#new and I was like — huh. I think maybe he might really be over 50% just a dick
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Final chapter of The Riot Act link
Summary: In which the Scamanders write a lot of letters; Uncle Hesiod is effectively blackmailed by every single member of Newt’s family (including Newt himself); Theseus shows every shade of who he is and who he will become; and Newt and his father have a bit of a “glow-up”, as the kids say in the year of our lord 2023. (Click for relatable Newt & Theseus meme.)
Also, 11-year-old Newt dropping truths: “I know I annoy people, Uncle Hesiod, but I think all creatures must be met with a baseline level of compassion, and I wonder if I am sometimes not afforded that because I am different.”
Gifs by @whumpypepsigal
Excerpt (opening letters):
7AM
Floo Telegram (extra charge for weight)
Helios Scamander to Rowan Scamander
Dear Rowan,
Wanted to let you know that Newt’s day at the Ministry was rather awful. It sounds like he comported himself reasonably well, while Hesiod—on the other hand—behaved beastly. I expect we’ll be dealing with the damage for a week or so. No “fairies”, per se, but he’s gone a bit more quiet than usual, so I’m giving him the day with Theseus and his projects to see if that helps.
All that being said, Newt is—strictly speaking—physically all right, so there’s absolutely no need to worry on that front. (No doxy disasters or broken limbs, thank Merlin.) However, you and I will need to have a good long talk, I’m afraid. Make some decisions about the nature of our own relationship with Hesiod and my family generally, as well as revisit more realistic plans for Newt’s future. And then also, on quite a more basic level, we must contend with the now (while somehow not reinforcing the mess Hesiod has dumped into our laps—he planted some rather upsetting ideas in Mud’s fertile little head). Nevertheless, our son went on a bit of a solitary nighttime wander after, more or less, lying to me by omission… So that’s obviously behaviour that must be addressed. I’ve just absolutely no clue how to do it.
Anyway - I’ll be bringing him home tomorrow after work. (And yes — Theseus and I have both enchanted him to within an inch of his life. If he so much as sneezes before we’re back in Derbyshire, we’ll know it.) T has requested to come along. I shall tell you all the details in person, as I’ve got my hands surprisingly full on the one with an enraged 19-year-old who still thinks I can’t tell when he’s scheming; and, on the other, with an 11-year-old, who apparently requires magnificently compelling evidence just to convince him to eat his damn breakfast.
With love,
Helios
7:20AM
Floo Telegram
Rowan Scamander to Helios Scamander
Helios — So sorry to hear it went horribly but happy to know he mostly behaved(?). Unsurprised he fled the flat if upset, though still unacceptable. (How in the world did he get past you, though?) Must admit, am quite worried without details, esp. if T is concerned enough to leave training. Floo chat, please? Or at least summarise? Regarding breakfast: If you move whatever N is working on to left of his plate and then push plate twd him, he’ll typically eat w/out realising he’s doing it. (But thank him when he finishes, so he notices he’s done the routine—we don’t want him starving at Hogwarts…!) Please give both our boys my love.
8AM
Letter
Helios Scamander to Hesiod Scamander
Dearest brother,
I’ve been made aware that Newt’s visit to the Ministry yesterday did not go the way either of you had hoped. Certainly, I heard the tale from Theseus who had had to wrangle it from Newt in fits and starts, but the boy keeps incredibly detailed notes about creatures or interactions that fascinate, inspire, or confound him; and I’d assume he’s classed yours as confounding. I’ll be sending him to the grocer at some point, during which time I plan to unashamedly steal his journal and read all about it myself. So you may rest assured the truth shan’t be twisted by the party line. (That’s a Muggle invention, Hesiod. Quite novel. Not that you would know.)
So, here is the heart of it, brother:
I did not think I needed to make this clear as I’ve already done so in the past… But I do not need your assistance in rearing my son. I have appreciated your efforts to show interest and befriend him this past year, but I’m afraid I will be putting a stop to that, as well. You will not lay hand or wand on him. You will not reprimand him. You will not disclose information—to him or anyone else—that Rowan and I have kept to ourselves for a reason. You will bring any and all concerns directly to me instead of breaking the heart of a child. Furthermore, Newt will be doing any future career preparation with myself or with Rowan; and you are not to even speak to him without one of us present.
Finally… Newt has requested he be allowed to write you an apology for his behaviour—he is a far better man than me, because I didn’t intend to make him do that—as well as “tell [you] some thoughts”. As Newt’s not typically one for telling anyone thoughts of any sort if they’re not specifically about animals, I’m hardly going to discourage him... However, because we will be using this as an opportunity to practice letter-writing and grammatics, I expect it may take a few days, as his Mum and I are both busy through Saturday.
A word of warning: Theseus has just left the flat with a look on his face that usually means trouble, so I do hope you enjoy the visit.
Your loving brother,
Helios
P.S. - Please send any mail beginning tomorrow evening to the Derbyshire address.
8:20AM
Floo Telegram
Helios Scamander to Rowan Scamander
Rowan — Thanks for suggestion. Breakfast eaten. (Who knew earthworm digestive systems were so compelling.) Regarding floo: Can’t while N’s around. But he’s more chipper now, so I’ll try to have T take him out for chips at tea.
The summary is that N repeatedly spoke out of turn + H rather severely punished him. Please don’t discuss in detail w N until home. T + I are handling it delicately and T’s off to MOM right now so there may be nothing of H left for you to worry about, anyway
#literally choosing an excerpt from this was impossible bc there aren’t stand alone moments that don’t ruin the character arcs when pulled#in isolation#ah well#fic: the riot act#my stuff#newt Scamander#Theseus Scamander#oc ch: rowan scamander#oc_ch: Helios Scamander#oc_ch: Hesiod Scamander#I didn’t mean to make Hesiod as dislikable as he is — every time I tried to give him redeeming qualities Helios showed up and said something#new and I was like — huh. I think maybe he might really be over 50% just a dick#and here we are#I mean all the characters are pretty complicated but he still sucks lmao#Scamander brothers#autistic newt scamander#young newt scamander
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[intro] new notification!
msby!atsumu x reader || w/c: 560
Atsumu discovers that the only thing worse than online dating, is dating advice online.
a/n: oh look at that, another atsumu fic!! this one is less stressful for me though. its pretty short, with a cute little plot that won't cause me planning paralysis. making edits for atsumu is always so fun <3 i hope you'll read it!!
[chapter 1->]
r/relationship_advice • 3 hours ago
u/fattytuna95
I want to ask out my twin brother's girlfriend.
It's not as bad as it sounds. She's not really his girlfriend.
I'll try to explain.
We're colleagues, sort of. (Me and her— I'd rather starve to death than work for my brother.)
Last month, someone took a picture of us leaving the office. I was only walking her to her car but the person who took the picture wanted to imply that we were dating.
And that wouldn't have been an easy rumour for her to handle, so I got my brother (identical twin) to post a picture with her on his socials.
Obviously, just one picture wouldn't work to convince anyone, so they've been meeting up a couple times a week (they have similar interests, so they were friends already) to be seen together.
Now here's the issue— I never saw her like that before, and I thought it was just fucking annoying to watch people be lovey dovey, fake or not... but one of my other colleagues said it sounded like I was jealous.
And fuck, I am.
Do you think she'd be mad if I asked her out? I reacted pretty badly to the original picture. And I'm worried my brother likes her for real (those photos they're posting are kind of convincing...)
Edit: for everyone asking, no, I can't ask my brother. he'll know why, and if he really does like her I don't want to mess with it. and if he doesn't he won't let me hear the fucking end of it. i can hear the best man speech already.
↑ 25 ↓ •••
u/unicornpoodle • 2 hours ago
lol dude (I'm assuming you're a dude, unless you're a girl who unfortunately is built exactly like your brother) are you sure you like her and aren't just jealous of your brother being happy? fake or not
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u/fattytuna95 • 2 hours ago
yeah i'm sure. I cut out a picture of one of my teammates and pasted it over his ugly mug and it made me even angrier.
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u/msbygirlie_13 • 2 hours ago
Oh hey!! I recognise you from the atsumu miya subreddit!! That's so cool you have a twin just like him!! And his brother got a gf recently too!!! (I think they're fr tho lol.)
Okay hmmm this is a tough one. wdym when yuo said 'reacted badly'??? and what was so bad about the rumour in the first place if it's an option for you now???? this is kinda weird ngl.
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u/fattytuna95 • 2 hours ago
do you really they're the real deal???
I kind of laughed. And now that I look back at it, I think I might have looked way too eager to put it out there that we weren't dating. like I was disgusted or something. :( I wasn't, I just didn't want her to have any trouble. :( :(
I'm sorry, I can't explain the situation any more for privacy reasons.
↑ 20 ↓ •••
u/guiltyassassin_ • 1 hour ago
well you don't have to talk to either of them... you said someone took the original photo. maybe they're still stalking?? ask them what they think?
lmfao you guys are either celebrities or highschoolers with this kinda drama
(also you keep calling your brother ugly, but then say you guys are identical? huh????)
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u/fattytuna95 • 55 minutes ago
This is kind of an insane idea, but it does make sense. Maybe I'll do it.
(and you wouldn't get it.)
↑ 2 ↓ •••
first chapter tomorrow! please like/reblog/reply/send me an ask if you enjoyed it :) it keeps me going lol
[my other fics->]
divider: @/cafekitsune
#atsumu miya x reader#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#fluff#my fic
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Nadeko only likes retro games but retro is a constantly shifting status that encompasses more games with time under the label as technology changes, one’s perception of what counts as retro can be partially locked to what year you were born, the PS2 and n64 is something some people would easily consider retro but others believe it’s only anything backwards from the famicon, many could firmly believe that the Atari era is where the retro limit ends.
The year monogatari takes place is non specific because it’s technically should be 2006-2007 but it’s always written as if it takes place in the current year, technically turning several monogatari characters into zoomers but not always shifting a characters traits sense, by getting sent into the future kanbaru becomes more technologically illiterate.
Other characters in a sense don’t need to make that change like araragi who’s always been a loner who kept away from all social including media. Hitagi adapts easily like she’s always done this connecting easily. Higasa entering her Twitter era doesn’t cause any issues as she became more prominent in later arcs instead of earlier arcs. Final example being Sodachi, who was introduced in an even later arc than Higasa but isn’t good with technology due to her past and present.
All these examples show that how a character adapts is partially dependent on how it fits into existing character details but will change if it fits the narrative. Nadeko clearly likes famicon era games but with the shifting era would Nisio consider it to be retro enough to superimpose it on to their character? I’d think he’d at least vauge about it (as he’s known to do), like:
————————————
Its interesting to set up my consoles in my new apartment, I couldn’t bring much but I wanted at least a few to play.
I thought this TV might be too new for a console this old but really all I needed was an adapter and all was well.
Ononoki chan showing up at my door with the cord was weirdly convenient. Maybe I mentioned it earlier.
Yotsugi leans over my shoulder to look at “Bats and Terry” (1987) for the Famicon.
Laying her head into the crook of my neck like a cat she says,
“It has less shapes than I remember.”
“Ah, that must be because it’s not on a CRT tv.”
Those really were more ideal.
“The box oneesan played it on was different I tell ya.”
“Hmm,
If not CRT or LCD then what?”
“It’s nothin complicated Nade-chan, I just watched tha’ show on an ipad.”
Ah, what a critical failure of assessment.
“Well I guess this one is too niche for a remake, I’m not really a modern gamer so it works out fine.”
“No this game is definitely modern.”
“Huh?”
“There’s nothing more topical and modern than this, ‘tennis for two is innovative even now’.”
“Those games are even beyond retro they’re over 50 years old!”
“But they’re derivative, nothing is more retro than the old ball and stick.”
“You mean the ball and sword?”
“Perhaps but jitsu tsuki ball came first.”
“Ah, are you perhaps thinking about RaRa Chan? I getsu.”
“Oh dear, you art right, I derived too much, I may even go back to the tree. Perhaps more is retro than I thought, good thinking Nadeko Chan.”
She nodded sagely, snugging closer she said.
“Finding what makes something retro is an arduous task ain’t it.”
She’s really sliding around accents for this bit,
“I suppose that it would depend on what you were born wouldn’t it?”
“What year were you even born?”
“Hmm, I didn’t give it in otori right? I suppose it’s-“
“Bzzzt!” She states, making an X over my face with her arms.
I hear myself die in game, I’m entirely bewildered.
“What was!-“
“You can’t state the year the story won’t make sense otherwise.”
This kind of meta break didn’t require me dying…
“Deepest apologies Nade-San… I’m sorry for this character break, I’ll do anything for forgiveness.”
….
I don’t have much to say to that since she just does that anyway.
…
It’s rather shameless.
“Well if the year is 20XX shouldn’t I be born in uhh…”
Wait this might not make sense,
no I thought it was 19XX, but!
“You’re better than 19XX, not that IQ means anything.”
What does that even mean, is that an English pun?
Batsubatsu is more a sound at that point isn’t it?
“It’s the reiwa era so shouldn’t I be born in 20XX and it be 20XX at this point?”
“Terrybatsu is an interesting way to look at it.”
That was terribaltsu,
“Similarly shouldn’t 100 be closer than 20?”
“I suppose but we aren’t really grilling with it.”
Let’s put that aside
“Teori might be closer than toori to terry.”
I was never good at language
“I wouldnt want to refer to that chicken when even even thinking about about batsuterry, I’d rather grill him.”
“Tari for Tori?”
“I’d gatekeep him that hard, yes.”
This is decoying the point by now,
“It’s a neo era not a retro era, so maybe it’s time to consider consoles others grew up with as retro by this point.”
Hmm, really I’d say that:
“Fantasizing about the past is hard, huh. It’s strange to look at the past in a way.”
“The 1980s don’t exist anymore, not even for batsu. I guess it’s came closer to yasu than batsu, baseball goes beyond batsu even.”
But for batsu and terry shouldn’t it be baseball and not banana?
“It’s bananas I tell ya!”
…..
I suppose this is the punchline in a way.
Or maybe the opposite of one, a batsu-d batsu.
————————————
I wanted to be semi authentic with this so I tried to add puns that don’t translate, puns that do, and an extended bit about concepts of translations that don’t fully work
I’m writing this before I actually finish writing down everything so let’s see how much ends up applying
I use an amount of gorowase because I thought it might work
026 (rei-to-ro) retro
20(ni-o) neo
82(ba-tsu)
89(ya-kyu) word for baseball
83(ya-su) word for useless
87(ba-nana) banana
84(ya-shi) palm tree
And for my “gorowase that don’t actually work or don’t think work”:
19(i-kyu) a joke about IQ ( the pronunciation of I isn’t “eye” but “e” like “ichi”)
20(too-rei) a bad pronounciation of terry for a bit that doesn’t entirely work but also toori is a Japanese word that as toori ni roughly refers to “in a similar way”
100(ta-rei) also a joke on the pronunciation tare is also a general term for sauces that go with grilled food
Yakyu is a Japanese word for baseball
Jitsu getsu ball: is one of the earliest versions of bilboquet (ball and small tree) and translates to sun and moon ball roughly and I think that just puns nicely to the alt reading, getsu also sounds like get you
Otori means decoy
CRT: is used as shorthand for critical in table top games and their spiritual successors rpgs
A CRT tv is an old style of television that has a lot of interesting differences from the modern lcd screen but for the sake of the bit at the beginning, what nadeko was referring to was the better definition of older games, if you see how retro games looked on CRT tvs vs how they look on modern LCD screens there’s a good amount of difference, many swore old video games looked better in their childhood and there’s actually a decent chance they did since these games were built for that specific TV, if anything I highly recommend looking at comparisons and seeing just how different many looked, while old games were pixelated it’s important to consider why sprites look like that and it makes some parts of the aesthetic make more sense, the lcd versions of retro experience is kind of dishonest in a sense as the tv would literally smooth out edges and preform effects that don’t translate well, while crt shaders do exist many times it’s not totally accurate as it’s an emulation of the base function of a television that worked entirely differently so its something to consider. Anyway nadeko is a retro otaku and would totally have this information
Outside of that I ran with the reading of “X” being batsu, which can Be thought of as the word bats (in either sense), batsu as incorrect or penalty, as epilogue/postscript, batusbun being afterword, clique, or even circumstance.
Bats and terry: classic shonen baseball manga with an old game, works for the bit about bl astonishingly well it’s anime and game came out in 1987 so it’s in nadeko’s gamer range, plus I can run my bit about Kendama with my ball and stick bit
I don’t mention teo the magic planet fin fin solely for the bit bc Im really into the history of pet games and knowing more about pet games but nadeko would probably not, the genre was started by the night trap guy with the technology that would be used to make the funny streamer game facade (which he also made), dogz (1995) game of all time, if tamagotchi is retro so is this because it literally predates it, but nadeko isn’t a pet games person probably. This was a considered pun and I’m leaving in the blurb bc it’s my post
Teori (tadatsuru) is mentioned for the bit on names to pluck and to caress and holds a casually meaningless phonetic resemblance to terry
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drink on the go! having a flight in the summer sounds nice,,,
Maeda, narrating - Honestly, it’s just nice to have something to distract from class.
Maeda - …Maybe I should make more of an effort to pay attention.
~*~
//Maeda sits at his desk, head resting on his arms as he watches his classmates interact.
Maeda - Tsurugi’s been gone for awhile…
Maeda - …
Maeda - He should be coming back any second now.
//The door swings open- sure enough, it’s Tsurugi.
Maeda - Knew it.
Tsurugi - Hello hello!
Tsurugi - Sorry, I really only meant to leave for a moment,
Tsurugi - Anabuki was just so excited to talk…
Kobashikawa - …Lol.
Tsurugi - You need to hang out with him more, Kobashikawa. For everyone’s sake.
Kobashikawa - We have… I forgot what, but something’s planned for tomorrow.
Tsurugi - …
Kobashikawa - Maybe you should befriend him, Tsurugi.
Tsurugi - Honestly, I think we should do more with 79-A in general…
Tsurugi - Hm-hm… anyways!
Tsurugi - So, I know everyone’s excited for the New Year, whether they’re heading home, visiting family, or sticking around school,
Tsurugi - But Anabuki and I got to talking a little bit back, and thought it might be nice to do something for Christmas as a class!
Tsurugi - We looked for something we could do, and then got it approved, and blah, blah, blah,
Tsurugi - To make a long story short, we’re going to play Secret Santa!
Tsurugi - Pretty much, everyone’s going to draw a classmates name, and they’ll have until December 20th, a week from now, to get them a gift!
Tsurugi - Participation is mandatory. You know who you are, and you know I will enforce participation.
Tsurugi - You know what I mean, and you know that I’m dead serious.
Higa - …
Inori - …
Tsurugi - You don’t have a choice.
Tsurugi - So, now that’s been established.
Tsurugi - I’m going to go ahead and write everyone’s name down, then…
Tsurugi - Find something for us to draw names out of…
Tsurugi - And whoever’s name you get, you’ll have a week to get them something.
Tsurugi - Try not to go above, like… 7000 yen, okay?
Tsurugi - If you find something perfect for someone and it’s ¥50 over budget, that’s alright-
Tsurugi - It’s just to avoid something like… buying a person a house, to get hyperbolic with my example.
Tsurugi - Okay, any questions?
Iranami - …
Iranami - If… I wasn’t at school on the 20th, what should I do?
Tsurugi - Oh! You can just leave your gift with me, and I’ll give it to whoever you got!
Tsurugi - Then, as far as getting your gift, whoever pulls your name can just give it to you early.
Tsurugi - If that doesn’t work for your plans, or if anything else comes up for anyone, just let me know, and we’ll work through it!
Tsurugi - Everybody ready?
//There’s no more questions.
Tsurugi - Great!
Tsurugi - Hm…
Tsurugi - Maeda, you want to go first?
Maeda - I- sure, yeah.
Tsurugi - Be sure to keep the name you get a secret- don’t tell anyone!
~*~
Maki - …Huh. Well, I think I can work with this…
Higa - …This is so dumb. Tsurugi, shouldn’t you be respecting my right to choose? I don’t want to do this.
Tomori - Ooh, okay… yeah, I have some ideas… got some questions too though.
Hatano - Oh, cool! Okay, okay, this is great.
Inori - …Just gonna gift them a first aid kit…
Yamaguchi - So, this is the person I need to get a gift for? …I’ll nail this!
Uehara - Cool, cool… don’t try to look at my paper, Tsu! Top secret stuff, I can’t share it, boss’s orders!
Kobashikawa - I… have no clue what to do… hey, Ōtori, wanna trade?~
Iranami - …Well, I don’t think it’s impossible… I may need some help though.
Kisaragi - Okay… wait, I actually might have a decent idea…
Kurokawa - Huh… wait, Tsurugi, I’ve got a question…
Taira - Hehe… I think I know what to do, so long as the price works…
Maeda - …This… I have a week, I’ll work something out…
Ōtori - I’m sure I can find something… maybe I’ll check Ōtori Mart.
Mekaru - I… I think I’m best suited to be this persons gift-giver…
Tsurugi - And left for me is… perfect! Super great luck for me.
~*~
Maeda - I got Maki…
Maeda - We’re not very close, so I don’t know what she’s interested in.
Maeda - Maybe I can ask Tomori? Or would that be breaking the rules…
Maeda - …Wait, why do I care about those?
Maeda - …I guess it’s kinda fun to think about getting someone a gift all secretively…
Taira - Hey, Maeda.
//Maeda gives her a small wave as she smiles.
Maeda - …It’s been a while since you cut your hair, yeah? Your side bangs are starting to curl funny.
Taira - Yeah, that’s right.
Taira - I was thinking about cutting my hair soon, but it’s kinda nice to have longer hair in the winter…
Taira - If I started leaving it down, it’d keep the back of my neck warm.
Maeda - …
Maeda - I was going to say this was a strange conversation to be having, but I was the one who brought it up, huh?
Taira - You did this to yourself, Maeda Yuki~
Maeda - Mhm…
~*~
Maeda - I’m glad that the first year of class is just general studies for me, since I don’t have a talent…
Maeda - I need to get caught up in my education, if I was expected to be taking specialized classes like the others,
Maeda - Then I’d feel embarrassed about where I am academically.
Maeda - It’s really nice to go to a school that has so many amenities…
Maeda - Anyways, I’m well on track to be up to standard, if not a bit ahead for my age, by the time the school year ends.
Maeda - Now that the school day is almost over, it’s just time to join the others again.
Maeda - Still haven’t had any ideas for Makis gift though…
#dra#sdra2#au#yuki maeda#kiyoka maki#mitsuhiro higa#ayame hatano#kizuna tomori#kanata inori#kakeru yamaguchi#kinji uehara#haruhiko kobashikawa#satsuki iranami#mikako kurokawa#yamato kisaragi#rei mekaru#teruya ōtori#akane taira#tsurugi kinjo#holiday event 2022
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Ok so like I saw this prompt post on Pinterest and I didn’t really think anything of it until I was driving home listening to 70s music and thought, “huh I love 70s himbos and bimbos.”
Anyway so the prompt is about a bunch of little ghost kids that died in different ways helping the others figure it out. So what about teenager-young adult ghosts from different time periods all have some connection to this area a 2020 time period person is living in.
Together they work past the trauma of their lives and the strange new world. Maybe they have to figure out their deaths idk yet.
But I’m thinking around four ghosts and the one living person.
Maybe someone from the Victorian era. Like super uptight, naturally awful in terms of sexism and racism and shit. Is probably a victor Frankenstein Stan and refuses to believe a women wrote the book. He grows into a less awful person through out the story. Was super into romanticism, maybe a poet or an artist or he’s a film buff bc film was like just invented.
Or like a cowboy man, super chill. Likes his clothes a lot, he’s very attached to them. Maybe he like always helps the 2020 person w fashion but he’s always like “I darn do reckon a trusty ole hat always do pull an outfit together”. He’s probably believes like all stereotypes, doesn’t think gay people are real, “I mean when you are out in the west w no women you find companion-ship.” Maybe lived through polio. Had a co-dependent attachment style to his horse.
A man from the 30s to 40s. Probably died in the war. Had a family he adored, maybe was Italian and faced discrimination. Maybe was engaged to a girl he loved, some spitfire as he would probably call her. Would be a v romanticized version of old relationships, like she wasn’t an accessory she was an actual person to him y’a know. Actually spoke out against Japanese internment camps or alternatively he learns about them in 2020 and denies it until being rlly sad and losing faith in the us and questioning why he ever fought in a war, then coming around and fining pride and purpose.
Girl from the fifties. Is super misogynistic at first believes a women should be at home cooking, cleaning, and caring after children but becomes like a feminist warrior. Who still loves caring for children, cooking, and cleaning for her husband but now realizes women can be more and should be treated as such. Terrified of communists, maybe her family was falsely accused of being commies and they lost everything idk.
Either a himbo or a bimbo from the 70s. Like some true stoner idiot. Loves music. Protested against the Vietnam war and for civil rights. Had an intelligent best friend who kept them safe, was probably very homoerotic and literally cannot function w out them half the time despite being a ghost. Was maybe serial killered bc it was the 70s. Or maybe drafted idk.
I’m thinking either like a greasy Billy loomis vibes guy from the 90s. Or like a girl boss from y2k. Idk yet, they might be too current to be like rlly fun y’a know.
Also either ghosts no one else sees or they have been reanimated so they have to live in real life and when people are like your roommates are weird, the 2020 person is like “I’m aware.” Things like cowboy getting into fist fights in a bar for some stupid reason and Victorian having to begrudgingly save them. Dotty (from the 50s) and 70s having an impromptu rally for the rights of people with uteruses. All of them comforting the guy from the 30/40s when he struggles with ptsd, or them all having to deal w him stockpiling all their food for when the economy crashes again. Maybe not even a person form the 2020a maybe they all just have to deal but I kinda like the 2020s person so idk. The person from the 70s gay panicking over an attractive person then having a full meltdown bc they feel so guilty for betraying their best friend, maybe going on a quest to find their grave sight and be reunited almost risking all their friends and having to choose them instead. 70s listening to dad music on a turntable way too loud way too late at night and smoking both cigarettes and weed way too much. 30s, 50s, and 70s all sharing cigarettes and having big movies nights were Victorian era is like rants on about beautiful films and it’s like Paul blart or something.
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Reviewing Every Animal Crossing New Horizons Villager (Because I Have Fallen Down The Rabbit Hole) Part 2
Bea: This is what Baabara wants to be. Good pupper, very plain, but more in a classic kind of way! 50 Bells.
Beardo: Looks like a lil gentleman, also looks like he would bore me on a date. Sorry, Beardo, I am not swiping right. 500 Bells.
Beau: Kind of cute, but also pretty boring. 50 Bells.
Becky: I am kind of enchanted, but at the same time I'm starting to think that I do not like the chicken villagers all that much. 100 Bells.
Bella: OH MY GOD- NO. THAT IS NOT HOW YOU SHOULD DESIGN MICE. HOW DARE YOU. -500 BELLS. YOU COME ON TO MY ISLAND AND IT IS ON SIGHT.
Benedict: This man should be made into his namesake. 0 Bells.
Benjamin: I imagine that this is what the uncanny valley must look like for dogs. I do not like this guy. -10 Bells.
Bertha: So meh that I really can't think of anything else to say? Just. Meh. 10 Bells.
Bettina: I WON'T HESITATE, BITCH. 0 Bells.
Bianca: :0 Now this is one lovely tiger! Excellent form! Please come to my island! I might be bias due to Tigatron from Beast Wars to be fair. 2000 Bells.
Biff: WAIT, BUT WHY IS HE BETTER?! WHY IS HE BETTER THAN BERTHA!? I KIND OF WANT HIM, HE LOOKS LIKE HE WOULD TALK WAY TOO LONG ABOUT HIS GAINS, BUT I WOULD GLADLY LISTEN. 2000 BELLS.
Big Top: Dumbo looking ass. 0 Bells.
Bill: Just give me a better duck. 0 Bells.
Billy: This is just a goat. You just ported a normal goat into my game. The heck? 150 Bells.
Biskit: Now this is a banger. I kind of love this dog so much, the lil eyes are so charming. I WILL get this dude. 2000 Bells.
Bitty: TERRIBLE. ANOTHER FLIP AFTER BIFF. 0 BELLS.
Blaire: Boring, should have been a skunk, that might have been able to save this design. 15 Bells. Maybe 16 if I pretend it is a skunk.
Blanche: Okay, so they are super eligant looking, but not in a way that makes me want them on my island, but I would not mind seeing them in passing. They are lovely. 500 Bells.
Bluebear: Ah. Right on the tin, huh? 0 Bells.
Bob: The smug lil smile gets me, I love a good cat villager, especially with funky colors. 1000 Bells.
Bonbon: Sure. But I am callin' you a basic bitch that drinks starbucks frappes if you have Bonbon on your island, just sayin'. 200 Bells.
Bones: Another very basic dog design, which isn't a bad thing, but I do like a little more chaos in my villagers! 200 Bells.
Boomer: Did they steal this guy from Club Penguin? Was he a rescue? 17 Bells.
Boone: If I see this guy on your island then I am blocking you. If I ever see him on a random encounter island then I am leaving immediately. He can keep it, that is his island now. -500 Bells.
Boots: A very basic gator, this is about what I would expect the gator to look like. He isn't bad, but I don't really want him. 10 Bells.
Boris: His little tusks ass so much charm to this design and the colors work so well. Very good pig design! 1052 Bells!
Boyd: NOT EVEN OVER MY DEAD BODY. I would come back from the dead just to kick this guy's ass, I would say the town isn't big enough for both of us, but quite frankly I am scared that this guy was ever an option. Perhaps I should be more grateful for Nibbles. -500 Bells.
Bree: Seriously, why are there no cute mice villagers? 0 Bells.
Broccolo: I have to assume that they hate mice. 0 Bells.
Brofinna: This is just one of the other chicken villagers, but with lipstick. Booooo. 0 Bells.
#lost lists by clowncalvary#Animal Crossing#Why do I keep doing this to myself? I keep getting into these long lists T.T
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huh, turns out that i have no classes today, so i'm giddily catching up on the last two kinktober fics you've posted.
how are you miss missha? i hope life has been treating you well. also, "angrily played you're on your own kid?" that statement made me laugh then the song itself made me sad. it's maybe too early to cry
anyways, SPOILERS under the rose line for "how i suffered before i knew you, how i suffered after"
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
imagining max in the middle of the club is always so 50/50. he's either so drunk it's funny, or he's got that stoic and maybe uncomfortable look on his face because too many people (when he's just a kid wanting to drive)
you know what, the paragraphs from "When he came, he thought...." to "...Lewis might regret ending it all too." <- just take my heart out, it would heart less. that's so heartbreaking and it's too early to deal with these types of feels. catch me crying as the birds sing of love songs
and especially this -> "He needs to experience what he wants so badly ..... he is the one that can’t move on, that can’t let go." -> the holding on to past memories, then wanting to experience the manifestations of those memories because the affection of it all, but with a different person because the other person is not there anymore, and the want to replace memories to erase the hurt
then in the next paragraph, it ends with "he had truly thought that Lewis might regret ending it all too." <- regret it lew
the awkwardness and silence in the elevator is actually empasized by the jazzy elevator music
“It’s been a long time since we shared a hotel,” "There is no reason for us to,” “There could be,” “I think we already have had this conversation,” "He already went through this twice too many, why add a third time now?" <- i came here to have a good time but i'm beaten down by the angst and the feels (this why i actually love your kinktober, it's got sexy times, for movie/book plots, aus that are so mindblowing, and feels, lots of feels)
“I didn’t want to reject you,” to “It seems like the only one who made you make the choice was you.” <- 😭 there's just so much to unpack, there's a whole fic underneath this fic
"Why does he need to entertain the thought that instead of replacing the old memories of Lewis with someone else, he could just replace those old memories with new ones made with Lewis?" <- hehe
"He might regret it tomorrow, but he will have something good to cling to for now." <- third time's the charm, you know. maybe you won't regret it this time? fic!lew, i'll hurt you if you hurt maxy again
💖😢😫
i dont even know. i'm just aching all over im sad. i hope they get their shit together
roses for youu
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
-Rose 🥺🌹
ah no classes? good! i hope you rested and had a good day! and that's school going well!
Life has been good, really busy, because i really do not have enough free time next to my job, but we make it work! and yes, it's a sad song, but over the years I've managed to create the habit of angrily playing sad songs.
max is me, i am max. we are either out of our mind, having the best time drunk/sober, or fucking miserable. no in between
look i wanted to make it sexy but instead it became really, really heartbreaking
also yes there is a fic underneath this fic because i was too tired / my brain wasn't working with me to write both so instead i implied a LOT kshdgks
third time's the charm for proper heartbreak, you mean <33
Hope you didn't stay sad for too long!!
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abrupt confessions (xiao & diluc)
prompt: “you’re oblivious to their advances and they’re getting frustrated”
pairings: diluc/gn!reader, xiao/gn!reader
word count: 1.4k
warnings: fluff, emotional constipation (it’s xiao and diluc)
a/n: sorry that xiao’s hcs are a bit shorter than diluc’s, i’m still getting comfy writing him. this is a part of my 50 follower celebration! please let this one show up in tags this time tumblr
DILUC
diluc never really considered himself an expert in romance. in fact, if you ask him upfront, he’d tell you that he barely knows anything about courting and how to charm someone.
but jeez, he didn’t think it’d be this hard.
as you sit at the counter of diluc’s bar after hours, excitedly trying new types of drinks that he’s concocted, diluc wonders how he’d entered the friendzone this badly.
he literally just handed you a non-alcoholic, bright pink, raspberry flavored drink he called love potion and you had taken it with a smile and complemented diluc on what a great friend he was.
diluc doesn’t feel entitled to your affections. he understands if you didn’t like him back and would respect whatever decision you made! but he at least hopes you’ll acknowledge the fact that he likes you so you can talk about it and get the conversation over with.
despite his bravery on the battlefield, he’s a bit nervous about telling you that he likes you straight to your face. however, this feels like the hundredth thing diluc has tried to subtly flirt with you.
he’s just glad kaeya isn’t here to laugh at his failed attempts. even kaeya picked up on diluc’s crush on you before you did.
all of the subtle tricks that diluc had read about in gossip magazines (yes, he had resorted to those) in order to get you to notice him were just coming across as friendly actions.
as the two of you struck up a small conversation about your last commission, diluc wanted nothing more than to ram his head through the counter of the bar.
“just ask them out,” kaeya had told him. “they’re not going to pick up on subtle hints.”
as much as diluc didn’t want to admit it, maybe, just maybe, his brother was right about something.
the days passed by and no matter what diluc did, you interpreted all of his advances as friendly. a bouquet of cecelias? what a nice housewarming gift! a nice bottle of dandelion wine? what a generous gift!
“(y/n), we need to talk,” diluc finally states, after his umpteenth gift in his attempt at courting you went without proper acknowledgement.
you look at him in concern, worried about his tense tone of voice. “did i do something wrong?” you ask, nervousness seeping into your words.
diluc’s eyes widened slightly. “no, no, it’s not that,” he assures you, quietly noting your sigh of relief. “actually, i think i might have done something wrong instead.”
“huh?” you respond. “i apologize if i gave off the impression that i am mad at you, i can assure you that i’m not.”
“no, no, it’s…” diluc sighs, trailing off. how should i put this? he asks himself. you’re clearly not lured by lavish gifts or swayed by acts of service, so he really has only one option left: telling you in a straightforward manner. it’s best to be forthright, he reassures himself.
“i like you.” diluc confesses, causing a radiant smile to spread across your face. this is it! diluc thinks to himself. they’re happy with my confession and they like me ba-
his thoughts are interrupted by your response. “aw, i like you too! you’re one of my best friends!” you chirp, your smile still persisting. you were happy with diluc finally being able to adequately express his emotions! you knew he struggled with that sort of thing and platonic affection was always difficult for him to express.
“no, (y/n), i like you in a romantic manner,” he states, his voice slightly dull. it wasn’t the most romantic of confessions, but diluc was exasperated. there was only so much he could do.
“oh, uh, yeah,” you scratch the back of your head as you feel your face heat up. this was awkward. what he just said certainly sounded like a confession but... “i... knew that? haven’t we been dating for the last few months?”
any emotion diluc had on his face is quickly replaced with an expressionless mask and dull eyes, but you knew diluc well enough to know that this expression meant that he was experiencing several forms of sheer panic.
you laugh nervously and lean in, placing a small kiss on his cheek. “i just thought you were being super chaste in courting me,” you confess, but diluc still looks dazed.
“if…” he begins, causing you to pull back ever-so-slightly. “if we’ve been dating for a few months, then can i..?”
diluc’s words trail off, but his subtle glance down to your lips lets you know exactly what he means. you smile softly and give a nod of permission as a scarlet blush spreads across his pale skin.
he leans in, his hands cupping your face gently, as if you were made of the finest porcelain, and kisses you, clarifying the confusion the two of you had accidentally held with each other for months.
XIAO
xiao, over his long lifetime, has learned many things. he’s quite certain that almond tofu is the tastiest food in all of liyue, wangshu inn is the place that irritates him the least, and the polearm is the best weapon for fighting.
however, one thing he has not learned is how to court someone -- especially when that certain someone is a fragile mortal.
he’s not quite sure how to court you, so he starts doing things for you that he would like others to do for him.
when you visit him, he offers you a piece of almond tofu. he offers to kill any foes that stand in your path. he offers to sit with you at night and watch the scenery together.
this type of courting lasts for approximately 48 hours. xiao is a forthright man, never having desired to beat around the bush. he’s not impatient, but he knows he only has a limited portion of his life to spend with you.
so, as you plan to exit his room in wangshu inn after spending time reading on his balcony while he brooded silently in the chair next to you, xiao realizes it’s now or never.
as you stop to open the door, xiao calls your name, causing you to turn around and look at him inquisitively.
before you can ask him what’s wrong, the adeptus puts his hand by your head, effectively pinning you between him and the door with one arm, leaving room for you to wriggle away if you felt uncomfortable.
“i wish to court you,” he states in a low tone. his amber eyes pierce into yours with an intensity you’ve never seen in his gaze before, but a soft vulnerability swims within their depths, disappearing as quickly as you notice it, like a skittish fish seeing a shadow.
“oh,” you breathe, overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation. the air between you and xiao is now thick enough to cut a knife through.
seemingly coming back to his senses, xiao drops his hand abruptly and takes a step back. if he wishes to apologize, he shows no indication of doing so. instead, his unfaltering, analytical gaze tries to interpret the emotion within yours.
“alright,” you respond, after a few more seconds of silence. “i’ll gladly let you court me.”
a soft exhale escapes xiao’s lips upon your confirmation and a soft, bashful smirk crosses his face, before he surges forward and pulls you close in a hug, hands splaying across your back.
you let out a small noise of surprise, but smile as xiao buries his face into the crook of your neck, conveying the emotions he had trouble expressing. you wrap one arm around xiao’s torso, returning his hug, and the other hand sneaks into his hair, playing with the fluffy green locks.
“thank you,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.
“hm?” you respond, not having heard him properly, but rather than repeating himself, he only tightens his grip, as if he was afraid you would fall through his fingers. you begin to worry until you feel him smile, causing a soft smile to spread across your face as well.
#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact headcanons#xiao x reader#diluc x reader#genshin impact scenarios#diluc headcanons#diluc scenarios#xiao headcanons#xiao scenarios#*xiao#*diluc#*writing#*headcanons
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One wrong move ( salesman x fem! reader ) part one
Summary: you wanted to take control in the bedroom this time, and the salesman agrees. With that power, will you go too far?
Warning: degrading, humiliation, choking, name-calling, slapping, BDSM dynamics?, a very angry salesman lol, housewife kink(this Kink can come off as misogynistic because it's more so 50s inspired), smut in general, porn with little plot, vaginal sex, blow job, rough sex, dub-con disclaimer just got in case. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, AND IF ANY OF THE WARNINGS TRIGGERS YOU, PLEASE DO NOT READ FURTHER.
Ps: I'm shit at writing fanfic lol(on top of that, I'm doing this all on my phone, there might be some spelling errors or grammatical errors) keep that in mind moving forward, I'm just down bad for this man, alright😤. hope you guys like it, enjoy!
Edit: I decided to make this part one out of two, maybe? so no smut in this, who knows when ill update this. I might delete this, due to my embarrassment Idk....why I did this. this is so trash lol, I'm definitely cringing right now as I type to you all. I apologize to anyone who reads this, the squid game writer and most importantly I apologize to Gong Yoo, even though it's the character I'm writing about, and not about him at all, I would feel weird writing about celebrities... they are real people, his characters are fair game in my opinion because they are fictional but still...that's just how I feel. I have to cover my bases... so yeah lol.
The front door open as you were finishing the final touches on the chocolate cake you made, but too much in the zone with the music volume kinda high as you sway your hips to the music until you felt a pair of hands which caused you to stop, and have your heart racing then you realize It was your "husband's" hands around your waist. Thank God because you were about to scream out, feeling relieved when you realize it was him. he's taking in your scent of a pretty fragrance that smells of vanilla while hugging you from behind. "Hello, beautiful wife, daddy's home." He said in a low deep voice in your ear. giving you the chills up and down your spine. You have been with him for a while now, and he still manages to make you feel like a shy schoolgirl."Hello, sir" turning around looking up at him with doll eyes, accompanied with sharp cat eyeliner and a classic red lip, he smiles at you, pleased with what he sees. In return, you are admiring how handsome he is. God, you just wanted him to bend you over right then and there. just to use you for his own satisfaction like you were his personal fleshlight. Finally snapping out your own thoughts when he removes his hands to make his way to the dinner table.
"How was your day, dear?" you were fixing his plate while he's reading the news on his phone. "My day was fine, just a little bit tired" answering you while still scrolling through his phone and yawning. after a little while, he put his phone down as you set the plate in front of him, and set your plate down to join him. He gives you a charming smile while he starts forking his food, and taking one good bite out of it as you watch his reaction while you eat as well. He must be really hungry you thought. "Mmmmm this is pretty fucking good I have to say, darling, I'm quite impressed." He pauses to finish chewing as he wipes his mouth with a napkin, he just does everything so sexy, it makes you melt for him, then make you snap back to reality once more. " I think you learned your lesson last time you messed up, huh?...darling" a smirk slowly creeps on his handsome face as he stares into your soul. You paid for it indeed, let's just say you made good use of the ice pack in the freezer after how hard he spanked you for burning his steak. a couple of days of having trouble sitting. he loves seeing you in pain, he's a sadistic asshole, and that turned you on for some reason.
You are recalling the event from that night, it is getting you visibly flustered, looking away as you squeeze your thighs to control yourself. He's still looking at with a smirk, but with his head tilted slightly " gosh, what a fucking whore, look at you..getting all hot and bothered, it's not very ladylike of you." He said in a mocking tone with a deep chuckle. you look down at your plate to continue eating. "Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you" with a slightly stern voice, and you look up at him. "I'm sorry!" In an embarrassing outburst losing confidence in your voice. "I'm sorry what?" With his eyebrow raised, going back to that arrogant smirk. "I'm sorry, sir " with a slight bow, and he's pleased with your obedience. "mmm, good girl" he hummed, pretty sure you're soaking wet for him right now, Jesus that voice of his can just make you cum alone. there is a moment of silence as the two of you eat but fill in the silence by talking in-between. rambling about family, finding a nice vacation home to purchase, and just his work in general." thanks for the dinner, sweetheart" as he gets up to make it into the living room.
you clean up the kitchen as he turns on the tv to find something to watch, you see him from the kitchen, looking at how tall he is while he's sitting on a black leather couch with a whiskey in his hand, looking comfortable with his tie undone and his clean white shirt disheveled. basically sitting like a very relaxed king. Scrolling through channels, he suddenly makes eye contact with you, and you start to blush as he takes a swig of his whiskey while smiling back at you, giving you a flirtatious wink. The sexual tension never really goes away no matter how much the two of you have sex. Although you have this strong bond with him. you couldn't help but think about what you saw a few weeks ago and this thought has haunted you for a while now. at dinner you wanted to clear the air, tell him what's really been bothering you, it hasn't been all so easy to do so for some reason. just not really sure how exactly to go about it. You find out that he was talking to another woman when you had an idea to look up new recipes so you simply borrowed his laptop, You were cheerful mood when all of a sudden you saw a chat bubble pop up on the lower right corner of the screen, saying "hey, handsome ❤️". trying to ignore it, but the curiosity got the best of you, and ended up looking at his messages anyways. your heart dropped, you were shocked at what you saw. Flirty and very sexual texts back and forth, even some nudes here and there. one message read as " I miss you so much, darling. I have romantic plans for you soon" he sent, "aww, I can't wait to see what you do for me, baby, but what about your wife? teehee" She sent back. "I'll just let her know, I'm going on a business trip, so no need to worry about that, just be ready for my soft kisses all over your body, I love you, see you soon❤️ ." That was two weeks ago. You were mixed with hurt and anger, tears rolling down your eyes as you read every last one of them. Sure you guys are technically not together per se, but it didn't mean it hurts less. you thought maybe he would change with having you around. That he loved you, ''you were a fool'' you thought to yourself. This is just an arrangement to pay off your debt, nothing more. Just keep a brave face, trying to calm yourself down, not to let it show that it bothers you.
After you're done cleaning up, you make your way to your husband and sit right next to him, still in thought. "Strip for me, darling," he said in a demanding voice, knocking you out of your trance. You look at him with innocent eyes. "Don't make me repeat myself, slut. I'm gonna use you like a fuck doll for my pleasure, you don't deserve love-making tonight, hell you never really deserve it" with a very harsh tone, chuckling. his eyes were hungry, dark with lust as he looks at you as if you were a helpless bunny and he was the big bad wolf, it only made you feel warm in your core. sure that statement stings a bit, but you didn't care right now, you wanted him just as much he wants you. You do as he say and stand in front of him, taking off your knee-length red dress slowly until you are on display, showing off your black revealing lingerie with high heels still on, might as well be naked at this point. All of the sudden, you had a brilliant idea. You wanted to get revenge on him somehow for what he did, you really wanted him to pay. "Hey, uh sir? " With absolutely no confidence whatsoever, it was quite pathetic actually. He looks at you like he is disgusted with you or something "what is it, pet?" As he swigs some more whiskey. "Can we try something different?" confused, but is willing to let you speak " go ahead" leans on the couch more now, getting annoyed that you are even talking right now. "I was wondering what it would be like if I was in charge for once, can we please try it out?.. um, sir" he laughs at you, making you feel embarrassed at your proposal.
"Sure, why not" he give you the familiar arrogant smirk when you met him at the train station that night, As if you were playing a game too. You couldn't help, but smile so big. First, you grab yourself a glass cup from out of the cabinet while the salesman is staring at your ass moving around, smirking, and liking what he sees. pour yourself some whiskey to help you get this liquid courage. Gulping it all down, you hiss as it burns your throat. You're not much of a drinker, but you need this right now. he watches you with a smirk on his face"Wow, so pathetic" said with a chuckle. you stand over him with arms folded giving him a mean look ."Silence, sir you need to not speak unless spoken to, got it? " shocked at your own words from the inside, but remain strong on the outside. the alcohol is kicking in for sure as it's your second glass now. He lift his arm in protest as if he was getting arrested " yes ma'am" he said in a deep voice with a confident smile still on his face that you wanted to smack off, but at the same time it made you shiver and want to give in to him like a dog in heat. Calm down, you're in charge right now, don't let him get to you, that's exactly what he wants.
"Now why don't you follow me to the bedroom, so I can tie you to the bedpost, Pig," you say to him with demanding confidence in your voice. grabbing his chin to have him look up at you from where he is sitting. Salesman trying not to lose his cool at the pet name and how you are speaking to him.he's trying to be a good sport about it, going along with it and nods "use your words, pig" you said in an angry tone. " Yes,.ma'am," he said with a smile that is unmoving, deep down there is the rage that is building up inside him. doing his best to submit, but he's pretty fucking angry right now. " Look into my eyes, not my tits next time, Jesus, you're so filthy" you let out a giggle as turning around expecting him to follow you. You sway your hip seductively more than usual, teasing the angry man behind you. Clenching his jaw, he gets up fast and follows suit. you are probably going to regret this soon enough.
#squid game smut#the salesman#the salesman x reader#salesman x reader#salesman x y/n#gong yoo#salesman imagine
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Hello, can I please have some sambucky fic recommendations??
okay this is gonna be long (these are all my personal favourites, if you were to ask me to choose one of them i would rather die hehehheh)
feel free to add more everybody!!
a great cuddler (and maybe more) by finnicklover69 on ao3 (word count: 2470)
Summary: Bucky doesn't convey his feelings very well. Eventually, he gets the hang of it.
still feel the pull of you by napricot on ao3 (word count: 44382) (p.s. this was written before tfatws came out, but it’s so unique and amazingly written. definetely worth reading)
Summary: "The frantic pulse of fear doesn’t ease until Sam catches sight of Barnes for the first time since the end of the battle: he’s dirty and disheveled, and still, somehow, impossibly, the best thing Sam’s ever seen. The gallop of Sam’s heart slows, and the tightness in his lungs eases so suddenly that it’s like he’s gone buoyant, ready to float away without the help of any wings. Barnes turns as if he can sense Sam looking at him, and when he meets Sam’s eyes, he smiles, and it’s the brightest damn thing on this battlefield, a shock of sweetness in the midst of so much dark bitterness and confusion. Sam smiles back, giddy with joy and relief.
He thinks, thank God Bucky’s okay.
Then he thinks, wait, what the fuck?"
After realizing there are some unexpected side effects for those who've been brought back to life after the Snap, Sam and Bucky slowly but surely learn that if they want to be loved, they must submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known [via soul bond].
When We’re Old and Gay by 42hrb on ao3 (word count: 3724)
Summary: “The paparazzi will get pictures from our wedding and call it a friendship ceremony.” Sam was frowning at his phone. “We’ll have a one bedroom apartment in the Avengers retirement community in 50 years and they’ll talk about how we’re such good buddies.”
weary traveler by mistilteinn on ao3 (word count: 15000)
Summary: come close, weary traveler,
rest your head on shoulder mine.
though your feet drag in the night,
you have crossed a hundred lands
and burned under the sun’s light.
“Coulda’ used the shield,” he can’t help but say, still half breathless. Sam rolls his eyes, tinted red by his flight goggles, and shoves him away. It’s enough to knock his equilibrium off, and for a moment, Bucky’s dazed. He looks up at the clear blue sky in wonderment.
Maybe Steve’s watching them from up there, he thinks. If he is, he’s definitely laughing his ass off right now.
What I've Been Living For by OhHelloFandoms123 on ao3 (word count: 2828)
Summary: He grabs his keys and starts heading out. He’s going to see Bucky again. He was nervous, excited…He’s never felt happier. “Sam,” Sarah teased, “looks like your boyfriend arrived.”
“Thanks, but he’s not my boyfriend.” he chuckled.
“The kids started calling him ‘Uncle Bucky’, might as well be your husband.”
OR
Post-TFATWS Finale where soft feelings and emotions happen.
Louisiana Sun by Siancore on ao3 (word count: 1499)
Summary: “Thanks for today,” Sarah said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Haven’t seen my big brother smile like that in a while.”
“He’s always happiest when he’s helpin’ people,” said Bucky with a fond smile that caused his eyes to crinkle in the corners.
“That is true, but that’s not what I mean,” said Sarah, offering Bucky a small, knowing grin. “I meant that he was smiling like that because of you.”
a thread of guessing (with goodness at the end) by milucient (hopefulChange) on ao3 (word count: 1963)
Summary: Sam comes to think that his feelings are more than he lets on. Bucky sees it too.
Static in the Dark by wickedwitchcraft on ao3 (word count: 4989)
Summary: Prompt from abc-easy-as-123 on tumblr: So prompt idea, some bad guy follows Bucky to the docks for revenge (over whatever you can decide) and Sarah gets to see how protective Bucky really is over Sam when he gets in the line of fire
where you belong by faerialchemist on ao3 (word count: 7204)
Summary: “Wait, what do you mean ‘that’s good enough’?” Bucky managed to ask, matching Sam’s stride before he could be left in the dust on the docks.
Sarah gave him a small grin that Bucky couldn’t help but return. “C’est mignon, Sam—”“No, no, we are not going there,” Sam interrupted, shaking his head at his sister before returning his attention to Bucky. “And I just meant that it’s good you don’t know French.” A smirk slipped onto his lips. “We can talk shit about you in front of your face and you won’t have a clue.”
(The Wilson family speaks Louisiana French. Bucky doesn't. He finds a home with them all the same.)
something gave you the nerve (to touch my hand) by lovecamedown on ao3 (word count: 10738)
Summary: a reimagining of the hand holding in 1.05: what if they kissed in that moment?
and the aftermath, navigating this new territory.
/
“She thinks it’s weird I don’t call you my boyfriend,”
“Huh,” Bucky remarks indiscernibly. “Do you think it’s weird?”
Sambucky Stories by Trode19 on ao3 [an updating series]
Summary: A collection of Sambucky stories I’ve written, all together for easier reading :)
i believe in you (so get over yourself) by bothsexuals on ao3 [an updating series] (p.s. OH GOD DO I LOVE THIS ONE pls this series is so so good)
Summary: A series of me being really good at writing sambucky despite watching like, ten minutes worth of content.
#sambucky#tfatws#fic rec#sambucky fanfiction#sambucky fic#sambucky fic rec#buckysam#winterfalcon#sam wilson#bucky barnes#sam x bucky#fatws
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GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.2
While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.
The BEAUTIFUL art pieces were done by @clownwry and @elishevart ! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 😭❤️💋
ch.1 - ch.3
~~~~~~~~~~
Ford was way more nervous than he was letting on.
She had long, pretty brown hair, braces over her teeth, sneakers, a skirt, and a sweater that allowed the cold air to pass through it. Her cheeks were slightly chubby with youth and nosy, as well as her nose, due to the freezing weather. Her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and though they were clouded with fear and confusion, Ford swore he could see sparkling behind the clouds, sparkling that made itself well-known when she asked if she could make him a sweater or when she saw his hands.
She had long, pretty brown hair, braces over her teeth, sneakers, a skirt, and a sweater that allowed the cold air to pass through it. Her cheeks were slightly chubby with youth and nosy, as well as her nose, due to the freezing weather. Her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and though they were clouded with fear and confusion, Ford swore he could see sparkling behind the clouds, sparkling that made itself well-known when she asked if she could make him a sweater or when she saw his hands.
Ford would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy Mabel’s company, but she was practically a stranger, and keeping a random girl in his house that was located in the middle of the woods was fishy and Ford couldn’t help but feel like it was illegal. But he couldn’t leave her out in the snow and send her on her way to find her home and family, so he decided to keep her warm or healthy, simply because it was the right thing to do.
But then she said she had no parents to call. Only a brother, who was lost, too. Ford can remember the old rule: If you’re lost, stay where you are until you are found. So he then decided that she could stay here until her brother found her, which should be by morning at the latest.
Still, he felt uneasy, so once Mabel was settled in front of the TV, Ford excused himself and went into the kitchen to make a phone call. There was only one man who would have better judgement in this situation than him.
The phone rang a few times. Ford checked his watch to make sure it was a reasonable time to call. It wasn’t Sunday, was it? But then the ringing stopped. “Howdy! This here Fiddleford McGucket.”
“Hey there, buddy.” Ford smiled to himself at hearing that cheerful voice. “How have you been?”
“Stanford Pines! Good t’hear from ya!” Fiddleford cheered. “M’just fine, just fine! How are ya?! Ya haven’t gotten eaten by monsters yet, have ya?” He laughed, making his old friend chuckle along.
“No no, I’m alright.” Ford almost brought up the reason he called, but then he remembered something very important to Fiddleford. “How are Emma-May and Tater?”
“OH! They’re doin’ great! We’re all very happy n’ doin’ well! Ya won’t believe how big Tate’s gotten since ya last saw him! He’s already crawlin’!”
“Wow, that's great to hear.” Ford sat in a chair at the kitchen table. “Has he said his first words yet?”
“No, not quite. Actually, he’s extremely quiet. Not a lot of baby-babble.” Fiddleford chuckled. “The doctor says that’s perfectly normal. Tate’s so smart, he’s reachin’ for specific colors n’ such, n’ ya can tell he’s thinkin’ a lot n’ knows what’s goin’ on, he just got nothin’ t’say.”
“I was very shy when I was young.” Ford commented casually. He didn't feel like mentioning why. “If Tate is anything like either of his parents he’s very intelligent.”
“Oh, he’s so much like both of us it’s scary. Ya know Emma-May, so clever n’ quiet n’ such. Tate’s got all that. But he already looks so much like me! But he’s got his mama’s hair! N’ Santy Claus brought ‘im this fun little fishin’ game where ya fish for plastic fish with a pole with a magnet on it, n’ he loves it! I can’t wait to take ‘im fishin’ when he’s big enough! Ya really outta give yourself a break n’ come down for a visit, he’d move to see his Uncle Ford again.”
Ford’s face felt hot. “Perhaps. Spring is when a lot of anomalies are active and breeding, so i would prefer not to miss that, but maybe I could visit for a weekend before that…”
“Well, no pressure, I won’t assume anythang until ya tell me to, just know there’s always a bed for ya here.”
“Thank you, Fiddleford. The same for you and your family. The clean air will do everyone some good.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” Fiddleford sighed happily and perked up. “So! Whatcha callin’ for? Not that I’m not happy just t’chat, but ya never call.”
Ford laughed and shrugged to himself. “I suppose I don’t. I’m sorry.”
“No need t’be sorry, Stanford, just wanna know what’s up.”
“Well, I was hoping to get your advice on something.”
“Shoot.”
“Um… well…” Ford rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to tell him this. “I heard some unusual sounds outside today…”
“What kind of unusual sounds?”
“Cracks, like lightning. And some faint yelling.” Ford answered. “I thought it might be a tree branch or a new anomaly to catalogue, but when I opened the door a young girl was standing there in the snow with no coat.”
“Heavens! Is she alright?!”
“She’s okay, no frostbite. She was cold, but after sitting by the fire, drinking some hot chocolate, and changing into some dry clothes, she’s okay now.”
“Well, good.”
“So of course I brought her in. I tried to call her parents, she probably got lost playing…”
“Sure.”
“... but she says she doesn’t have any parents.”
“Oh.” Fiddleford sighed. “Oh. Now, wait, are ya sure she didn’t just say that so ya wouldn’t call?”
Ford chuckled and said, “I first thought that too, but she looked too sad to be lying.”
“Okay, I see. Does she got somebody ya can call?”
“She says she has a brother, but he was out there, too. So he is probably out there looking for her and therefore nowhere near a phone.”
“Fair enough, okay. So, I reckon y’all are waitin’ for him t’come ‘round.”
“Yup.”
“Well sounds to me like you’ve handled this all pretty well.” Fiddleford said confidently.
“You think so?” Ford asked. “I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m missing something. Am I doing something wrong?”
“Nonsense, buddy, you’re doin’ great.” Fiddleford assured. “Look here, ya can’t just leave a young gurl out in the snow t’try t’find her way home...”
“I agree.”
“... so ya really got one option n’ that’s t’keep an eye on her n’ let her in as a guest. N’ ya tried t’call, but nothin’. The best thang ya can do right now is be there for this lil’lady n’ just be kind t’her. N’ if nobody comes for her by mornin’, why don’t ya go into town n’ see if anybody knows her, then they can help y’all out.”
Ford nodded, then remembered that his best friend couldn’t see it, so he said, “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. Thank you, Fiddleford.”
“You’re welcome. N’ hey, are ya okay?” He asked seriously.
“Yes, yes I’m okay. I just want to make sure I do this right.”
“O’course. I understand. Ya want me t’come down there n’ give a hand?”
“No, that’s not necessary. I’m sure Mabel will find her brother in the morning.”
“Mabel, huh? Well, if y’all don’t, please call me. N’ even if ya do find her brother, call me. Keep me updated.”
“I will. Thank you, Fiddleford.”
“Anytime, Stanford.”
~~~~~~~~~~
When Mr. Ford gave Mabel the remote for the old TV and went into the kitchen, she decided to use her awesome detective skills to figure out what year it was. If it was before Grunkle Stan lived here and opened the Mystery Shack, she must be pretty far back in time. But she had no way of knowing if it was 1999 or 2005 or the 50s.
The TV was old, but so was Grunkle Stan’s in her time. So Mr. Ford could have had this TV for a long time and didn’t want to replace it.
Okay, so when was the TV made? Mabel didn’t know. Dipper would have known.
Okay, Grunkle Stan mentioned watching TV when he was a kid once or twice. So at least Mabel was when Stan was a kid, okay.
Mabel turned the TV on and it was in color. Okay, so she wasn’t too far back in time. But the TV was playing a commercial for clear skin. The picture was gritty and all the people in it had puffy hair and long socks and oh my god was that woman wearing legwarmers?! Mabel grinned at seeing her favorite fashion on TV, but then her face dropped. When was she?
She tapped her chin and tried to think of how to know the date without being suspicious. She could ask Mr. Ford, but that might be suspicious. Mabel decided to start flicking through channels to try to guess what year she was in based on what was airing. A lot of shows were about cowboys, space, or game shows. Huh. Okay.
All the TV shows were definitely older. Nothing her dad would watch from when he was a kid, so if Mabel had to guess by everyone’s crazy air, the cheesy TV shows, and the music occasionally playing, she was in the 70s.
Huh. Okay. But she needed an exact year. So Mabel turned off the TV, saw an old radio on a desk, and turned it on to listen.
“... cuz it’s cold doesn’t mean you can't boogie, folks! So grab someone you wanna get warm with, turn up the music, and get your bodies warm in the coolest way possible! Here’s Night Fever, by the Bee Gees!”
Mabel grinned at the disco music. Her personal favorite song from these guys was More Than a Woman, but Night Fever would do. For a moment Mabel forgot her mission, jumped off the couch and left the blanket behind, and in the over-sized gray t-shirt Mr. Ford gave her while her clothes were drying, she danced along to the music, singing the chorus since those were the only words she knew.
“When you reach out for me. Yeah, and the feelin' is right,
Then I get night fever, night fever. We know how to do it! Gimme that night fever, night fever. We know how to show it!”
Mabel laughed at herself as she spun around in her socks and tried to do the point-and-hype dance she didn’t know the name to, but everyone did it when a disco song played.
Little did she know that Ford had returned to check on her, and was smiling at her as she shook her hips and waved her hair around and had fun. He leaned against the doorway and planned to let her dance in peace, but when she did a spin and saw him, she grinned and took his hand. “C’mon, Mr. Ford, come dance with me!”
Ford chuckled and shook his head. “No, no! I can’t dance!”
“You got two legs that aren’t broken?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can dance! C’mon!” Mabel encouraged, let him go when they were both in the middle of the room, and she started to dance again. “Don’t make me dance alone!” She even pulled an evil move and gave him puppy eyes. Rude.
Ford smiled slyly at her and hesitantly copied her boogie moves. It was true that Ford never liked to dance, but there was no one around but Mabel, and though he had only known her for an hour or more, he was sure she would never make fun of him.
And he was right.
“Wow! Look at you, Mr. I-Can’t-Dance! Yeah!” Mabel hopped on the couch, standing, and took Ford’s hand. “Here, I’ll spin you!”
Ford laughed and allowed it, doing a single spin, but then scooping her in his arms to dip her and then let her down, making her laugh as they continued to dance.
“Alright alright, you crazy cats, that was Night Fever by the Bee Gees! It's a snowy day here in the heart of Oregon, with snow flurries coming in harder all night, but it should clear up by morning and be a fun day to go out and play! The date is January 26th, 1978 in case you gotta write a check or mail a thank you note to a friend or family member. I’m still writing letters for Christmas! We’ll be right back with some of your favorites after a word or two from our sponsors, so don’t go anywhere!”
Mabel stared at the radio. “Wow, 1978.” She breathed. Her parents were only kids right now, maybe only six or seven-years-old. Wow.
Ford chuckled. “I know, I’m still in the bad habit of writing ‘77.”
Mabel realized her mistake, but was grateful her host misunderstood her. “Me too.”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for dinner. How about some ramen noodles?”
“Yes, please! Can we play a game after we eat?”
“Sure. I don’t have many board games, but I do have a deck of cards.”
“Do you know any card tricks?!”
“A few.” Ford admitted, wiggling his fingers. “There are some advantages to having more fingers than average.”
Mabel grinned up at him and followed him to the kitchen for dinner.
#GF#fanfiction#gravity falls#gravity falls au#timestuck au#ford and mabel bonding#Fiddleford McGucket#dancing#night fever#snow day
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ice creamed brain (101% salt, 50% sugar!) — kuroo tetsurou x gender neutral!reader ❀
"wait what?"
you blink. and blink again. and blink once more. and then you scrunch your eyebrows together, resting your head atop your propped up arm.
"what? w... what? huh? what? excuse me? pardon?"
"you alright there, (y/n)?"
"do you think i am?" "...nah, i guess not, then."
kuroo let out a laugh, an amused grin present on his face, which you would have seen if your head were not covered by your hands with your eyes peeking from behind your fingers.
"it just feels like. all my braincells have left my brain—hey don't you dare snort!"
...yet he still snickers, an eyebrow raised at you. "is there something you don't get?", he muses and you finally turn to him, your fingertips tapping your desk over and over again as you rack your brain to think properly and stop acting like a broken machine.
"honestly at this point i feel like i don't... get anything anymore. ask me what's 1+1—" "whats 1+1?" "—and i might just answer double dutch icecream or something. get it? because double dutch is vanilla plus chocolate? haha?"
a wry grin slides to his face, "well, in a way that is technically correct." "yeah sure maybe, but it isn't what i need and my brain feels like melted ice cream right now." a matching grin to fit his makes its way to your face, albeit much more sarcastic.
"...if you'd like, i can help you out?" "...huh? wait, really?" "of course, why not? i have no reason not to! and besides, it's you."
and you find yourself truly believing him, probably the first thing you've actually cohesively understood in the past hour or so of trying to learn this new lesson (keyword: trying). he winks lightly, and you find your sarcastic smile turning sincere.
"you sure?" "well if you're not going to believe me, i can just prove it to you! scoot over a bit, will you?" "no i mean! i believe you—just, well... thank you. really." "no problem."
his eyes seem to twinkle as he stands up and makes his way to your side, and oh my gosh for the first time in an hour, your brain seems to properly work! but not in the way you were, ahem, really hoping for—though this is pleasantly welcomed as well.
"staring at my lips, are you?" "oh yeah? and what if i am?"
you retort a bit too quick, and a bit too telling of your real feelings that you are desperately trying to hide (but not really). he doesn't do anything to help you in all honesty, merely pressing his lips to your forehead as you murmur "you missed my lips.", feeling rather embarrassed.
he leans back against his seat, a teasing smile on his face that swiftly contorts into a serious look. "ahem! please play attention to the lesson and not to your handsome instructor for the day—"
you try open your mouth to retaliate, but he merely puts up a hand and makes a 'hup!' noise, eyebrows raised as a sign to 'hey, don't talk while i'm talking.'
and so you let him, pouting as you slide back in your seat groaning slightly, "—we will be focusing on the lesson... but if it may help in your concentration,"
'geez, how am i even supposed to concentrate at all with that smirk on his face', you think.
"i'll treat you to kisses after this lesson! a little treat for a job well done—if you do well listening and paying attention to me, that is."
it's unbelievably unfair, and you narrow your eyes at him, watching his eyes flicker ever so lightly to where your lips are. so very incredibly unfair of him...
"...fine. but i expect a lot of kisses later. and hugs! and cuddles!" "yes, yes! all the kisses and hugs, for you."
kuroo definitely knows what he does to you, but as he watches you turn back to your desk and fix the mess you had made quickly, he can't help but smile and think that you definitely don't seem to know what you do to him.
but, it's alright. he'll just show you later, right? with lots of hugs and kisses, and maybe a cheesy romantic movie he'd love to watch with you. <3
(bonus: you ask him why he's smiling all of a sudden before he even starts the lesson, and he just smirks and kisses your cheek as a "motivator". you hear him whisper lightly "i believe in you", and it brings a smile on your face that somehow never leaves all throughout his teaching. you both are so smitten for each other.)
a/n ; my first haikyuu!! work posted !! for kuroo, as a late bday gift hehe <3 i hope i got his character well! 🙇♀️ it's been a while since i watched/read haikyuu 😞💔 another self-indulgent work of mine, bcs sometimes my brain just feels like. soup. noodles. melted ice cream. put all together and mashed by a smoothie into milk. 💀 but yes <33 hav gday everyone ! mwah ! 💗 ——— m.list.
— © astarriscus. please do not plagarize, steal, copy, repost, edit, translate, heavily reference, or profit from any of my works in any way !! . . . taglist ; answer this form or send in an ask to be added!
#✍︎ — starry love letters.#➳ haikyuu!! !#haikyuu!! x reader#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsuro headcanons#kuroo tetsuro fluff#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo tetsurou x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#hq!! x reader#kuroo headcanons#kuroo scenarios#kuroo fluff#kuroo tetsuro drabble#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo tetsurou fluff#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu headcanons#hq kuroo#kuroo x you#kuroo tetsuro x you#kuroo tetsurō#kuroo tetsuro fanfiction
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“Kneel.”
Loki looks at them, these simple mortal beings. So primitive. Like ants, running loose, lost without a queen. But they needn’t fear any longer. Loki is here, and will be their leader now. They will find purpose - glorious purpose - under their rule.
“Kneel!” Loki says again, louder, and finally they fall into line. One after the next, down to their knees, to praise -
“Um. Excuse me. Uh, sorry. This is awkward.” A man steps away from the rest. He’s wearing a dreary brown suit with a tie that needs fixing. Gray hair. Mustache. A typical, everyday Midgardian.
Loki should silence him at once. And yet - they still their hand. There’s something oddly... compelling about this fumbling oaf. Perhaps it’s the way he’s looking at Loki. Not with fear, but with interest. Curiosity. Almost a quiet understanding.
No one ever looks at Loki like that.
The man rubs the back of his neck. “It’s just that. Well. I think I might be your soulmate?”
Someone in the crowd shushes him.
Another asks, “Are you crazy?”
A woman hisses, “Mobius. There’s no way -”
The man - Mobius - glances back at her and shrugs. “So they’re ambitious.”
“They’re going to kill you.”
“Nah.” Mobius turns back to Loki. “Just a little pussycat.”
He starts forward, gently moving through the kneeling crowd, whispering, “Excuse me, pardon me, coming through,” on his way to the front.
Loki tracks his every step, watchful for any sign of trickery, but they can detect no magic on this mortal. The absolute gall of this man, to approach Loki - child of Asgard, god of mischief - as if they are equals.
Loki shouldn’t just silence him, they should scorch him from the whole of the realms.
But then Mobius smiles at Loki, a big, wide thing that twists Loki up inside. Perhaps they will wait to destroy him, if only for a moment, if only to hear him out. Loki considers themself a fair god, after all.
Listening. Then destruction.
“Speak, mortal,” Loki commands. “If that is what you desire. But know your life hangs on your words.”
Mobius looks at Loki, watching for a moment, smile never dimming. “Oh, yeah. You’re definitely the one.”
“I am all things,” Loki says, ever magnanimous.
Mobius points at them. “You’re my soulmate.”
Loki frowns. “I am not.” Then they frown harder. They know lies well, and that felt like a big one.
But that couldn’t be.
“I have no soulmate,” Loki says, ignoring the familiar sting that comes with the words. Words repeated again and again, as all the seers in Asgard looked into their future and saw them standing alone.
Mobius’s smile softens. “Are you sure about that?”
No. Not really. How many years have passed since Loki last had the seers check? Is it possible... perhaps Mobius had been born in that time? He is but a mortal. How old could he be? 40 years? 50? The blink of an eye.
Mobius holds out a hand. “Wouldn’t you like to check?” That suit truly is ridiculous, outdated and well-worn. If they are soulmates, Loki will take him to Asgard at once and buy him -
Loki forces an abrupt stop to their own thoughts. This is deception, meant to shake them from their true purpose.
“Once I discover you are deceiving me, I will purge you from existence.”
“Okay, sure. Whatever you want.” Mobius waves his hand impatiently. “Isn’t worth trying? Then, you know, purge from existence and all that...”
“Mobius,” the same woman whisper-yells from the crowd.
Mobius rolls his eyes. “Work friend. She’s very protective.”
“She has reason to be,” Loki says, looking at that offered hand. At the long, steady fingers, the delicate wrist. Mortals are such fragile things. Beings to be conquered. Not loved.
And yet.
Loki lifts a hand. They rub their thumb and forefinger together. They will attempt a small touch for curiosity’s sake. Then, the promised destruction.
“Aren’t you afraid?” Loki asks.
“No. Excited, maybe. Not everyday you meet your soulmate.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I’m feeling confident.”
Loki swallows hard. Then they reach out. They don’t take Mobius’s hand, not fully. They merely brush the pad of one finger to the edge of his thumb.
It is enough.
Visions flood through their mind. Mobius laughing. Mobius taking Loki’s hand, pressing his lips to their knuckles, one after the next. Mobius leaning in and kissing them on their lips. Mobius pressing Loki against a wall, and Loki letting themself be pressed.
“I love you,” Mobius says under cover of darkness, in the light of day, out in the ocean on the back of some type of motorized water vehicle. “I love you,” again and again, filling the dark depths of Loki’s heart until it overflows, bursting with happiness. With immeasurable love.
Loki snaps back to the present and slowly, so slowly, withdraws their hand.
Mobius’s smile could light the whole city. “I knew it was you.”
Loki opens their mouth to speak, but what comes out is a gasped breath, very near a sob. The love from the vision has vanished, but the phantom feel of it has Loki wanting.
Deception. Has to be. But they are immune to enchantment. And there’s no magic on this man.
To be loved like that. To be held and... cherished. Even now, Mobius looks at them like they hold of all of his hopes and dreams. Loki wonders how they are looking back.
“It’s okay.” Mobius holds up both hands now, like placating a wounded animal. “I know it’s overwhelming.” Mobius takes a small step forward. Loki does too. Mobius is right there. A promise of a life Loki never thought they’d have - right there.
“Mobius,” Loki says, and the name is perfect on their tongue. They could say it a hundred times more, a thousand. They are desperate to. “Mobius.”
“I’m right here.” Mobius steps closer. Loki reaches and grabs his forearm, bunching a handful of that ugly sleeve into their fist. “I’ve got you.”
“You cannot imagine how long -”
“Step away from him,” comes a new, authoritative voice. This one, like Mobius, lacks fear, but unlike Mobius, is decidedly not Loki’s soulmate.
“We’re kind of in the middle of something,” Mobius says over his shoulder, to Captain America. “Could you give us a minute?”
Captain America does not give them a minute. “Release the citizen, Loki.”
“Wow, you are really misreading the situation,” Mobius says.
In the sky, a flying vehicle arms its weapons. Every nerve in Loki’s body stands on end, seeing Mobius in the way of it.
Loki yanks Mobius forward, closer to him, then behind him, shielding him with their body.
“Loki!” Mobius starts.
But its too late. Captain America is moving closer. Loki blocks some of his blows, misses a few others. He’s strong, but not on the level of a god. Not usually. But Loki keeps leaving themself open to protect the vulnerable mortal behind them. Loki doesn’t think Captain America would hurt Mobius, but the risk is too great. The cost is too high for Loki to guess wrong.
The sudden arrival of Tony Stark only makes matters more difficult.
When Loki raises their hands in defeat, Mobius storms around them.
“Mobius,” Loki says in alarm. Mobius is now in the way of far too many weapons. Does he not understand how fragile he is? Or how important?
“I got this, Loki,” Mobius tells them. To the others, “Now everybody hold on a minute.”
“Please move yourself to safety, citizen,” Captain America says.
“I’m perfectly safe right here.”
“Standing right there is how you get a knife in the back,” Tony Stark says.
“Loki won’t hurt me.”
“He must be brainwashed,” Captain America says.
Mobius huffs out a frustrated breath. “You aren’t listening. Loki is my soulmate.”
Tony Stark looks at Captain America. “Definitely brainwashed.” He clears his throat. “But I’ll bite. Who exactly are you?”
“Mobius M. Mobius.”
“Uh, huh. So your parents hated you,” Tony Stark says. Before Mobius can answer, Tony asks, “And what do you do, Mobius M. Mobius?”
“I’m a data analyst for a corporate conglomerate.”
“Right,” Tony Stark says. “Loki of Asgard forever bound to Mobius M. Mobius, the data analyst. Sounds fake, but okay.”
Mobius’s shoulders sink. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”
Annoyance flares hot under Loki’s skin. Mobius is perfect and how dare these simpletons insinuate otherwise. How dare they make him feel anything less than he is.
Loki takes a strong step forward, but Mobius catches sight of them first and places a hand on their chest, stilling them. Loki holds, only for Mobius’s sake.
“It’s no big deal,” Mobius says.
“They cannot speak to you like that. You are the soulmate of a god.”
“I’m not thrilled about it either. Data analysis is a respectable line of work. I’ve saved my company hundreds of thousands of dollars.”
Loki nods along, hoping they look impressed enough to spare Mobius’s feelings, when truly they have no idea what he is talking about. But whatever restores Mobius’s confidence is what they will do.
“Huh,” says Tony Stark. “Pencil pusher just stopped the god of mischief with a touch. You see that?”
“I saw it,” says Captain America. “I don’t think they’re lying.”
Mobius presses his lips together in a hard line before taking a breath and saying, “Loki, you have magic, right? Can you like...” He holds up his hands and waggles his fingers. “Magic us out of here. I think it’s getting a little crowded. Some conversations are supposed to be private.”
Loki likes the idea of... talking, but they had a plan when they came here today.
Loki looks at the scepter. At the people, no longer kneeling. At Captain America and Tony Stark, arguing about Mobius. And then, finally, they look at Mobius himself, with his calm, steady presence, ever-soft smile, and ill-fitting suit.
Loki meant to conquer all of Midgard. And this, being captured, was part of the plan. But. Perhaps. What’s waiting another day? Or two.
They very well can’t let Mobius be captured. To think of it, most of their plans might need changing now.
“Hold onto me,” Loki says.
“Happily.” Mobius goes easily into their arms.
And Loki holds tight as they magic away.
#i wrote this#lokius#loki x mobius#wowki#lokius fanfic#soulmate au#this has been in my drafts all week#i've been trying to figure out how to end it i'm still not sure lol but i think we've reached an okay place?#forgive errors i didn't want to rewatch the whole movie so i might be forgetting important plot points#also forgive any mischaracterization of your faves i tried to be gentle#i had a thought about this that would not leave until it was written
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Thoughts on rp?
ENTHUSIASTIC YES !!!!
it can be kinda silly or cringy if you don’t commit to it, but when all parties involved let themselves get truly invested in it it’s sexy as shit. especially in monogamous relationships, you can’t always explore all possibilities and fantasies you’d like, so it’s an easy and fun way to embrace them. i’m honestly surprised people don’t partake more often, because it just seems fun! why not play around with what you and your partner are into. as long as it’s safe, sane, and consensual, there’s no harm whatsoever.
i’m just gonna drop some characters that i think are really into it below. keep in mind that these are just my personal interpretations of the characters. sakusa and hirugami’s section involves some harder kinks, including consent play, so skip theirs if you’re not into that kind of thing.
keigo takami. oh my god hawks loves role play. he especially loves role playing situations where you have all the power over him. for example, boss/subordinate, cop/criminal, even just playing like you’re a stranger he met at a party or in his apartment building and you seduce him. he likes acting like he’s going to put up a fight only for you to put him in his place. his favorite by far, though, is pro hero / villain. yes it’s on the nose, but he just loves when you dress up in some tight, evil looking costume, tie him up, and strip him out of his hero costume until he’s completely embarrassed and needy as all hell. he loves the “no wonder you aren’t the top hero. you fell so fast and i didn’t have to do a thing. maybe you wanted this to happen all along, huh? you never wanted to be good. you just wanted to feel good.” god. just fucking pull his hair and whip him into shape and his eyes will glaze over and you’ll be left with a shivering, fucked-out mess.
matsukawa issei. oh my god he’s a whore for the classics. the schoolgirl outfits, maid dress, playboy bunny costume, he wants it all. please god let him grab your ass under a short skirt. he’ll melt. this also might be a little strange but i feel like he’s into like….sex work scenarios?? that sounds bad but like, you pretending to be a stripper and giving him extra attention when he tips you a $50. him dressing up as a respectable businessman and you knocking on his bedroom door in lingerie and a long coat pretending to be a call girl. it’s all kinda sleazy but it’s appealing to him because he gets to feel special in a really lovely way. like of all the men you’ve seen, he’s the one that’s different. you chose him. it eases his insecurities.
bokuto koutaro. he likes acting….dumb. completely stupid. as soon as he learns about the concept of role play he can’t get enough. he’s constantly approaching you with new fun ideas of what you can do. just a few of his ideas include: he’s a big gym buff and you feel him up and get him to sleep with you. he’s a home repairman that you take advantage of. if anyone is into pet play it’s him. just let him go brainless and let you lead. he loves it. drools over it. can’t get enough.
hirugami sachirō and sakusa kiyoomi. both of these men are into horror role play, but in very different ways. i’ve talked in another post about how jennifer’s body was hirugami’s sexual awakening, and this holds firm here. he likes acting like his normal self and letting you just….attack him. tying him up, pulling his hair, insulting him, interrogating him. oh my god, fucking bite him. spit on him. he wants to feel like a victim, but in the sexiest way possible. treat him like he’s disposable, like you’ll steal his life away and leave right after he cums. i promise he’ll be out of breath and grinning like an idiot by the end of the night.
sakusa, on the other hand, likes to play mean. i feel like he likes feeling like the bad guy. he’s so particular and restrained in his daily life, he just wants to let loose and break every rule when you’re alone together. pretend to be asleep while he feels you up like he just broke into your house to fuck with you. let him cover your mouth and fuck you over your kitchen counter like he’s a home invader. if anyone out there is into knifeplay or consensual non-consent, he’s your man. let him get a little too rough with you, or fight him for control. sometimes he’ll let you win. either way he loves it. i am a final girl x sakusa kiyoomi advocate.
#ngl writing keigo and hirugami’s made me a bit dizzy#n i’m sorry if anyone isn’t into what i said about sakusa i just needed to speak my truth#i saw a headcanon about him fucking you hardest during the gory parts of slasher films and it had not left my brain#💌..h word w meg#keigo smut#hawks smut#keigo x reader#hawks x reader#matsukawa smut#matsukawa headcanons#bokuto smut#bokuto headcanons#sakusa smut#sakusa headcanons#hirugami smut#hirugami x reader#hirugami sachiro x reader#cw consensual nonconsent#cw consent play
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𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝
Pairing: Neighbour!Bucky x reader
Warnings: Mentions of knife, blood, cursing, murder, mention of cannibalism, dark!Bucky(?), major character death, slight smut, fluff.
Summary: Bucky set his eyes on his sweet and cute neighbour who had suffered from a loss recently, determined to make her his.
Word count: 4.3k
a/n: This is my entry for @ambrosiase hotel indigo writing challenge. It’s my first ever writing challenge, and I had a lot of fun writing this! Honestly, I'm really grateful for this challenge because it motivates me to finish this wip that has been sitting in the draft for too long. Thank you for this lovely challenge mae ♡♡
Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. If you see any mistakes, do let me know!
Room ⥤ Modern muse
Room service ⥤ neighbour + criminal
“Oh that poor thing.”
Bucky whipped his head in the direction of the voice. It was Mrs. Lockwood, his neighbour on the right.
“Huh?” He didn’t mean to voice out his confusion, but his brain was somewhat short-circuited, barely able to function when his sight was filled with you, and you only.
“That sweet girl over there,” Mrs. Lockwood was referring to you, his sweet neighbour to the left he was staring at, before the old lady came interrupting.
He had been staring for 5, 10 minutes maybe? He swore he wasn’t a pervert, you were just a sight for sore eyes, the healer of the wounds in his soul.
“What about y/n?” He asked, curious to listen to what his neighbour would say about the other neighbour. Also, he was fairly new to the neighbourhood, having just moved in last month, he ought to catch up with the gossip.
“Her boyfriend went missing a few months back, poor girl was devastated. Police suspected it was murder, even suspected y/n!” The old lady shook her head, casting pitying glances at the oblivious girl in the sundress, bathing under the sun with a book in her hand. “She’s such a sweet girl, how could they have suspected her?”
Bucky glanced at you, heart racing when you caught him looking. You shyly waved at him, a small smile plastered on your face hiding the underlying sadness of the loss of your loved one. His hand felt clammy when he raised one of them to wave back, his usual flirty self vanished whenever you were involved in the equation.
“Boy, you are in love aren’t ya,” Mrs. Lockwood teased, “I say go for it. Our lovely y/n definitely needs some lovin’ after what she’d been through and young man, I think you are the right person.” Her eyes crinkled as she patted Bucky encouragingly on the shoulder, like a loving mother cheering up her son.
Bucky, who was usually composed, blushed furiously. That big brain of his still hadn’t regained its functions thus he found himself unable to stop Mrs. Lockwood when she hollered at you.
Clearly immersed in your book, you jumped a little when you heard your name being called.
“Y/n, this young man would love to take you out on a date, what d’ya say?” His eyes widened at the accusation, though it was true that he wanted to date you, he just needed time to gather the guts to ask you out.
He saw you put down your book, walking towards him and Mrs. Lockwood. You were a front yard away from him, shielding the harsh sunlight from your eyes with your hands while leaning onto the fence.
“I’d love to,” you had to speak louder, and Bucky loved your voice as he only heard it only a handful of times now, often you were shy and quiet when you saw him.
“U-uhm, how about Saturday then,” He stuttered like a teenage boy who first received a love letter, suddenly forgetting how to speak, speech lost in the sea of disbelief and excitement, and affection.
You said nothing, only nodding and smiling at him, flashing those pearly whites.
“Great. 6pm. I’ll pick you up,”
“See you soon, James.” He watched as you walked away, a teasing smile on your face before you disappeared into the door. Gosh how he loved the way his name sounded on your lips, and he’d give anything to hear it again, and again.
Saturday came too soon, Bucky was not prepared at all. Well, he had done the reservations for the restaurant he’d planned to bring you to tonight, ironed out the creases and wiped off the non-existent dust on the dress shirt he would be wearing, so why was he nervous?
5:50 pm.
Call him old-fashioned or whatever, he’d prefer early to late and would love to escort you to his car. He stood in front of your porch, palm sweating and if his metal arm could secrete sweats, he was pretty sure it would end up like its counterpart.
You opened the door as soon as he rapped his knuckles on the wooden door, seeming eagerly waiting for him as he was for you.
He took in your outfit, the moderately revealing dress he liked, the one he saw you undress from, through his window countless times.
If it was possible to fall into a deeper love, he would.
The date couldn’t possibly be better than he imagined, it was perfect. Everything was great; the atmosphere of the restaurant, the quality of the food, and most importantly, you.
You were shy at first but opened up fairly quickly, telling him stories about you, and vice versa. You sympathized with him when he told you how he got the metal arm, your fingers grazing the delicate and intricate loops and lines on the metal surface.
His fingers were woven into yours halfway into the dinner, the cool metal fingers of his absently caressing your knuckles as you shared the story about your family, who disappeared mysteriously, then your ex-boyfriend, who went missing 5 months ago, like your family.
It was hard, talking about missing loved ones. Bucky could tell, by the way your hand unconsciously tightened, the lingering sadness in your eyes as you mentioned how happy you were before him. The way your tears were brimming in your eyes, threatening to glide down your face, it wrenched his heart, seeing how broken you were. He would try to pick up every broken piece of you in a heartbeat, mending them back together, fixing you until you were happy again if you would let him in.
He was kind of glad your ex-boyfriend was out of the picture, though it was a selfish thing to say. He desperately wanted to claim you, wanted to be your last and only boyfriend.
He’d been going on dates with you for a few months now. You were perfect, almost too perfect if he would say. You were practically his dream girl, so kind and generous. So sweet and loving. Pretty much everybody in this neighbourhood would agree with him and he sometimes wondered if he really deserved you. A beauty mingling with a beast. No one would ever want to see that, after all, even the beast turned into a handsome prince at the end of the fairytale.
Bucky wondered, if you found out what he did every night after you were asleep or what he took from your closet when you were away, would you still want him? If you found out the beast within him, would you still love him the same?
His thoughts were occupied and it wasn’t until the sharp pain in his fingers that he snapped out of his trance.
“Fuck!” You heard him cursing and went to him, gasping when you saw the streams of blood flowing from the deep cut from two of his fingers.
Hastily reaching out for the clean cloth from one of the drawers, you placed it over the wound, applying pressure on them.
The red quickly seeped through the pristine white cloth, two colours clashing as the red engulfed the white.
Bucky noticed you wincing at the red, gulping at the sight, head slightly turned away. It was obvious you were uncomfortable at the sight of blood, so he took the cloth himself and nudged you to wash the faint hint of blood on your palms.
“Sorry, now you might have to do this alone,” Bucky gestured at the ingredients on the counter, “and sorry for the cloth, blood stains are quite hard to get rid off.”
“Don’t you worry, a little hydrogen peroxide and the cloth will be as good as new,” Bucky let you tend to his wounds and pushed him towards the living room where he would sit at the couch for the next hour while you were busy at the kitchen preparing dinner.
While he was in the living room, he took in the interior of your house. He never got to take a close look, as he always had to sneak in when it was dark. The beige colour walls, cream coloured furnitures, books arranged perfectly on the floating shelves. The pictures and art hung on the clean walls, not one of them is crooked. The square coffee table with only the remote and a display plant on it, and when he shifted himself to sit at the center of the couch, did he realize the coffee table was lined up perfectly in the middle of the TV and the couch.
Bucky’s eyebrows raised, he didn’t depict you as a meticulous person. No wait, whenever he went out with you, you’d arrange the plates to sit between the utensils perfectly. When you get boba, the straws must precisely be in the center of the cup, and if you missed it, your eyebrows would furrow in annoyance subconsciously.
His eyes wandered over to your figure in the kitchen and was not surprised to find you wiping and hanging the cutting board on the ceramic wall, adjusting it with your fingers so it wouldn’t be crooked while waiting for the stew to simmer.
You caught him looking at you and threw a smile at him in which he reciprocated, then continued to let his eyes wander through your living room. This could easily be an IKEA showroom, he thought.
Another week went by, Bucky found himself more and more in love with you, if that was possible in the first place as if he didn’t already dedicate all the space in his heart for you.
You were both in the kitchen again. This time however, he was busy mixing the sugar, flour, and cocoa powder mixture, with you snuggling behind him, arms circling his waist as you watched him do the magic.
He felt sorry for not helping last time so he was making up to you by baking some brownies.
As you both were cleaning up, brownies baking in the oven, Bucky turned to you.
“Hey, I never asked, but what do you do for a living?” He questioned nonchalantly while wiping the huge plastic bowl.
The wet spatula fell from your grip, dropping into the sink of water, droplets of soapy liquid flecked on your shirt.
“O-oh, i’m an artist!” You let out a laugh to conceal your flustered state, “Aspiring artist to be exact.”
“An artist,” he hummed, as if chewing onto the meaning of the word, “could you show me your works?”
Your head whipped towards his direction, mouth parted in surprise. Nobody has ever appreciated your dream. Your family, your friends, your ex-boyfriends, all of them claimed that being an artist would lead you to being unsuccessful, and you deemed to prove them wrong.
“Yes, yes, of course,” you were overjoyed. Abandoning the half-washed utensils, you clasped your hand around his wrist and dragged him to follow you towards the second floor, into a room hidden behind another beige coloured door, where you kept all your works.
Rows of headless mannequins clothed in white dresses painted with red blossoms appeared before him as you pushed open the door.
He was utterly mesmerized. He trailed his gaze across the display, a smile painted his lips as he deduced that every piece of them was unique. No two dresses had the same pattern.
Some had plain red blossoms splattered on it, some had dark red waves littering on the bottom hem; some with brush strokes of red. There was also a different tone of red, bright and dark or somewhat in between.
“Wow, this is just … amazing!” He found himself at a loss for words, “are those blood?”
“Yes, they are.”
“I thought you don’t like blood?” Bucky teased.
“These are animal blood. I’m fine with it as long as it’s not coming out from a human,” you retorted.
He chuckled. Once again admiring the intricate patterns of your works, marvelling at how talented and perfect you were. His heart sank at the thought of the question he frequently found himself asking, how can someone so perfect like you end up with someone less than perfect like him.
You apparently noticed his changed demeanor as you inched yourself closer to pull him into an embrace, placing your chin on his chest, eyes searching for his sad blue ones.
“Are you okay?” He hugged you tighter, sighing.
“I’m fine. I just … I think you’re perfect and you’re everything I've ever wanted. But I'm not sure if I'm perfect enough for you.”
“Oh James, you’re more than enough. I assure you, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted too.”
Bucky felt like his heart was filled to the brim with adoration, butterflies erupted from his stomach. Your assurance was everything to him, keeping his wandering soul anchored and he was grateful for it, grateful for your existence. The more the reason to cage you by his side so you couldn’t ever leave him.
His lips were on yours the next second, his grip on your waist tightened as you deepened the kiss, tongue finding his; busy hands sliding from his stomach to his shoulder.
Both of you were drowning in this ecstasy, unwilling to part away from each other’s touch.
The loud ding of the oven startled the both of you. Momentarily parting from each other, you stared at him with a heated glance. His eyes were hooded, filled with lust, desire.
“Fuck the brownies,” you whispered, molding your soft lips on him once again, the hunger for each other far greater than the stupid brownies, “need you now.”
Bucky didn’t need to be told twice, large hands cupping your bottom as you hopped and hooked your legs behind him, arms instinctively went to his shoulders for support.
He brought the both of you to your room, the one he was all too familiar with, the one with the same cream coloured theme which could definitely pass as another IKEA showroom judging by how perfect the layout was.
The only odd thing that stood out in this far too perfect room was the trail of scratch marks extending from the door frame to the wall outside of the room.
The deep scratch marks were somehow etched deep in his brain, he couldn’t let it go. It felt as if there was a dot of blank ink on a piece of white paper, and even though there was more white than black, you’d only be fixated on the dot of black.
He would ask you about the haunting marks on the wall and your fingers that were tracing patterns on his skin would falter, you’d give him the warm smile he loved while brushing it off saying it was the huge Dobermann your aunt owned which did that.
Even when he was balls deep in you, the vivid image of the scratch marks were there in his head, though you were quick to draw back his attention with a grind on his hips, both of your bodies covered with sheen of perspiration. Strands of your hair sticking to your body, but you pay no care to them as you rocked your hips, chanting his name over and over again like a mantra, like a prayer.
His eyes were on your fucked out state, his grip on you like steel. The cool surface of his metal arm contrasted with your hot flushed body as you chase your high like a traveller chasing the oasis in a desert, desperate for a quench of thirst.
Even when he was chasing the same high, vision blinding with bliss, the marks were still there and this time they were accompanied by the white dresses painted with red, and red only.
Bucky was always a doubtful person. Doubting every single decision he’d ever made. Doubting himself, doubting others. But there was one thing he was certain of, there was something less than innocent lurking underneath your skin. Of course, he was still head over heels for you but he was pretty adamant to find out the sinister in you, hoping it would answer his questions, mainly the recurring image of a certain mark.
Bucky was a lot of things, dumbass , dork, clumsy(per sam), but he was not stupid. Hell, he was far from stupid. Those scratch marks, definitely not the Dobermann.
You were a perfectionist, you couldn’t possibly leave the mark there and acted like nothing happened in the first place. He’d imagine if it was the dog, you’d probably have someone fix the dent the same day, unwilling to allow even a speck of blemish in your flawless house.
Bucky was a lot of things, and being a dumbass was definitely one of them as he was showing up on your porch in the evening unannounced.
He’d considered sneaking in like he used to do but he knew, he saw that you were still in the house. He couldn’t and wouldn’t jeopardize your relationship with him knowing he’d get caught.
He knocked on your door, hearing footsteps paddling, rushing to him.
As you opened the door, your eyes widened at the sight of an awkward Bucky. Although you were quick to throw him an unalarming smile, he still caught the nervousness in you.
There was something off with you. The disheveled hair, thin layer of sweat adorning the crown of your head, unknown wet liquid staining your shirt.
He caught a whiff of the strong smell of chemicals wafting through the door, it smelled a lot like bleach.
“I’m sorry,” he scratched at the back of his neck, “is this not a good time?”
“It’s fine, come on in.”
The smell of bleach invaded his nose the moment he stepped into your house, flooding and overwhelming his senses causing him to wince.
“Were you deep cleaning?”
“Yeah, I accidentally spilled some of the animal blood this morning. Had to use hell lots of hydrogen peroxide to get rid of them. Sorry for the smell.”
“No no, it’s okay. Let me just open the windows and door, okay?” He was getting a little light-headed now, desperately needing some fresh air. “Doll, you need to ventilate every time you use bleach, it’s harmful for your health to inhale all these fumes.”
You blushed at the term of endearment, yet wanting to blame him for not calling you that earlier.
He went over to open the windows, sighing contentedly at the waves of fresh air hitting his face as the wind blew in.
He felt your arms snaking around him, head leaning against his broad back.
“I love you, James. Wouldn’t know what to do without you.”
“I love you too.” He turned around and hugged you, his chin propped on your head, not knowing you had a solemn expression on your face.
He’d spent the evening with you, watching TV on the couch with you in his lap. It was so mundane yet he’d never got bored of this, wanting to do this with you for the rest of his life.
Outside the window, the orange and yellow sky faded into darkness.
“Let’s order take out, how about Thai food?”
“I’ll cook,” you kissed him on the lips and got up from his lap before he could reply anything.
“Ok, you need help?” He heard a faint ‘no, it’s fine’ coming out of the kitchen followed by the clanking of pots and utensils.
His neck stretched to peek at your figure in the kitchen, too busy chopping up ingredients to notice he was no longer at the living room.
He made his way down the basement, where the pungent smell of the bleach was still lingering.
The wood creaked as he stepped on the stairs, announcing his arrival to the darkness surrounding the basement. The soft glow of light illuminated the large space, a wall of tins stacking on each other revealed to him. A few easels of different sizes were propped on the wall with several grey aprons hanging beside them.
He walked closer to examine the insane amount of tins. A small label that said Pig blood was stickered on the body of the white tin.
His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. Do people really sell animal blood in metal tins, wouldn’t they go bad?
There were loads of questions in Bucky’s head, questions with answers only you could provide.
He noticed a chest freezer sitting in the corner of the basement and his legs brought him to it before he came to realize. The whole basement was so quiet he could hear the soft ringing in his ears, the racing of his heartbeat amplified as his hand inched towards the lid.
There was nothing in the freezer, to his surprise.
The empty freezer stared back at him, as if mocking his fruitless attempt. He was relieved, or disappointed, he couldn’t tell the difference and there was no point in distinguishing them now since you had nothing to hide. He wasn’t even sure what he was expecting to find in the freezer.
“Babe?” You stood behind him with an apron on, a knife in your hand, a second after he closed the door to the basement.
He leaned against the door frame, hand went to his head, eyes squeezed shut as he pretended he was having a headache.
“Felt dizzy all of a sudden, I was just making my way to the bathroom.”
“Oh, okay. I was just about to tell you dinner's almost ready,” a tooth-rotting smile was plastered on your face.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” he watched as you walked away, letting out the breath he’d been holding. His palm was clammy, heart beating rapidly.
“I love you,” You placed your hand on his arm, eyes meeting his.
“I know, doll. I love you too.”
This was seconds before dinner.
“James, I love you.” You whispered, watching him giving you a grin before he stuffed the meatball into his mouth.
“Wow, I'm so loved today. It’s the secon- no, third time you’ve said ‘I love you’ to me today.” He grinned, heart bursting with love. “You know I love you too.”
This was mid-dinner.
“I love you so much, James.”
Bucky was getting suspicious of you. Were you hiding something, perhaps cheating on him? For there were no reasons for you to keep telling him you loved him even though he knew how much you loved him and vice versa.
“I love you,” you kissed his knuckles, “this might be the last time I get to say I love you, James.”
His eyebrows furrowed at your statement, mouth parting to question what you meant. Before he could voice out something, the world faded into nothingness.
A thin film of blurriness clouded his eyes when he opened them, Bucky had this feeling like he was drowning in a swamp and his whole body was bound.
Blinking furiously, he regained his vision. You were sitting on a chair leaning forwards while looking at him endearingly, your elbows propped on your knees, palms supporting your chin.
“Hello, my love,” you were smiling oh so sweetly. The same smile that got him mesmerized and head over heels, except this time he didn’t feel the warm fuzzy feeling exploding in his chest, this time it was the goosebumps crawling on his arms and the chill creeping up his spine.
Now everything made sense, every single of his questions was answered.
You looked down at his body, the one that was once full of life, full of love. You watched as his glassy blue eyes etched with fear quickly reduced into this grey lifeless orbs, still pretty but lacking the element of a beautiful soul.
You weep for him, mourn for him. Mourning the short duration of love shared between the both of you. Mourning for yourself, for falling too hard. Mourning for him who kept you always in his heart.
To be honest, you were a little hesitant to end his life, he was better than the last one. He was perfect, warm, kind, loving, gentle, but not perfect enough. He simply did not reach your expectations, and you, could not bear imperfections, even the slightest. The answer to his downfall was pretty easy, he was too close to the ugly truth. And despite you knowing his love for you outweighs his doubt and fear in you, you simply couldn’t risk it.
Your love for perfection exceeds your love for him.
The melodious music of your ringtone echoed in the ample space of the basement, you brought up your phone to your ears as you answered the call.
“Mrs. Lockwood? Yes. Of course. I did. No no no, I’ll do it for you this time. He would definitely taste delicious I assure you.”
Time to get to work, you sighed as you stood there with a white dress splattered with blood. How artistic, you thought.
You always loved this part of the process, you’d wear the whitest piece of dress you own whenever you work with your projects.
You loved how the blood peppered your clothes, forming blossoms of dark red flowers on the fabric.
You kept every single piece of them, because no two are the same. Every one of them tells a story, of men and women who loved you and who you loved, of those who were once a body with a soul.
Wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks, you gave Bucky one last loving look and the blade of your butcher knife came in contact with his once pink but now pale skin as you hummed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the basement, forming echoes.
A few blocks away, a baby cried, body covered in mucus. The tiny infant cried, each time louder than the previous, wailing his lungs out, as if mourning. For one soul born, another reaped.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky imagine#bucky barnes#bucky x y/n#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x you#james bucky barnes#neighbour bucky#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes fic#the hotel indigo writing challenge#maeras writing challenge
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to all the pilots i've loved before {poe dameron} - 2/4
part two: laughter lines on tired eyes
summary: you’re in love with poe dameron. it’s both the most complicated and most simple thing in the galaxy - and it’s all shoved into a shoe-box under your bed, in the form of a thousand love letters. here’s to hoping he never finds them. (series masterlist)
warnings: this one's pretty angsty - mentions of death + loss
enjoy :)
- jazz xx
Poe had always been terrified of losing you. It came with the territory of his job, but a lot of it stemmed from the fact you were person who he was closest with.
Dear Poe,
He tried not to think about it, really. Why would he? There was no point in pondering upon depressing scenarios when you brought enough excitement to his real life. He'd always known to some extent that there was a chance you could be lost in battle but that was a thought he shoved to the back of his head. It was locked away in a chest in a dark corner - another thing he didn't need to think about.
It occurred to me today that I'm probably in love with you. At first, I thought I was always just really happy to see you, but then I realised this morning, a MONDAY morning when I normally despise everyone including you, that I actually really wanted to see you.
But some things in life were unavoidable, and being dragged into a meeting room with a solemn looking Leia Organa was one of them. For Poe, it was an uncomfortably similar scenario to one he'd faced 25 years earlier. The General was more tired now, though - tired of fighting, tired of the war, tired of having these fucking conversations.
I'm never going to tell you, but as you know, I am famously bad at containing my emotions and I had to put this....somewhere.
They always started the same.
"I'm sorry."
Poe frowned. "What's happened?"
I'm sure it'll pass. I've had loads of random crushes in the past but they all went away. Do you remember Larry, the guy from the hangar, who I fancied for like a week last summer? And that very brief crush I had on Han Solo? Huh, maybe I have a time.
"(Name)'s squadron was flying back from Coruscant when the fleet took a hit," Leia's voice was shaky. Worlds away from her normal authoritative tone. "Three jets disappeared from our radars, including theirs."
"But you've found them, right?" He pushed. "You have to have found them-"
"- we've sent out several search parties," she cut him off. "They haven't found any wreckage on nearby planets, but that's good news, because it means they might have not been knocked down. It might be that they diverted to another planet to lay low for a few days."
I think it's the way you smile at me. You might not notice it, but you have these little creases by your eyes, and your lips always upturn even when you try to resist laughing. I really like your hugs too.
Poe sat up in his seat, heart rate suddenly picking up to a speed that almost beat that of his X-Wing. Clammy hands, sweaty palms, little black dots beginning to form at the edges of his peripheral vision. Suddenly, he was eight years old again, gripping the sides of his chair, throat as dry as the desert on a hot summer's day; brown eyes filled with sorrow and tears, feeling like a punch to her goddamn throat. She hadn't shaken that vision out of her head, not ever - and now, here it was all over again - the same face, the same creased brown, the same eyes. They were more tired now, with laughter lines etched around the sides, brown irises a little darker and more sunken. But Poe's eyes had never lost that spark - it had dimmed a little bit, but it was still there. Whether it would be after all this was hard to say.
And just...well it's you really, isn't it? It's the way you go out your way to make me smile when I'm sad and the way you'll fight anyone who makes me mad.
"Let me lead a search party," he begged. "Please, I'll find them in now time-"
"- Poe, you're too close to the matter," Leia replied. "You can help, though."
"Anything," Poe said. "I'll do anything."
"We've been trying to locate the back-up plans that (name) prepared for the mission - they should include a list of potential safe spots," she explained. "If you can find that list, we'll begin searching them."
"Have you tried their quarters?"
"I didn't want to invade their privacy," Leia said. "But if you happen to have a key, then-"
It's everything. It's your resilience and your humour and the way you see the best in everyone. The way you're never afraid to fight for what you believe in or stand up for what's right.
She was cut off by the sound of Poe's chair legs screeching against the floor. He was up in a split second, flying out the room without another word. His fists were balled up as he stormed down the corridor, nails digging into the palms of his hands - the pain of them piercing his skin was merely a reminder that all this was real. It wasn't a nightmare. He wasn't going to wake up and find you asleep in your room, safe and sound.
If Leia was right, and you were just laying low, would you not have said something to him? Found your own way to pass the message on? It wasn't like you to just disappear without a trace. You were always the organised one; the one who carried band-aids for when he inevitably burnt himself on a soldering iron, and the one who stitched him up every time he came staggering back from a mission, covered in minor scratches that he had heroically labelled battle scars.
You're amazing and I'm so lucky you're my best friend. This war is fucking awful but having you by my side makes everything a little less fucking awful.
Your room was just as you'd left it; tidy, but lived in. The jacket you'd stolen from him two years ago was strewn across your desk chair; the desk itself was piled high with random papers and forms, and there was a photo beside them of you, him, Finn and Rey. Some of your clothes were tossed on the bed, and your spare pair of boots was dumped in the middle of the floor.
Poe quickly scanned the room, before rifling around the sheets on your desk - but, to no avail. They were just random notes, and what looked like a letter from your father. He tried to recall any thing that might point to where you kept your mission plans - there had been the time you'd leant him your X-Wing maintenance guide, which was in a box under your bed.
This is probably something I'll take to my grave. Maybe I'll tell you about it in like 20 years when we're married to different people and meet up for Life Day. And I'll be all like 'hey, Poe! This one time when we younger, I was in love with you' and we'll laugh about it.
Falling to his knees onto the floor, Poe flipped your duvet up and began to peer underneath. Dust bunnies, a maintenance kit, your old blaster, the book he leant you nine months ago, and a box full of papers. After pawing about for a minute, he pulled the shoe box out and tore it open.
Now, it should be said that you had never considered the possibility that Poe would ever look under your bed without you knowing. Why would he? Unless he was creeping about, of course - but he'd never do anything like that. It wasn't in his nature, and you'd put the fear of god into him more than enough times for him to be clever enough not to do that. This was different, though; it was literally a matter of life and death.
I guess that means I think we'll still be friends in 20 years. And 40 and 50 and 60 and until we're old and wrinkly and too senile to fly a jet. I love you now and I'm sure I'll still love you then.
Tipping the papers out onto your floor, Poe crossed his legs and began to search through them.
He didn't see it at first.
All the letters that said dear Poe, I love you.
When he did, his heart stopped. Like, that full on, gut clenching, air-stealing, pulse pausing stomach drop. It only further added to his theory that this whole fucking terrible day was just a dream - but maybe, just maybe, this bit was a little less terrible.
Hands shaking (now for a different reason), Poe grabbed the first letter from the pile. It was dated to just over a year ago.
Love, (name)
There was a lot to unpack; firstly, you'd been in love with him for a fucking year. And you'd brought up the secret crush on Han Solo that you swore to never talk about - and did you really think he'd ever be too senile to fly a jet? Poe would have been insulted if that first revelation hadn't reduced his entire thinking capacity down to one, tiny brain cell.
Clutching the letter in his hands, Poe fell back against the bed. All this information - your disappearance and the declarations - was much too complicated for him to process all at once. The worst part was that you'd said you were going to take it to your grave and now...well now, you actually might have.
But there was still a chance - a chance that you were still out there, trying to find your way back to him. To your best friend.
You had to come back.
tags: @neverlandlibrarian @asphyzzz @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ubri812 @taina-eny @dessinemoiunehistoire @fangirl-316 @princessxkenobi @brandyllyn
#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron x you#poe dameron imagine#poe dameron fluff#poe dameron angst#poe dameron imagines#poe dameron reader insert#star wars x reader#star wars x you#star wars imagine#star wars fluff#star wars angst#star wars imagines#star wars reader insert
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