you had received a wide variety of trinkets from your soulmate: various types of candy, love-themed stuffed animals, the occasional jewelry, a wooden rose, a well-worn baseball, a picture frame left empty just waiting for a photo to go inside it, a bottle of half-used cologne, a stack of recipes.

And every year, there was a famous love poem nestled at the bottom. You often wondered if he would write you original poetry if it was allowed, but the Boxes didn’t permit that sort of thing. Nothing handwritten or originally composed, no photographs, no business cards, no blatantly identifiable items of any kind. Anything you placed in your Box that was deemed too telling by whatever magic or energy made the Boxes work remained in your Box when you opened it the next day.

It had only happened to you once when you tried to send a pin with the Naval Academy’s logo on it the year you were accepted, but apparently, it was too much of a hint as to your identity to pass on to your soulmate. It seemed as if the Boxes wanted to help you find your soulmates, but didn’t want things to be too easy for you either.

Glancing at your watch, you cursed even louder as you realized that at this time of night, the only places in the area that might still be open were convenience stores or the Walgreens a few blocks away. However, this close to the deadline, stores like Walgreens that catered to the Boxes were usually packed with last-minute shoppers or picked clean by now. So, with a sigh, you jumped back into your truck and drove down to the convenience store at the end of the block.

Unfortunately, there really wasn’t a wide selection to choose from. Just meaningless junk and useless items. Reluctantly, you settled on a California shot glass (broad locations were usually allowed and your soulmate had once sent the wrapper from a bottle of whiskey so you assumed he drank) and a car air freshener shaped like a heart in one of your favorite fragrances. It was pathetic, but at least it was something.

As you headed up to the sizeable check-out line, you stumbled to a stop as you recognized the man at the end of the line. You stared at the back of his head all day during briefings and meetings so even from behind, it was impossible to mistake him. For a moment, you considered waiting for him to finish checking out or even just leaving the store now without your purchase, but it was almost 11:30 pm and time was running out to get your items into your Box. So, taking a deep breath, you stepped into line.

Sensing someone approaching from behind, Hangman glanced over his shoulder and did a double take as he recognized you. He flinched slightly and his shoulders tensed, yet his usual cocky smile slowly spread across his face. “Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here. I would have thought Miss Perfect would have had her gift planned out weeks ago. Cutting things a little close there, aren’t we?”

You felt the familiar heat rising in your chest that happened anytime you were around Hangman. Ever since the day the two of you had met at the Academy, you had gotten along like oil and water. Always trying to one-up the other or prove you were the best, your interactions usually ended with some sort of heated argument or screaming match. The universe seemed to enjoy your little feud because, by some bizarre twist of fate, the two of you had ended up in the same squadron after graduation. And you were both transferred together to the next one. Then to the same class at Top Gun. And yet another joint squadron change. It was practically unheard of, and yet, since the first day of either of your careers, you had been working together. But it never lessened the antagonistic tension between you. If anything, it only got worse as time went on.

When you were in the sky, the two of you could work together in perfect harmony and despite everything, you were the perfect wingmen for one another. Yet, the moment the two of you got face-to-face on the ground, that was when things became hostile. Just like now.

Trying your best to maintain your composure, you snapped, “We’ve been out of the country for the last two weeks. When was I supposed to get anything? Besides, you’re here too.” Looking down at his hands, you rolled your eyes as you spotted the fighter jet-shaped object he was holding. “A keychain? That’s the best you can do? Wow, Bagman. Some girl out there is so lucky to have you as her soulmate.”

Hangman’s jaw clenched tightly and you could tell he was trying his best not to start cursing you out in the middle of the checkout line. Instead, he just sneered, “Yeah, well, you’re one to talk. I’m sure your soulmate is going to love that tacky glass and a single air freshener.”

You felt your cheeks growing warm as you stared daggers at him, but it wasn’t all due to anger. Though you would never admit it, you knew he was right. This was a pathetic excuse for a present for the person who was meant to be the love of your life. He always gave you such lovely, meaningful gifts and this was the best you could do? You wish there was some way to explain what happened. That this was all due to bad timing and an insanely busy schedule and that you had wanted to give him so much more. But without a way to send personal messages, this was all you could do.

However, just because all of that was true, it didn’t mean you were going to let Hangman get away with pointing it out. Still glaring at him, you said, “As a matter of fact, I know this is exactly the sort of thing he will love. You don’t know anything about him or me outside of work, so why don’t you just shut the fuck up, and worry about your pathetic gift and how disappointed your soulmate is going to be in the morning.”

For a brief moment, the expression on Hangman’s face wasn’t one of anger or rage. It was one of pain. And you realized he probably felt as shitty about his gift as you did about yours. You knew there was more to Hangman than he ever revealed to the other aviators, and at this moment, you felt like for the first time you might have gotten a glimpse of this other side of him. But before you could say anything, he steeled his face once more and whirled around to face the counter without another word.

Even with his back to you, you could see he was still very upset. His broad shoulders were tensed as he stood slightly hunched over and drawn in on himself. Suddenly, you had the urge to wrap your arms around him from behind and press your face against his shoulder blades as you whispered soft apologies to make up for what you had said. But you quickly shook your head to snap yourself out of it. This was Hangman. The two of you fought more than cats and dogs. This was just how it was between you. And yet, as he finished paying and glanced quickly back at you one final time, you couldn’t help but wish you had apologized after all.

That night, you tossed and turned in bed, haunted by what had happened with your run-in with Hangman and how you should have handled it differently. However, all of it was forgotten the moment you woke up and remembered what day it was. Springing out of bed, you threw on some clothes and rushed out the front door.

As much as you wanted nothing more than to run downstairs and return with your Box as quickly as you could, it just wasn’t possible. The entire building had the same thought. As soon as you stepped out of your apartment, you were met with a crowd of people all struggling to make it to the stairwell. The landlord had hired someone for each floor to attempt to control the traffic, but as usual, it was a useless endeavor. There was nothing to do but wait your turn as the horde of people slowly made their way down the stairs and to the row of mailboxes by the front door.

When you finally made it to your mailbox and retrieved the package from inside, you hurried back upstairs with the Box clutched tightly to your chest. Some people couldn’t stand the anticipation and had ripped open their Boxes in the lobby, but you preferred to open yours in the privacy of your apartment. Luckily, getting back up was a lot quicker than getting down. The crowds had thinned as most people made it down to their mailboxes and you were able to make it back in only a few minutes.

Once inside, you leaned heavily on your door, trying to calm your excitement. You waited all year for this moment, to get just the tiniest glimpse into the person who was supposedly your other half. Yet no matter how happy you were, you couldn’t help but dread the feeling of disappointment he must be having seeing what you placed inside your box this year. You just hoped you could make it up to him next year, potentially even in person. But maybe that was too much wishful thinking.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the lid. The second you saw what was inside, you dropped the Box as if it had burned you, spilling the contents across the floor. Gasping, you slid down the door to the ground, your hands pressed tightly over your mouth. You couldn’t believe your eyes. There had to be some kind of mistake. Somehow the Boxes got mixed up and yours was sent to the wrong person while you received this one instead. Because this could not be your Box.

Yet, there was no denying the truth. A piece of paper stuck out of the Box. Glancing quickly at it, you saw that it was your yearly love poem, though this one had a theme of forgiveness and doing better in the future as well as love. As in, asking forgiveness for such a crappy gift this year. Because there, peeking out from underneath the table where it had landed, was the only other item from the Box: a familiar-looking keychain shaped like a fighter jet.

A million different explanations ran through your head as you tried to think of some rational explanation that didn’t end with your soulmate being your wingman. They probably sold these same keychains in thousands of stores across the country and maybe he finally figured out your clues and realized you were a fighter pilot. Maybe he got his pilot’s license this year and this was his way of sharing the news. Maybe he might have gone to an airshow and wished you were there with him. Or…. maybe the keychain you now held in your hand was the same one you had seen last night in the convenience store.

You had to find out for sure. There was no way you could go about your day until you had verified this was all just some big cosmic misunderstanding. So, you grabbed the keychain, your bag, your keys, and your jacket before hurrying towards the door.

Your jacket was only half on as you threw open the door and were almost hit in the face with a fist that was in the process of knocking. Dodging back, you saw Hangman standing in the hallway, his chest heaving as if he had just run the whole way here. Glancing down, you saw that in the hand he didn’t have raised, he was holding your shot glass and air freshener. So, it was true….

At the same moment, he noticed the keychain in your hand. His eyes grew wide as he whispered, “No fucking way…”

“How?” You stumbled backward, and for a moment, you thought you might collapse. But a large hand shot out and grabbed your elbow, steadying you. Hangman had touched you many times before, yet there was something different about this time. It felt safe and comforting and it sent a small shiver across your skin.

You wondered if Hangman felt it too because his grip tightened and he pulled you a little closer to him. His eyes searched your face as he asked, “Are you okay?”

No, I’m not okay! What about this situation makes you think I’d be okay? You wanted to scream at him, but you know it wouldn’t do any good. So, you just pull your arm out of his grasp and take a few steps back. “Yeah, I’m fine. I-I just need a minute.”

You hurried off into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water off the counter. Draining it in just a few gulps, you wipe the back of your hand across your mouth as you try to figure out what to do next. Your mind was running a mile a minute and all you wanted to do was to lay down in your bed, burrow under the covers, and forget this morning ever happened. However, this was not something you could just ignore for now and figure out later. Hangman was still in your living room just waiting for you to return. You knew you had to face him sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner.

As you walked back into the living room, you saw Hangman standing by your bookcase. When you got closer, he held up the picture frame you had received in your Box a few years ago. With a wistful smile on his lips, he said, “You still have this. And you kept it empty…”

With your arms crossed tightly across your chest, you gave a half-hearted shrug. “I never had the right photo with the right person to put in it.” As you reached out to take it from him, your mind flashed to the hundreds of photos with you and Hangman people had taken over the years. “Or I guess I did and just didn’t realize it.”

Jake ran his thumb across the back of your hand. “Sweetheart, I–”

The pet name was the final straw as you felt something snap within you. “No, no, I’m sorry.” You pulled away from his touch and placed the picture frame back on the bookshelf. “I’m sorry, but it can’t be you. It– It just can’t be.”

Hangman turned away but not before you saw the pain flash in his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you. I guess you thought you’d be paired with someone better. Someone you could at least stand to be in the same room with.” He started heading towards the door, but you jumped in front of him to stop him from leaving.

“No, it’s not that at all. Hangm– Jake.” His head was still hung low so you took his face between your hands and turned it so he was staring at you. Taking a shuttering breath, you explained, “It can’t be you because I don’t think I can handle the fact that we’ve known each other for almost 10 years and didn’t know. That my soulmate was right in front of me this whole time and I never…. That I wasted so much time arguing and fighting with him that I never allowed myself to see him for what he truly was.”

But it didn’t matter how much you wanted things to be different. There was no denying the truth at this point. In hindsight, it all made perfect sense. That heat in your chest you felt every time Hangman walked into the room wasn’t hate at all. It was love. Love you thought you could never have so you used it to fuel your anger towards him. You had turned the magnetic pull between you into something ugly and bitter all because you were hurt he could never be yours. And because of that, you almost ruined everything.

Jake must have seen the tears forming in your eyes and the way your lip trembled as you tried to hold it together because his pained expression softened into one of understanding. “Oh, sweetheart.”

He softly took your arm and drew you into his chest. The gesture was so tender and soft that you couldn’t fight it anymore. Tears began to pour down your cheeks as you buried your face into his shoulder. Jake’s hand gently caressed your back, rubbing small, soothing circles across it while you sobbed. And it felt so right. The hot feeling you got in your chest whenever Hangman was around spread throughout you and when he lightly pressed his lips to the top of your head, you thought you might explode.

As your tears began to dry up and your sobs faded, you still remained wrapped in his embrace. In fact, you never wanted to leave it. But there were still some things you needed to figure out.

So, you lifted your head slightly, and whispered, “The worst part is, I know it’s you. I’ve known since the minute I first saw you back at the Academy. Sitting in class with that stupid toothpick in your mouth and the big ol’ grin on your face. You were the most handsome man I’d ever seen, and I instantly fell for you. For a moment, I even let myself imagine you might be my soulmate.” You tilted your head up to look him squarely in the face. “But when I asked you about one of the poems my soulmate had sent me, you said you’d never heard of it.”

Hangman smiled softly with a sorrowful gleam in his eyes. “I remember that day perfectly. You walked up to introduce yourself and when I saw you, I couldn’t breathe. You were the most beautiful person I had ever seen and your voice… When you mentioned the poem, I had a momentary flash of hope that it could be you. But it was a really popular poem and one I had sent a few years before, so I just figured it was wishful thinking. And I couldn’t admit it right then anyway. Because with her – with you – I was Jake. As open and real and vulnerable as I’ve ever been with another person. But when you asked me in class, in front of the rest of the cadets, you were talking to Hangman, and he would never be caught dead reading poetry. So, I lied. And it seems that I doomed us both.”

You shook your head frantically. “No, Jake. This isn’t just on you. I lied too. I was so upset that you weren’t my soulmate that when you started asking me about what sort of music I listened to and you mentioned a bunch of artists, including the band whose CD I had sent you, I said I didn’t know any of them because I couldn’t handle talking to you right then. I just wanted the conversation to be over. But if I had just told the truth, you probably would have realized who I was. So, this is just as much on me as it is on you.”

“Thank you.” He placed another kiss in the middle of your forehead and a wave of warmth flowed through you all the way down to your toes. Then he chuckled, “I guess the universe knew we were idiots and needed as much help as we could get. Maybe that’s why we’re still stuck together through every mission and every transfer. Not even the United States Navy is a match for soulmates.”

“I guess not,” you giggled. Then, turning more serious again, you said, “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I am lucky to have you as a soulmate. And I’m not disappointed in the slightest.”

“I’m sorry too. I do in fact love my glass and air freshener.”

You rolled your eyes. “You called that glass tacky yesterday…. And you’re not wrong. You don’t have to pretend to like it. I know it’s crap.��

Jake grabbed your shoulders and held you away from him so you could see his face. “I’m not pretending! I really do like it!”

“Why?”

“Because you gave it to me.”

You groaned as a huge smile lit up your face and you playfully slapped his chest. “Oh, God. We’re going to be one of those super mushy, romantic couples that drives everyone crazy with how in love we are, aren’t we?”

“I’m counting on it.” There was absolutely no humor or playfulness in his tone. Just complete sincerity. And as you gazed into his pale green eyes, it felt as if you were staring directly into his soul. It felt as if you were staring directly into your own heart.

Jake’s fingers brushed against your cheek before gently tilting your chin back. Your eyes fluttered shut even before his lips pressed against yours. Before this moment, you thought you knew what a kiss felt like, what love felt like. And yet, nothing you had ever experienced felt anything close to kissing Jake. It was like sticking your finger into an electrical socket but instead of pain, your body vibrated with a euphoric buzz of pleasure.

And as he drew you in closer against his chest, it felt as if your hearts began to sync and beat in time until the two thumps melded into one. There was not a single sliver of doubt left in you. Jake Seresin was your soulmate and you couldn’t be happier about it.

When the two of you finally pulled apart, you continued to gaze into each other's eyes. You reached up and ran your finger across his kiss-swollen lips as you asked, “Well, what now, Jake?”

Jake took your hand and pressed his lips firmly against the back of it before he whispered, “Now, sweetheart, I think we start making up for lost time.”

Taglist: @valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter , @sugarcoated-lame, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @blue-aconite, @thescarletknight2014, @dempy, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996, @kkrenae, @zebralover, @startrekfangirl2233

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gallifreyanhotfive · 6 months

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Do you have any recommendations on Dr. Who books/audio format things? I haven't watched the show in a bit because Moffat wasn't my thing and I can't seem to find the old stuff. (If you have any advice on where to find that too I would be very grateful) Following your blog has been a nice reminder of why I liked the show so much. Hope you have a good day!

Aw thank you! Depending on your location, you can find classic who episodes either on BBC iPlayer or Tubi (with ads).

As for books/audios, I'll try to keep this brief as I could write an essay on this.

For books, my favorite author is Kate Orman. Orman writes wonderfully, and my personal favorite is The Year of the Intelligent Tigers. I also really liked Goth Opera, Camera Obscure, History 101, Autumn Mist, Lungbarrow, Divided Loyalties, Somewhere Never etc etc etc etc (so many more but I'm forcing myself to stop here). You can often find free versions of basically every novel (at least all I've looked for) on the internet either as pdfs or epubs or whatever. The Internet Archive is particularly useful. Some examples:

And now for the audios! I personally have sold my soul to Big Finish. I have literally hundreds of recommendations. They do have some audios for free, such as those that came from the Paul Spragg Memorial Competition. You can also find a lot of them (up until Zagreus I think) for free on Spotify. There is also almost always a killer sale going on on the website on top of that too.

As for my recommendations, it's pretty dependent on what Doctor or companion you want to listen to. They even have series centered on UNIT, Romana's Gallifrey, Benny Summerfield, and a ton of other things (including a Masterful special that just had a bunch of Masters fucking around and finding out). I'll put in some of my favorites, one for each Doctor, from what I own (which is far from everything, but I do my best).

One: The Sontarans. It was the first time the Doctor had ever encountered the Sontarans, so he was unfamiliar with them. It takes place during Dalek Master Plan, so Steven and Sara are there.

Two: Lords of the Red Planet! It's a good Ice Warrior origin story and has Jamie and Zoe in it. :)

Three: Terror of the Master. I had pre-ordered it as soon as I heard about it. Three....Delgado Master....what more do you want from an audio? It's narrated by Jon Culshaw.

Four: The Wrath of the Iceni. It was a brilliant historical with Four and Leela and Boudica. Leela gets quite a lesson in this one, first being mad at Four for not helping Boudica and then at Boudica for being cruel.

Okay now we are getting into my favorite Doctors (5-8), so these decisions are going to get difficult.

Five: The Kingmaker! Shakespeare spikes Five's drink to get him absolutely wasted to sneak on the TARDIS, the TARDIS gets hiccups as a result, leading to Peri and Erimem being separated from the Doctor. Shenanigans ensue.

Six: Doctor Who and the Pirates. Six and Evelyn have a really meaningful discussion with one of her depressed students. The third part is a musical!

Seven: The Shadow of the Scourge. Benny Ace and Seven against 8th dimensional eldritch abominations. Seven gets turned into one of these insectoids, and body horror ensues.

Eight: Oh dear I can't choose. At the moment, probably the Great War from Dark Eyes 1. Eight meets Molly and is still grieving here. He is very much doomed by the narrative.

War: The Neverwhen. Lots of the War Doctor is good if you like Time War horror, but this one has a lot of time-as-a-weapon and is well written.

Nine: Battle Scars. A nice short story about that one family Nine saved from the Titanic mentioned in the episode Rose. Has a really fantastic girl in it and a Nine dripping in PTSD.

Ten: The Time Reaver. Ten and Donna! There's this gun that basically slows down time for a single person, so that a few minutes for everyone else is centuries for them. Ten is a self sacrificing dope.

Eleven: The Geronimo boxset is the best in my opinion, but I haven't been able to listen to many of these yet.

Twelve: Another one I haven't managed to buy a lot of yet, but Dead Media is amazing. It's written to sound like a podcast with adverts and everything and is set during his time at St. Luke's. And I cried at the end.

Anyway, I'll shut up now. This was so much fun! Thank you!

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 1 year

Text

Somewhere Out There Is Somebody (Part 1)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader, Valentine's Day, Soulmate AU

Word Count: 4030

TW: Soulmate AU, Fluff, Light Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Right in Front of You the Whole Time, Language

Series Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2

At the same moment, he noticed the keychain in your hand. His eyes grew wide as he whispered, “No fucking way…”

You wondered if Hangman felt it too because his grip tightened and he pulled you a little closer to him. His eyes searched your face as he asked, “Are you okay?”

Jake ran his thumb across the back of your hand. “Sweetheart, I–”

As your tears began to dry up and your sobs faded, you still remained wrapped in his embrace. In fact, you never wanted to leave it. But there were still some things you needed to figure out.

“I’m sorry too. I do in fact love my glass and air freshener.”

You rolled your eyes. “You called that glass tacky yesterday…. And you’re not wrong. You don’t have to pretend to like it. I know it’s crap.”

Jake grabbed your shoulders and held you away from him so you could see his face. “I’m not pretending! I really do like it!”

“Why?”

“Because you gave it to me.”

When the two of you finally pulled apart, you continued to gaze into each other's eyes. You reached up and ran your finger across his kiss-swollen lips as you asked, “Well, what now, Jake?”

Jake took your hand and pressed his lips firmly against the back of it before he whispered, “Now, sweetheart, I think we start making up for lost time.”

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @lorecraft, @green-socks, @heart-0n-fire, @marvelousmermaid, @mayhem24-7forever, @wildbornsiren, @hederasgarden, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @callsign-fox, @imjess-themess, @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87, @forever-sleepy-sloth, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27, @phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3, @petlaufeyson, @cycbaby, @topguncortez, @footprintsinthesxnd, @fantasticcopeaglepasta

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neuroprincess · 1 year

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Abbott Elementary - Melissa dating a foreigner (Headcanon)

Melissa Schemmenti/Reader

Classification: Fluff

Warnings: Alcohol consumption

Word count: +1000

- When she hears your accent for the first time, Melissa is delighted and immediately starts trying to guess where it's from, if she can't figure out the origin on her own she'll ask you personally. You are the new temporary teacher and are at the table talking with Janine when the woman, whom you have never talked to before, sits down next to you, scrapes her throat and with a hoarse voice asks "What's up? What part of the world did this angel fly from?"

- Curious, she will ask everything about your country, from history and culture to your favorite things, this is how you slowly get closer, learning about each other during lunch breaks while enjoying company and food. She is extremely excited to try the cuisine, even more so when you describe it;

- And the food is what brings you even closer together, she rarely invites people from work over to her home, but she has simply become obsessed with a couple of typical dishes you have brought, practically begging you to come over and teach her some. It's a nice evening, drinking wine and sharing recipes;

- It becomes routine to have these evenings, on Fridays you meet in her kitchen, alternating between Schemmenti family recipes, Italian ones and your own. After enjoying the meal you have cooked together there is nothing better than watching romantic comedy movies, playing board games, doing jigsaw puzzles, or simply having a good conversation while finishing a bottle of wine;

- On one of these evenings, while you are showing pictures of your respective families and having a good time telling stories, she leans over to pour you a third wine glass, laughing at a joke with funny words in your language, and loses balance falling on top of you, eye to eye, breathing unevenly, body and breath hot. In a millisecond Melissa's soft lips are on yours, in a gentle and tender kiss that soon becomes passionate, lustful;

- After that, you can be sure, she will officially ask you to date her. Two weeks after the first kiss/night, you are at another Friday dinner, this time is different, there are candles on the table, a rose in the center, Melissa has prepared your favorite dish and is wearing a red dress that highlights each curve of her. With a cheat sheet under the table, she is asking you to date her in your first language, some of the words come out funny but it's very cute and makes your heart melt watching her roll the tongue in pronunciation. Very nervous;

- If you have trouble with english she will make sure to help whatever you need, so dedicated that she spends hours redoing exercises and reading books together, teaching you tips and tricks. She also creates ludic games for practice, personalized cards with words that you have difficulty with or want to learn;

- And she will want to learn your language, it's cute when you find her using an app, repeating the pronunciation and writing down each new thing she learns, the redhead secretly uses a children's activity book to learn the basics, it's simple, didactic and with fun illustrations;

- You will have to learn Italian anyway, at least the basics to be able to communicate with her family. She is going to teach you the essentials, like good morning, greetings, basic questions, and, especially, swearing. All Schemmenti are dirty-mouthed and also like to swear in Italian, knowing how to swear defines survival within the family;

- She loves to find out little things about you and always wonders if some habits are cultural or just something unique to Y/N, curious about every aspect of you. When you speak expressions, in less than a week she starts using them, along with usual phrases and sayings. Melissa loves to learn about your culture's typical dishes, favorite songs, hobbies and dressing customs, and may or may not acquire some of your personality by osmosis without noticing;

- If you travel to your home country she will love to know everything, taking with her travel guides and an, by the way, inseparable dictionary, the teacher refuses to ask for help with the language because she wants to show you how dedicated and good she can be speaking the idiom... but at some point Mel will, after you let her screw around while locals talk fast or expressions she doesn't recognize. It's fun and cute;

- It's a culture shock if there doesn't have a local Football team , she will question ten times if you are sure until she finally accepts. But will support whatever other sports your country has, that's what she does as a big supporter of sports in general;

- She will try everything from tourist attractions to cuisine, you might imagine that restaurants would be her weakness, but no, she will be completely obsessed with little shops and fill a bag with souvenirs for herself, family and friends. Key chains, small decorations, T-shirts, in short, everything that can remind her of your trip will be bought;

- If you bring her to a farm or something similar, well, your girlfriend becomes a total cowgirl, she likes the idea of country life, taking care of animals, enjoying the view, the nature, and, if there are crops, feeling the freshness and the taste of natural food while cooking. Maybe in the future, at some point and with someone who wants the same thing as her, Melissa will consider living somewhere like this or at least having a country house to get a taste of this tranquility;

- Pictures, lots of pictures! She will register every moment and will for sure make a special album when returning to the US, frame some of them to put on the walls, maybe even put one in her wallet along with a copy of the first picture you took together;

- And on this return trip Mel plans to ask her to move in with her, there is a special copy of the key with a keychain placed in a velvet box and when you see it your heart skips a beat imagining being asked to marry her, but you both laugh at the misunderstanding. To be clear, she is probably using a dictionary for this too... and a lot of courage.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary x reader #melissa schemmenti #headcanon

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lilsunflower95 · 3 months

Text

Prove It: Chapter 1 ~ Time to Go

Pairing: Jimin x reader (f)

Genre: Fluff, angst

Rating: T-SFW

Word Count: 2,864

Warnings: Bad breakup with a cheater, depression (difficulty eating, and negative self-talk) a little bit of cursing

Disclaimers: ©lilsunflower95 - As this is my original work, I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes YouTube, Tik Tok, Pinterest, or Wattpad.

Summary: It's been a week since you'd broken up with your boyfriend, but Jimin is determined to show you not all Libras are bad.

m.list (coming soon)

You walked through the shopping center glowering at the Valentine's Day sales that were being advertised in almost every store while teddy bears, roses, and diamonds seemed to mock you.

“Stop being so grumpy.” Your best friend, Meiko, hooked her arm around yours and pulled you in close to her with a smile. “It’s been a week now. You’re too young and life is too short to be hung up on a guy who did you so wrong.”

“I know that.” You heaved a sigh and pulled your focus back to the group of friends you were out with. You shifted the bag on your other arm and let your head lul towards her as the scent of freshly baked cinnamon rolls mingled with the scent of musky perfume. “I just… really thought he was the one.”

“Hey, we’re gonna get food.” Namjoon looked over his shoulder at the two of you. “You two hungry?”

“No.”

“Yes. We are.” Meiko spoke over you, making you shake from side to side as if she could rid your mood with the motion. “You need to eat. Not eating is a form of self-harm and as your best friend, I can’t let that happen. We’ll go get something nice and yummy and healthy and it’ll help you feel better. It doesn’t have to be a lot, but it has to be something.”

You sighed, letting your shoulders relax as you nodded, knowing she was right and wanting to help. You knew you were lucky to have people in your life who cared about your well-being, but if you were being completely honest, all you wanted to do was be at home, curled up under your heavy blankets.

“You guys want sushi?” Namjoon looked back over at the two of you and pointed to a restaurant coming up. Meiko's eyes grew wide as she hurried you to catch up with the others.

“Ooh! Yes! That sounds delicious!”

It sounded terrible, but you didn't want to be more of a downer. You let her drag you to a long wooden table in the corner. Small black plates with neatly arranged napkins were sat at each place while white orchids made up the centerpiece.

The hostess waited patiently with a polite smile while the group sat, even when Namjoon and Jin swapped places so Namjoon could be next to Meiko, then laid a laminated menu in front of everyone. You watched her scurry back to her stand before staring blankly at your menu.

There were items that would have enticed you on any other day, but as your eyes drifted over the descriptions, nothing stuck out. You weren’t even sure you were hungry.

Your brow fell as you tried to remember the last thing you ate. You’d skipped breakfast. He would always make breakfast for you since he got up earlier. You hadn’t had a snack. He’d sit around reading while eating tangerines mindlessly until his mouth ached from the acid.

“What sounds good?” Meiko’s sweet voice broke you from your thoughts, smiling when you blinked her back into focus.

“I…,” you sighed and slumped back in your chair, “I don’t know.”

“Can I order for you then? It’ll be good, I promise.”

You nodded with a small shrug as the waitress came over with a bright smile amplified by her red lipstick. Meiko ordered for both of you, her long nails pointing to each item as she went, pausing thoughtfully as she debated between two dishes with a small hum.

You glanced up and saw Namjoon watching her, his elegant fingers drumming on the table, but not from irritation or impatience. Her bangs had fallen into her face, obscuring her eyes. You grinned to yourself as you watched him desperate to brush her locks away, but unable to do so without giving himself away.

If only he would act on his impulses or just say something.

The waitress gave another smile as she finished taking orders with a nod then breezed away, leaving you to watch your friends erupt into a lively conversation about the playoff party they were organizing for the next day.

“I can make food.”

Was that your voice?

A hush momentarily fell over the table as everyone looked at you.

You watched their faces run a gamut of emotions; some going from surprise to delight, others from delight to surprise.

“Would you?” Namjoon almost smiled as he glanced around the table to get a quick pulse on the idea before looking back at you. Would you? Was that a smart idea? “We would chip in to help pay for everything.”

“Y/N,” Meiko’s voice was in your ear again, “are you sure?”

“It would be cheaper than ordering in.” Hoseok admitted sheepishly, as though it were taboo to be tight on money.

You nodded and swallowed hard. You couldn’t back out now without disappointing your friends. A part of you wanted to make up for being in such a sour mood today. “Of course. I’d be happy to.”

You turned your attention down to the plate before you with a small smile as your face grew warm while Meiko rubbed your arm. Glancing at her, you saw her smile.

“Thank you very much, Y/N. That would be very helpful.”

“I’ll Venmo you some money.” Songwu raised his chin as he slouched against the wall, pulling his phone from his pants pocket.

“I’ll help you cook.” Meiko and Jin looked at each other, both suppressing their smiles at the idea of echoing each other while Namjoon shifted in his seat as they began to laugh.

You couldn’t help but giggle too. “Thank you both. I appreciate it.”

You sat up straighter, suddenly feeling a bit lighter as your phone vibrated with each notification you received while the waitress and a runner sat an array of dishes of varying colors and textures in front of everyone. You stared at the braised lotus roots, one of your favorite dishes but couldn’t muster the desire to eat them.

“So, um, Y/N…” You looked over to your left where Goeun sat, slowly smoothing her waist length hair using one fist at a time while the rest of the table went back to talking about the game. “How have you been doing since Ta….?” She stopped when you slouched back in your chair, the light feeling evaporating like dew drying in the sun.

For the first time in a week, you’d started to feel better, like you had been detoxed from him for five minutes but now his broad smile was right back in the forefront of your mind’s eye.

You knew she hadn’t meant anything bad by her question. She’d never been in a relationship before. She had no idea what you were going through or how something as simple as hearing a name could wreck your mood.

“Oh, no, darling. We’re not going to say his name.” Meiko shook her head, her voice soft as she reached across you to rest her hand on the younger girls’ arm. “To say his name is to welcome him back. He’s in the past where he belongs, so we’re going to leave him there.”

“Oh. Okay. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You plastered a smile on your face and gave a small nod. “Thank you.” You took a deep breath and glanced at Meiko. “It’s been tough adjusting to not having him around as much. We were practically living together. I wanted to… move in together, I mean.”

Her eyes went wide. “Did your parents approve?”

You laughed and shook your head ruefully. “No. They were very strongly opposed to the idea.”

“Nevermind that now. We should enjoy this delicious food and nourish ourselves.” Meiko looked at you when she spoke. You pursed your lips and nodded, shifting your weight.

You hadn’t even told your parents about your breakup. They would be delighted by the news.

You felt your irritation rise at the thought as you took up a sauce package from the small tray and chewed on your lip.

They wouldn’t be able to help themselves from telling you how right they were and how wrong you were. They would do it gleefully.

Goeun gave a soft hum as she slowly tore open the package of her chopsticks and swallowed hard. “It’s a good lesson, I suppose.”

Her voice was soft. You knew she hadn’t meant anything rude by it. You had been very lucky you hadn’t moved in with him. It would have made this whole thing awkward and even more difficult.

“Well, I’m sure you learned a lot from this.”

Your brain told you this was a teachable moment for her, but your pride had been wounded from your failure and was sensitive to criticism. If it had been your parents, you could have held your tongue better, but your friends were supposed to be different. They were supposed to be supportive and patient and kind. You knew you made a bad call dating him, but he was bad in all the best ways. You had to take a chance!

"Yeah, I learned to never date Libras!" You violently shook the sauce packet before ripping it open with your teeth as Jimin leaned forward to see you, his face contorted in disdain.

"Hey! Don't say that. We're not all bad!"

Boosted by your sensitivity and irritation, your eyebrows rose as a burst of confidence exploded deep and clouded your heart away from your more courageous and fragile ego. "Oh yeah?"

"Yes!" He raked his fingers through his blond hair, drawing it away from his brow for a moment before it flopped back into his impossibly warm eyes that stirred something in the pit of your stomach.

"Prove it then." Your voice would normally have wobbled at giving a command in that tone, but now it was strong and demanding. Your fingers grew cold as a shiver tore down your spine, sending a wave of goosebumps over your torso.

Where had that come from? When had you ever been so bold?

But you found yourself sitting up straighter as his brow rose and the table became quieter, the conversation turning into whispers of anticipation while everyone looked at each other then to Jimin.

He looked around before clearing his throat and schooling his face to regain a little control. He smiled at you and licked his lips as his eyes flicked over your figure.

'Weighing my worth' you thought bitterly. 'Just like the others.'

"You want me to? Because I will."

You saw his Adam’s apple bob. You knew he had to take the bet in front of everyone though. You knew that as they turned their attention to you. "You won't last a week."

"Is that a yes?" Jimin tipped his head playfully with a smile as you rolled your eyes.

Oh no. This was a terrible idea. He would be on his best behavior and sucking up to you just to try and prove a point with inauthenticity. What had you gotten yourself into?

You heaved a sigh and forced yourself to meet his expectant gaze.

“Yes.” Just another win, Y/N. Well done. "You can try and do your best. Time will tell.”

He laughed and tapped one end of his chopsticks on the table as he leaned forward. “Aw, come on, Y/N. You gotta play fair and give me a chance.”

You pulled one side of your mouth back as you slouched and plucked up a slice of the root. You’d never considered Jimin as a potential partner. He was handsome. He knew it too and was unafraid to flirt with anyone who would lend him a pair of eyes.

You glanced at Meiko who gave you a sad, doubtful gaze before you sighed and started to eat.

Maybe you could call it off later. Would anyone care if you did? You doubted it. They’d probably forget by the time they got home.

The rest of the group recovered from your outburst and was soon back into a lively conversation and laughing as everyone ate.

When it was time to leave, you waved to everyone and hugged Meiko before starting towards your car, digging in your coat pocket for your keys.

“Y/N, hold up!” Jimin’s voice came from behind you.

You looked back to see him jogging towards you with a smile. Your heart sank as your shoulders slumped. “Oh. Hi, Jimin. Look, I’m sorry for how I acted….”

“Oh! I thought you said I would be the one who wouldn’t last the week. Why are you giving in already?”

You looked to the side to watch a bird search the sidewalk for food with a sigh. “Post-eating clarity?”

He hummed and leaned against your car, his smile growing wider. “I think you like me and you know you can’t resist my charms.”

He lifted his head and wrapped his plush lips over his teeth in an attempt to conceal his smile as his dark brows rose up, daring you to prove him wrong.

You pushed him with a scoff and a roll of your eyes, making him laugh as you shook your head and crossed your arms. “You wish.”

“Let me have your number.”

Your face fell.

What?

What’s a number?

You stared into his eyes as your heart blossomed wings and flew away while your mouth fell open, working (and failing) to form words. “I… uh….”

Jimin waved his hand in front of your face, snapping you back into reality. “I think I have you under my spell already.”

“Oh!” You frowned and shoved your key into the door lock. “Oh, you wish!”

You yanked the back door open and struggled with the tangle of handles of the bags you had gathered in the crook of your arm.

His hand rested on yours, soft and warm, making you still immediately before looking up at him. “Here, please let me help.”

You nodded and watched him quickly and efficiently extract one bag at a time, setting them neatly on the floor of your car then closed the door. He turned back towards you and watched you for a moment.

“So…,” he pulled his phone from the breast pocket of his coat and navigated through the apps then looked back up at you through his lashes, “about your number?”

“It’s, uh…,” you inhaled as you trembled before giving him the number.

He smiled and entered the information then tapped a few times before pocketing the phone while yours vibrated in your purse. “Wonderful. Call me when you get home so I know you got there safely, please.”

You wanted to be snippy, just to make the challenge as hard as possible, but you looked down at your shoes for a second. He’ll get bored of me soon enough. No need to be mean.

You nodded in defeat and looked back up at him, gasping when he brushed your hair to the side, blinking at his boldness.

“Call me.” He reminded you gently as he opened the driver’s door for you. You sank down into your seat, your eyes not leaving his until he closed the door and took a step back.

“Holy shit.” Your lips parted as your heart raced while you turned the engine over and backed out of the space.

You hazarded a last glance at Jimin as he tucked a hand into his pants and waved while you put the car into gear and began to roll forward. You waved back and inhaled deeply.

The city was a blur as you drove a little slower than normal as your mind replayed the evening repeatedly.

The feeling worsened when you pulled your phone out to dutifully text Meiko, and now Jimin, but stopped when you saw the text from Jimin.

Just a simple emoji….

It was just a smiley face but it made your heart feel like it was full of butterflies.

You walked through molasses as you shuffled up the stairs to your apartment with a reeling mind.

None of this was on your bingo card.

Unable to wait a moment longer, you texted Jimin as soon as you locked your door behind you, not trusting your voice to work.

Fri, 20:03 PM

You: Hey Jimin, it’s Y/N. I made it home.

Why were you being such a fool? It was just a text. It was just Jimin. No big deal!

And yet, you’d had to correct the text three times before you sent it.

You’re being ridiculous.

Your phone vibrated in your hand, snapping you away from your pity party.

Fri, 20:04 PM

Jimin: Good. I’ll call you in the morning. 😗

You stared at the text for a long moment. He sure was taking this whole thing seriously. You swallowed hard as your eyes fixated on the emoji. What did it mean? You knew what it was, but how did he want you to interpret it? You couldn’t recall him kissing anyone goodbye. Had you missed it?

You really couldn’t remember.

You shook your head and sank down on your sofa, staring at nothing as you smiled for the first time in a long time.

Next⏭(coming soon!)

Thank you everyone for your support! If you want to be added to this taglist, please let me know and I'll add you!

Taglist: @courtneytheeartist; @thelyricistedan-blog; @danielle143; @sunshine-mrk; @chimthicc

I hope you liked this. I'm really excited to go on this journey. What do you think of it? Please let me know. I'd love to hear your thoughts! My asks are open if you want to be anonymous too 💜🌻

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pixie-skull · 6 months

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Challenge, Alphabet of Crushes:

Pretty self explanatory, just list your biggest crushes of past and present to each letter. I tag @impossiblepeggy @little-bloodied-angel @geebs96 @airasora @thenamelessdoll @confettipetticoats @2009jorose @animagix101 @night130

A= Amalthea (The Last Unicorn)

B= Belle (Beauty and the Beast)

C= Christine (The Phantom of the Opera)

D= Dorian Grey (the picture of Dorian Grey)

E= Esmeralda (The Hunchback of Notre Dame)

F= Frodo (The Lord of the Rings)

G= Granger, Hermione (Harry Potter) *Emma Waston I actually like for her, the character meh, but more roles lately make me really like Emma Waston more, just Hermione was my first role I really liked her*

H= Hemidall (Thor)

I= Inara (Firefly+Serenity)

J= Jasmine (Aladdin)

K= Kala (Sense8)

L= Loki (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

M= Merlin (BBC Merlin)

N= Nomi+ Amanita (Sense8) *I could not choose one as both are amazing*

O= Original Hex Girls (Scooby-Doo! and the Witch's Ghost) *mainly Thorn (center) and Luna(right side)*

P= Padme (Star Wars)

Q= Queen of Wonderland, White Queen, or Mirana of Marmorea (Alice in Wonderland) *mostly like her for she is played by Anna Hathaway and BONUS looks like a live action Amalthea*

R= Rose (Titanic)

S= She-Hulk (1996’s Incredible Hulk: Animated Series) *Cree Summer too a crush*

T= Tara (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

U= Underworld Persephone (Percy Jackson and the Lighting Thief)

V= Vampire Mina (Bram Stoker Dracula) *mention honestly wanted to find a way to mention Winona Ryder as such a huge crush, plus Winona in red dress so beautiful*

W= Wonder Woman (DC Comics, yet mostly Gal Gadot version)

X= Xavier, Charles (Marvel Comics, yet James McAvoy version, and yes I do not mind if someone needs a wheelchair)

Y= Yum-Yum (The Thief and the Cobbler)

Z= Zoe (Firefly+Serenity) * and Wash, as both have such an adorable relationship*

It is very apparent to me I have a type in both women and men. As well, yes, I still have major crushes on the live action character's thespian. I mean dang I was not expecting such types, but one of my friends did observe I tend to like Jewish, Middle Eastern, French, and Indian women, and men twinks XD (often Untied Kingdom). Dyed hair not picky on gender though, as a good look all around.

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videogamedogbracket · 11 months

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Final bracket reveal!

Hello, everyone! After some deliberation (and a very stressful shift at work) I've compiled the final list of participants for this bracket! This post is both a bracket reveal and a confirmation that I have the right characters/images. Be sure to let me know if there are any that need correcting!

Aesop/The Flame in the Flood, Ai/Puyo Puyo Tetris, Alice/The Last of Us 2, Amaterasu/Okami, Annoying Dog/Undertale, Arven's Mabosstiff/Pokémon Scarlet/Violet, Barbas/Skyrim, Barista/Rhythm Heaven, Barkley/Cassette Beasts, Barkspawn/Dragon Age: Origins

Blanca/Shadow Hearts: Covenant, Boney/Mother 3, Boomer/Far Cry 5, Brown/Rule of Rose, Caesar/Wargroove, Cain/Red Dead Redemption 2, Cerberus/Hades, Chibiterasu/Okamiden, Chop/Grand Theft Auto 5, Colonel Ruff/Brawl Stars

DD/Metal Gear Solid V, Digby/Animal Crossing, Dogamy and Dogaressa/Undertale, Dogmeat/Fallout, Dr. Potan/THE DOG Island, Dribble/WarioWare, Duck Hunt Dog/Duck Hunt, Elena/Spiritfarer, Flash/Jetpack Joyride, Flippy Doggenbottom/Toontown Online

Fondue/Rhythm Thief, Gab/Zero Time Dilemma, Garm/Guild Wars 2, Giblets/Elder Scrolls Online, Gretchen/Scarlet Hollow, Hewie/Haunting Ground, Holly/Super Lesbian Animal RPG, Hot Dog/Skylanders, Interceptor/Final Fantasy VI, Isabelle/Animal Crossing

Jackal/Hyper Light Drifter, Jake/Dog's Life, K.K. Slider/Animal Crossing, Koroku/Suikoden III, Koromaru/Persona 3, Lesser Dog/Undertale, Lord Arcanine/Pokémon Legends Arceus, Mame/Yakuza, Mira/Silent Hill, Missile/Ace Attorney

Missile/Ghost Trick, Monty/Spelunky 2, Moonless/Fear & Hunger, Noishe/Tales of Symphonia, PaRappa/PaRappa The Rapper, Pepita/Trauma Center: New Blood, Pickle/Papa's Pancakeria, Pizza/Chicory: A Colorful Tale, Polterpup/Luigi's Mansion, Pom/Pom Gets Wi-Fi

Poochy/Yoshi, Ppodae/Lobotomy Corporation, Princess Pooch/Fossil Fighters: Champions, Pryna/Final Fantasy XV, Randy/Wobbledogs, Rei/Guilty Gear, Ren/DRAMAtical Murder, Repede/Tales of Vesperia, Rex/Fallout: New Vegas, Rex/Fossil Fighters

Riley/Call of Duty, Rukey Greentail/Pyre, Rush/Megaman, Rusty Slugger/Rusty's Real Deal Baseball, Sam/Sam and Max, Sant Angelo di Roma/Final Fantasy VIII, Satty/Breath of the Wild, Sergeant O'Fera/Cuphead, Sif/Dark Souls, Sommie/Fire Emblem: Engage

Spot/Nintendogs, Sumo/Detroit: Become Human, Taroumaru/Genshin Impact, Toby/The Great Ace Attorney, Umbra/Final Fantasy XV, White Beast/Guardian Tales, Wick/Identity V, Willie/Deadly Premonition, Woby/Don't Starve Together, Wolf/Minecraft, Wolf Link/Zelda Twilight Princess, Wulfgar/Etrian Odyssey 2

Again, I can't thank everyone enough for their submissions. Sorry to everyone whose submissions didn't make it in, and rest assured that narrowing the list of participants down was hard.

The bracket itself is going to be posted tomorrow, as well as the first group of matchups. I'll be splitting the first few rounds into multiple groups, just so the sheer volume of contestants isn't so daunting!

And, of course, I wish the best of luck to each of these amazingly good boys and girls. See you all tomorrow!

#video game dog bracket #tumblr bracket #update

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foreverindreamlandd · 2 years

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Awake My Soul • 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

WC: 4.2k

Summary: It’s been 5 years since zombies first began their invasion, and despite everything you’ve been through, you’ve managed to survive up until this point. Now it’s time to face your most dangerous challenge yet….the grumpy, untrusting, fiercely protective Bucky Barnes.

Chapter Note: Forced proximity time!! Y'all might hate or love me for this and honestly I cannot wait to hear what you think LOL. Enjoy ;)

Series Masterlist / Series Playlist

You got to the lookout station fifteen minutes before your shift started, climbing up the ladder to the treehouse-looking structure they built by the front gate.

The original brick wall was wide enough for anyone to walk along, but this post served as the central spot for those on watch. Hanging from the top of the A-frame roof that covered the small square surface was a makeshift chandelier that Bruce put together, with five light bulbs. One in the center that provided a soft, amber glow in the space for you to see what you were doing, surrounded by four smaller bulbs that correlated with the different sides of the wall. Green was East, Blue was West, North was Yellow, and South was Red. He had managed to create some sort of sensors along the trees that made them light up if someone walked through the invisible barrier.

“The color you’ll most often see is yellow, and that’s usually when it’s one of us returning to camp,” Sarah told you when she gave you the rundown of the watch post earlier that day. “We haven’t had an issue other than a walker here and there. It’s pretty rare thanks to the protection of the fog and the Bog.”

You grimaced. “You couldn’t have thought of a better name for the Bog that didn’t rhyme with fog?”

Sarah frowned. “I’ve actually never used both words in a sentence back to back like that. It’s pretty terrible.” The two of you laughed.

Clint was there when you made it to the top of the post, playing around with his bow.

When he looked up, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Need something?”

You shook your head. “I’m here to relieve you.”

This time, his brows shot up. “You’re on third?”

“Yelena made me switch.”

He paused. “And Bucky still has this shift?”

Your nostrils flared, and after a beat you nodded.

Clint only chuckled, shaking his head as he stood up. “What’d you do to piss her off?”

“Nothing!” you protested, crossing your arms. “She says it’s going to help us bond or whatever.”

Instead of a chuckle, Clint snorted. “What a fuckin’ piece of work.” He sighed. “Do you want me to switch with you? You can take second shift and I can be here with Buck-”

“No, no.” you held a hand up waving off the gesture. “I appreciate the offer, but you do enough around here and I need to start earning my keep. Besides, she’s not wrong. Bucky may hate me for the rest of eternity, but if I’m going to stay here I gotta get used to it.”

He shook his head, gaze turning sympathetic. “Just give him-”

“Time,” you finished for him. “Everyone says that.” Annoyance rose within you. “It’s been a month, Clint, and the concept of me breathing the same air as him makes the guy angry. I put the people he cares about in danger, and I gotta own that if I want to be part of Shield.”

Clint’s eyes flashed behind your shoulder, but you were too riled up to notice. “And yes, part of me wishes he could see that I’m not going to burn this place down and that I would gladly die for anyone here, even his grumpy ass. But that’s not going to happen and we all just need to move on and let him despise me for everything I am.”

Your breathing was heavy, but you had finally picked up on the fact that Clint wasn’t mindlessly staring past you, his focus was on something.

Someone.

Dread coursed through you as you turned, knowing full well who was standing behind you.

Bucky’s jaw was locked shut, eyes on yours for a moment before going to the ground.

Clint cleared his throat, making his way to the ladder. “Have a good night, you two.” He muttered a good luck as he started climbing down.

You stood there in silence for a few seconds, and since this was your first watch and you had no idea what you were doing, you were forced to remain there and wait for instructions.

“So…” you started, and that seemed to break Bucky from his spell.

He cleared his throat, moving to one of the corners overlooking the outside of camp. “You can sit wherever,” he mumbled almost incoherently, leaning his back against the vertical wooden post that made up a piece of the wall.

You ran your tongue over your teeth, then walked over to the corner across from his. You stared at him for a moment, waiting for further instruction. When none came, you simply followed his lead and kept your focus on the outside.

Bucky didn’t say anything for the next four hours.

Just kept staring in the same direction, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. And you found yourself continuously staring at him, eyes flickering over to view his side profile glowing underneath the illumination from the light above.

It was torture.

For some reason, you found yourself suffocated by the proximity. He was less than five feet away, and you were certain that if you moved your foot over by just a few inches it would connect with his leg. The idea of touching Bucky at all made you want to set your skin on fire. Your head pounded, the air constricted from your lungs, you couldn’t see straight because all you could think about was how close you two were. Think about what would happen if your boots touched, if he shuffled a few feet closer, if he leaned in and-

“Are you okay?” he asked, brows furrowed with annoyed confusion and your eyes widened at the realization that you had most likely been staring at him for way too long and he could no longer ignore it.

You cleared your throat. “‘M fine.” Your gaze went back to the trees as your face burned, and through your peripherals you watched Bucky follow suit and turn toward the outside.

There was a moment that his thumb started tapping against the wood to some unknown beat, and you nearly spoke up to ask what song he had stuck in his head.

But when you turned to him, you quickly thought against it. Not because he had his normal pissed off at the world expression, but the complete opposite. His jaw had relaxed, his eyes had softened. For the first time since those few good moments you shared before shit went to hell at the Bog, Bucky appeared to be at peace.

It would be the worst thing you could ever do in your life to speak up and put him back in his grumpy state.

So with that, you returned your focus on keeping watch, eyelids growing heavy as the night sky slowly transitioned from black to a deep indigo,then to a soft purple glow as the sun began to rise.

The second Sam was up the ladder to relieve you, Bucky shot up without a word and climbed down.

Sam looked from the ladder to you, a single brow raised. “That bad, huh?”

You sighed, slowly moving to stand, your muscles sore from being in the same position for so long. “Honestly? I thought it was going to be much worse.”

He huffed, then rested a hand on your shoulder. “Look, I told Yelena that this would just be on a trial basis. If you want off this shift-”

“No, Sam,” you said, shaking your head. “You all have done so much for me, the least I can do is suck it up and sit in silence with Bucky for a few hours a day.”

Please don’t take this time from me, you thought out of nowhere.

All he did was nod in response, then moved to settle himself for his shift.

You watched Bucky make his way across the camp.

Instead of going to the bunks to get some sleep, he walked into the middle building.

Was he really going to get a workout in after being up all night?

It’s not like it was the time that he normally went to the gym. That slot was usually in the early afternoon after he had gotten some rest and eaten.

Weird…

You, on the other hand, happily and slowly trudged toward your room and passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow, a soft tapping of an unfamiliar beat playing in your mind and lulling you to sleep.

“So there’s this charge they created for the rifle. It’s this crazy blue color and disintegrates anything in its path.” You grimaced as you remembered the sight of ten walkers being turned to dust. “It was like an icy blue flame. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

You looked between Bruce’s contemplative look and Peter’s wide eyes before looking back at the very amateur drawing you put together for them.

Bruce ran his fingers along the center part of the device, his other hand wrapped around the lower part of his face as he considered the development of such a weapon.

“Holy shit,” Peter finally murmured, “I can’t believe that made a ray gun.”

You and Bruce both stared at Peter for a moment and he blushed, focusing his attention back on the diagram.

“I remember hearing them talk about getting the charge to a certain temperature to generate such a concentrated amount of heat. And that all of those things worked together so that it wouldn’t even make a sound-”

“Because of the frequency created by the force of the heat,” Bruce continued, writing a few equations on the paper.

You nodded. “I just have no idea how they created that charge mechanism….sorry I can’t be more help, Doc.”

Banner shook his head, taking off his glasses to look at you. “Y/n, this is amazing. I would have never come up with something like this.”

“Yeah, like we’ve played around with a bunch of stuff, but who could have thought that tech like this could exist?” Peter added.

You shrugged. “Who would have thought that people would want ray guns during a zombie apocalypse?”

Peter laughed and you winked at him.

“We definitely have a lot to work with to try to replicate this device,” Bruce continued. “Would it be okay for us to come back to you with any questions when they come up?”

“Definitely,” you said. “You know where to find me…bonus points if you rescue me from watch.”

He chuckled. “Heard about that. Things going as terribly as expected?”

You rolled your eyes. “I mean, he hasn’t said more than a dozen words to me in a week, which I guess is better than him yelling at me four hours a day.”

Bruce’s lips turned down in deliberation. “Honestly, that seems pretty promising.”

“Also, I totally offered to take his spot if he was too miserable and he said no without even pausing to think about it,” Peter added.

You felt warmth run through you at the admission, and you couldn’t stop the corner of your lip from turning up.

Bruce pointed a pencil at Peter, brows raised and he smiled at you. “See? What’d I tell ya? Give it time and he’ll come around!”

At that, you grimaced. “Maybe, but I wish time passed faster than a glacial pace when we’re sitting there not doing anything for hours.”

“Why don’t you bring a book with you? Or a journal if you prefer writing.”

You gaped at Bruce. “You can do that?”

“Of course! We have a library at our disposal, and we have the light over the post for a reason. As long as you look up every few minutes to check that everything is clear, there’s no harm in it.”

“Fuck yes,” you groaned, head tilting back to the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Bruce. “You just made everything….so much better. Thanks, Doc.”

He smiled. “Anytime.”

You smiled back before looking at the clock on the wall. “Shit, I gotta get going guys, before Lena decides to punish me with burpees for being tardy.”

Peter scowled. “What are you still doing here? Go! Before it’s too late!”

The two of you laughed as you made it out into the hallway.

“Hey, Y/n!” Bruce called, and you turned to find him jogging over until he was right next to you. He turned around to make sure Peter wasn’t paying attention and when he looked back at you, you suddenly felt nervous. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything?”

You swallowed back the nerves, forcing a smile and keeping your voice casual. “Of course, Bruce. Everything okay?”

He pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. Just…wanted you to know.”

You nodded back, trying to ignore the panic building at the possible meaning behind his words. “Gotcha. Well, thanks Bruce.”

“Anytime, Y/n.”

He turned away and headed back into the lab, leaving you there to deal with the unspoken tension lingering in the air.

That night, you started with your normal routine of relieving Clint a few minutes early and settling into your corner.

You stared outside the wall, doing a quick scan for any unusual activity. Once it was deemed safe, you dug into your pack and pulled out the book you spent hours looking for while browsing the library, nearly buzzing with excitement at the idea of four uninterrupted hours of reading.

It had been years since you had been able to do something like this. Before the invasion, you would spend entire weekends holed up in your room by the window escaping into a world found between the pages of the various tomes you found either at your town library or the personal library your parents had amassed over the years. Then, there were occasionally quiet moments while traveling with your parents and the Eternals, but you could only carry two books with you at a time.

Whenever you found an abandoned bookstore or library, you traded one of the books for a new one for you to read over and over and over again until you basically had it memorized.

The second book, though, was one you would never let go of. It was the one you kept with you ever since the invasion, when your family was forced to run from your home.

You couldn’t help but grab the book from your nightstand, your favorite comfort read, one you knew you could never part with.

Not unless you were forced to.

Not unless you were kidnapped and the small number of items you had were taken from you.

When you escaped from Hydra, you had nothing but a single dagger. It took days of scouring different spots for new weapons and supplies.

And whenever you found an abandoned bookstore or library, you desperately searched the shelves for one title.

It was never there.

And unfortunately, after hours of looking through the Brookfield library, it wasn’t in their collection either.

You hoped you would find it eventually.

Until then, you had plenty of other stories to keep you busy.

Bucky climbed up the ladder quietly, and though you didn’t look up at him upon entry, you could see through your peripherals that he paused and stared at you for a few moments before claiming his usual spot in the corner next to yours.

The relief of having some sort of distraction from his silent existence and close proximity nearly made you want to cry as you turned each page, following Bruce’s orders and checking to make sure no alarm was off and that you couldn’t hear anything approaching.

As usual, there was nothing to be alarmed of. The only thing you could see was Bucky’s head turning in your direction every minute on the dot, as if he were counting the seconds until it was deemed appropriate for him to look over again. And the only thing you could hear was the chaotic tapping of his thumb, much different from the beats he created in his mind.

He was restless.

And then, suddenly, not even thirty minutes into watch, he spoke.

“Are you reading Twilight?”

You looked up from the page to find him openly staring at you now, his brows knit together at the realization.

“You know Twilight?” you asked, answering his question with a question.

He scowled, looking away as if already done with the conversation.

For you, however, it had just started.

The corners of your mouth twitched up. “Have you….have you read these before?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but did turn his gaze back to you. Rather than looking pissed, he just looked annoyed.

You could live with that.

“I didn’t, because I have taste,” he said. “But Becs - my sister - went through a phase and tried to drag me along every step of the way.”

An ache formed in your chest realizing the existence of a sister, who wasn’t here at camp and that could really only mean one thing.

This wasn’t the time for bummers, though. You were determined to get him to say at least ten more words to you tonight.

“So you’re saying you’ve seen the movies.”

His lips pressed into a thin line and you scoffed.

“You’re telling me that the CGI baby and the weird blue filter used in the first movie didn’t immediately compel you to binge read the entire series?”

That’s when it happened.

The greatest moment probably of your entire life.

Bucky Barnes laughed.

It was a chuckle that only lasted a beat, but it wasn’t something hidden behind a groan of a scoff like before. You had caught him so off guard that he couldn’t help but let out a deep, grizzly, baritone sound of amusement.

And just as Sarah said over a month ago, it was contagious, and you breathed out a small laugh yourself in wonder.

Somehow it got even better, because then he made a fucking joke.

“The werewolves definitely almost pulled me in, but then one of them imprinted on a literal baby and I was quickly turned off by that.”

You nodded. “The whole Nessie thing was a bit of a mess, I’ll admit. But that’s what’s so good about it! It’s bad….but also amazing.”

All you got in response was a grunt of acknowledgement, and you felt a newfound boldness to keep going.

“Okay then, if you’re not a Twihard, what’s your favorite book?”

There was a pause.

“Please tell me it’s some cheesy romcom,” you said.

He glared at you again, once again without any true malice. “The Hobbit.”

“Fuck yes, that’s such a good one! And it’s on the shelves. We could do a book club and everything.”

In a flash, you witnessed Bucky’s eyes lighten with excitement and then immediately switch to a dim, lifeless gaze. “No.”

You swallowed, caught off guard by the emptiness in his voice.

It was more conversation than you had ever dreamed of having, and you knew that if you ever wanted to have it happen again you would have to know when to stop pushing him.

For now, hearing his voice, his laugh, seeing something other than disdain in his eyes, it was enough.

The next evening, Bucky decided it was time to continue the conversation.

“What’s your favorite book?” he asked just as you got to the part where Bella had basically jumped Edward in the meadow.

You looked up to find him staring outside the wall, but then he slowly turned his head to you when you didn’t respond.

“Is it Twilight?” he asked with a cocked brow.

You hummed, shaking your head. “Top ten for sure, but no.”

Silence. “So…?” Bucky urged.

“Ella Enchanted,” you said finally, closing the book and positioning your body to face him.

He frowned. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s a kids book,” you replied. “And a stellar movie with Anne Hathaway. But it’s been my comfort read since I was, like, ten or something. I even took it with me when we had to leave after this-” you waved your hand around, “-started to happen.”

Bucky nodded in understanding. “Do you still have it?”

You shook your head. “Lost it during the Hydra shitshow.”

“Is it in the library?” he pressed.

Another shake of your head and he nodded again.

“Don’t worry,” you said, “I’m sure I’ll find it by the time you’re done going through the Twilight Saga.”

He scowled, an expression you realized you loved way too much. “There is no way in hell.”

“Come onnnn,” you whined. “For the book club!”

The right corner of his lip twitched. “No way.”

You sighed dramatically, opening the book back up. “You’re no fun, Beefcake.”

He groaned.

You smiled.

The next day, you went to the library to grab New Moon.

When Bucky got up to the watchtower, his eyes landed on the copy of Twilight resting in his corner.

Even with your eyes glued to the page of your book, you could feel him glaring at you.

“Just suck it up and read it,” you said, still not looking at him. “You can thank me later.”

With one long, dramatic sigh, Bucky picked up the book and sat down, opening up to the first page.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from grinning like an idiot.

“Look,” Bucky started, waving the book in the air. “I just don’t understand why she’s so in love with this dude!”

He had been going on for at least five minutes now, you just sitting there listening to him ramble.

“Sure, he saves her from those guys in the town or whatever, but then nearly kills her by driving like an idiot-”

“But he has super enhanced bat senses!” you argued, fighting to keep your face serious.

That was when Sam climbed up, brows already furrowed from hearing actual conversation being shared between you two as he made his way up the ladder.

Bucky ignored Sam and glared at you. “Okay, but what about other cars on the road? I saw that scene play out in the movies. They had to weave and bob around vampire boy and totally could have caused an accident!”

He stood up and you followed suit, giving Sam a nod and a little shrug as he continued to stare at you.

Bucky, on the other hand, continued to talk as he made his way down the ladder. Usually, you would wait for him to race down and run away as quickly as possible, but since he apparently wasn’t done with this conversation, you decided to follow right behind.

“Okay, whatever, he drives like an idiot and tells her that he basically has anger issues and basically that he’s dangerous for her. And in the movie, she like made him follow her into the woods by the school, which was already dumb. In this, though? He drives her to an isolated place a mile into woods where it would take weeks for someone to find her body? And she’s still all heart eyes?”

He got to the bottom, and stood there until you stepped onto the ground before walking alongside you.

“It’s called love, Beefcake! Sometimes you do dumb shit like go into the middle of the woods with a vampire who is over 100 years old and really wants to drink your blood!”

Bucky shook his head, not stopping as you passed the middle building which had been his normal pit stop after watch. You felt something inside you ignite with excitement, trying desperately to keep your cool even though a part of you was certain that you had fallen asleep during watch and all of this was a dream.

“I can’t believe I let Becca read these when we were younger. I basically gave her the go-ahead to seek out dangerous, blood-sucking bad boys.”

You laughed. “Well, at least now you know to be on the lookout for any pale man who asks you to go to an abandoned field so he can confess his undying love for you. But it’s clear that you hate the book, so just know I appreciate you giving it a try and I’ll return New Moon back in the library when I’m done.”

You looked over just as he clenched his jaw before grumbling something incoherently.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Youcanbringitwithyouwhenyou’redone.”

You bit your bottom lip and smiled, slowing your steps to a stop as you approached the front door to the bunk house.

“You got it, Beefcake. Anything to keep book club alive and well.”

Bucky smiled back, crystalline blue eyes locked on yours for three glorious seconds.

And then they widened, his lips turned down, and he looked to the ground as he cleared his throat.

“I should go,” he said sternly, turning on his heel and storming over to his usual destination, the gym.

His body tensed more and more with each step he took, and you saw his hand clench so tightly you wondered if his palms were bleeding from his nails digging into his skin.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, memorizing the look of his smile from just a few seconds ago.

Baby steps.

Chapter 6

#Bucky x reader #Bucky x you #Bucky x y/n #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #awake my soul #ams #zombie au #zombie apocalypse au

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