#˖.˚ ☾ 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ˳ ࣪⭒

[silkysarchive]

𓆩༺🖤༻𓆪 𝕎𝕖𝕝𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕚𝕔 𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕧𝕖 𓆩༺🖤༻𓆪

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝, 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐞-𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨-𝐭𝐡𝐞-𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 — stories once written under another name, now laid to rest here.

⟡ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝: – echoes of characters I used to dream about – words from softer, quieter nights – a little chaos, a little heart

⟡ 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰: @silkylovey 𝑰’𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘.

༒☾⭒ 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒍𝒊��𝒆 𝒎𝒆 ⭒☽༒

[loneliestluvr]

✧˖° “ 𝒊 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒊 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒐 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅. ” ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒏. 𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏. 𝒕𝒂𝒖𝒓𝒖𝒔. 𝒃𝒊. 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒊𝒆. 𝒔𝒉𝒆/𝒉𝒆𝒓

𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒓/𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓. 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒋𝒎 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆.

𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏! 𖤓. masterlist. rules.

House of Eternal Flame — coming soon

𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈: nothing ✧.*

[flamingofethers]

𝙲𝚁𝙾𝙲𝙾𝙳𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝚡 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁(𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝)

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚢@hk-4ever

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

“Wearing my coat and and in the arms of another man? I’ve been to nice to you my dear..let me show you what happens to brats”

༼𓆊.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.𓆊༽

𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 ��𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚝. 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚗 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚎. 𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎 �� 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚗. 𝚂𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚍 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 . 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔. "𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐" 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚜 "𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 . 𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐" 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 . 𝙾𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜. "𝙸'𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞" 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛 "𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚢". "𝙾𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚢".{𝚎𝚗𝚍}

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉-𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚𝒆𝒅 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒇 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈,,❦

[dreamyinception-world]

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘸.

𝘞𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘦?

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕! 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒓! 𝑨𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅, 𝑰 𝒂𝒅𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆! 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

𝘈𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳. 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

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𝔹𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕖 𝕀𝕥 - 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 | 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗐𝖺, 𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 + 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀 | 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖧𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 ��𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗎𝗉, 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖽𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄. 𝖧𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾..𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖥𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅.

𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑶𝒃𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 - 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 | 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 + 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 | 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬– 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤, 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦.

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𝔽𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 ℍ𝕠𝕞𝕖 - 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 | 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘴𝘢𝘯 + 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘈𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘬𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘢.

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦

𝔹𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕖 𝕀𝕥 - 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 | 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗐𝖺, 𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 + 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀 | 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖧𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗎𝗉, 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖽𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄. 𝖧𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾..𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖥𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅.

𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑶𝒃𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 - 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 | 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 + 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 | 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬– 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤, 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

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𝘔𝘺 𝘌𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘚𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦 - 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 & 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 | 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 + 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘠𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪’𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴. 𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘠𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.

𝕄𝕪 𝕊𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕋𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 - 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 | 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗁𝗈 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘖𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯– 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 1 𓈀⋅ 🍵𓄹𓂃 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 2 𓈀⋅ 🍵𓄹𓂃

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𝔹𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕖 𝕀𝕥 - 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 | 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗐𝖺, 𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 + 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀 | 𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖧𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗎𝗉, 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖽𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄. 𝖧𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾..𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖥𝖺𝖼𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅.

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𝔽𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 ℍ𝕠𝕞𝕖 - 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 | 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘴𝘢𝘯 + 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘈𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘬𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘯, 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳’𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘢.

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦

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𝘔𝘺 𝘌𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘚𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦 - 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 & 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 | 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 + 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘠𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪’𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴. 𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘠𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.

𝔅𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢 - 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 + 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 | 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂 + 𝗃𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖮𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄, 𝖬𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖢𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝖢𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖥𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝖲𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝖾𝖿 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖾𝗋, 𝖩𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈, 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾. 𝖧𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝖩𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗌𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗈𝗒’𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖽𝖾.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

𝒜 𝒮𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉 - 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 + 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 | 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗐𝗈𝗈𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀 + 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖮𝗇 𝖺 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗏𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌, 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗒.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

𝔅𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢 - 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 + 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 | 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂 + 𝗃𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖮𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄, 𝖬𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖢𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝖢𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖥𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝖲𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝖾𝖿 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖾𝗋, 𝖩𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈, 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺 𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾. 𝖧𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝖩𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗌𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗈𝗒’𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗎𝖽𝖾.

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 - 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗌, 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗆𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍. 𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖲𝖺𝗇, 𝖶𝗈𝗈𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖸𝖾𝗈𝗌𝖺𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋'𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌. 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌: 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖿𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍?

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 -𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢-

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴: 𝘰𝘯𝘦 | 𝘵𝘸𝘰 | 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 | 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 | 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 | 𝘴𝘪𝘹 | 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 | 𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 | 𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘦

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.☾‧͙⁺˚･༓‧͙⁺˚･༓☾.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

ℂ𝕠𝕕𝕖 ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖: 𝔸𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 - 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

ℙ𝕙𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕀

𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕣

͎u͎͎n͎͎i͎͎d͎͎e͎͎n͎͎t͎͎i͎͎f͎͎i͎͎e͎͎d͎ ͎e͎͎n͎͎t͎͎r͎͎y͎

..••°°°°••..°°••….••°° 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 ..••°°°°••..°°••….••°°

©𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏-𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅/𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂 2023 || 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉��𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ♡

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘈𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯-𝘕𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭-𝘕𝘰𝘋𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 4.0 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘓𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦

[lavendercitizen]

changed my tags up a little !

[lavendercitizen]

I am melting, the chocolate is melting—

If this is the price I have to pay for some sweets I'd gladly pay it every time😂❤️

You know I always come to you first, Jo. I know I probably annoy you, but I love you, and I have another TikTok for you. ❤️

Here.

A Sweet Deal

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 575

Summary: You want chocolate and Bucky delivers...but for a price😏

Author's Note: Omg this one! So fun and sexy and I love it so and I hope you like this my sweet! Thank you bunches for sending my way! Hope you have a beautiful day! HUGS! 🥰 Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️ Divider by my sweet friend @firefly-graphicsics thank you love🥰 PS Italics are Text Messages

Warnings: Fun fluff, flirting, light knife play, sassy and cocky bucky and reader, implied smut (18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!)

Gif NOT MINE: Credit goes to @mcavoys thank you bunches 🥰

‘How’s the debrief going?’

…

‘It’s goin’ doll. Why? Ya miss me?’

‘Maybe…I also want chocolate…and we have none.’

‘Aw I’m sorry baby girl. Did you check the secret stash?’

‘Yea, nothing! Are you going to be much longer?’

‘Why?’

‘I want chocolate.’

‘And you need me to get it for ya doll?’

‘Yes please.’

‘What do I get out of it?’

‘I’ll share my chocolate?’

‘Gonna need more than that…’

‘Kisses?’

‘I love kisses but…’

‘Someone is being difficult.’

‘ME? You’re the one who wants me to get you chocolate. You could go yourself ya know.’

‘But I know you’ll get it for me because you love me so.’

‘I do. And I will…’

‘But?’

‘But I want a present.’

‘I’ll show you my boobs if you bring me chocolate.’

‘See ya soon doll face…’

You drop your phone to the bed and smile. To pass the time you grab your book and start to read but quickly lose focus. Your feet bounce on the bed in impatience, disrupting Alpine from his peaceful sleep.

“Sorry fluffer,” you mumble. “Wish daddy would hurry up!”

Alpine meows and stretches out on the duvet. You give him some scratches and contemplate texting Bucky again but before you can you hear the front door unlock. You let out a little squeal and start to crawl off the bed.

The bedroom door opens and Bucky’s broad shoulders fill the frame.

“Where do ya think you’re going doll face?”

“I was coming to say hi to you!” you reply, sitting up on your knees and crossing your arms over your chest.

He stalks toward the bed, dropping three of your favorite chocolate bars next to you.

“You got all my favorites,” you gush, not paying attention to him as you start to open one.

In a flash the chocolate disappears and you look up, pouting in defiance.

“HEY!” you yell. “Give me that!”

You lunge for the chocolate but he keeps it just out of arms reach.

“I don’t think so doll,” he simpers. “First,” he says as he unzips his jacket, removes it and throws it over the chair, “you’re going to give me my present.”

He reaches along his thigh and pulls his knife free, flipping it several times before he kneels on the bed and inches closer.

You move backward and fall to the pillows.

“Are ya gonna take that off or do I have to cut it off?”

You look down at his Henley that you’re wearing.

“NO! Don’t! I love wearing it,” you gasp.

He smirks and moves over you, straddling your waist and twirling the knife between his fingers. You reach down and grab the hem, lifting it over your head to reveal your lace bra and panties.

“Can I have my chocolate now?” you sass with a little shake.

He leans forward and traces the swell of your breasts with the tip of his knife. You tremble beneath him, all thoughts of chocolate melting away.

“Now this,” he whispers, slipping the knife’s blade between your breasts, “looks gorgeous on you.”

He teases the knife along the fabric, relishing in the way your chest rises and falls with your heavy pants.

“But I’ll just have to buy you another one.”

With a quick tug his knife easily cuts through the fabric and it falls open.

“Bucky,” you breathe out.

“Still want your chocolate baby doll?” he asks, titling his head with a cocky grin.

@book-dragon-13 @christywantspizza @duchessoftheheart @dreamlessinparis @hiddles-rose @jhangelface0523 @lookiamtrying @loricameback @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @seitmai @turbolisedcomet @rebel-stardust @elliexsaurxasx @breakablebarnes @weekendgothgirl @lfnr-blog-blog-blog @bb-skyrunner @peaches1958

[lavendercitizen]

Mir you're kidding me- ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?? THE FACT THAT I GOT TO READ THIS? THAT YOU BROUGHT THIS INTO EXISTENCE? mir, I hope you realize that you are art, and you breathe art and you make art.

I got so overwhelmed it brought me to tears. Not only do you make the characters, with every little hushed whisper, every tear and shudder, come to life but you paint the air around them with each impasto of your devotion. You highlight the particles dancing through the crowded market place, you breathe color into Bucky Barnes' being.

I want this as a physical copy, so I can annotate this like I do with the books I deem so important that I actually dare to tarnish them with my own additions.

He was beautiful. Nothing like you'd seen in movies, but the type of beauty only artists could capture. It was the kind of staggering air that overwhelmed and sang to you in the oldest of ways, in the darkest recesses of memory— he was captured there, too. A painting only grew more mysterious and remarkable as it was studied[...]

The vibes this paragraph radiates? Mir, I love you I swear we do not deserve your talent. You speak what I speak. I don't even know how else to describe it. I want to live in your worlds.

"I need them."

"You need them?" He curtly nodded his head at you, his eyes never leaving the mess littering his table. He cleared his throat slightly and moved closer to the table, rocking his weight gently back and forth between the balls of his feet. His hand brushed against yours as he grabbed the cup you'd been holding in amazement.

That's CW!Bucky right there. And in the paragraphs before and the ones following. You know it's a comfort character when you can talk about them like you've met them before🥺

He slowly started opening up to you. About his past, about the things he could remember, or the lack thereof. He’d tell you about the lives he’d lived and the ones he was trying to piece together to come to terms with, the different names and titles that came along with them[...]

From Sergeant Barnes, the 107th, Steve Roger's best friend, fallen soldier- the winter soldier, to the lost soul that came out alive after everything, that has to bear the open wounds of something that should have never happened. You write of his pains so beautifully, it's hard not to feel inspired.

And yet, here he sat. A precious, wounded, little boy, forced to live inside an almost 100-year-old’s body.

I'm ngl I deserve financial compensation for the emotional damage this did to me😁✌🏻

It broke your heart— he shouldn’t be here with you right now in this small apartment in Romania. For many reasons. You shouldn’t know him, logic and emotion and ethics don’t measure up to something of his size. And yet, here he is.

My heart seized. I think about this so often— just the image of Bucky in the 40s, sweet, nerdy, heartthrob Bucky, untouched by what's lying ahead. It kills me a little inside.

He chuckled; something you weren’t used to hearing; his head lowering in unbridled meekness, mocking the words that were about to escape him, “This is uh, a lot for me. You’re so…” 

“You're so...” Yeah, no, I am not okay. No words can describe what I'm feeling rn but I am bursting inside.

"I want you to know how much I need that for you."

This may be insensitive to bring up under a fic.. — I would've commented under that post but it's a little late now and it was a little late (literally sometime in the middle of the night) then when I saw it — I sincerely hope it's not but I saw that post about wanting to be loved for once the way you already love. And (besides relating so much to that lmao) I am 100% certain that there's someone out there that sees poems in you and cherishes both the poem and the poet. Anyone that is loved by you is luckier than most.

Anyways, while reading I thought of that scene in “Dead poets society” < linking a screencap bc I can't find the whole gif

That's what you do for us. And I treasure it.

you deserve a soft epilogue, my love

beefy!bucky x f!reader

prompt: while hiding in Bucharest, Bucky meets you— a home, bearing cups of coffee— a refuge for a life that’s riddled with battles of his torturous demons.

warnings: angst. fluff. all the feelings. some suggestive language. talk of nightmares, body image, and trauma. love.

wc: 11.5k and not even a bit sorry

a/n: SORRY I’M POSTING SO LATE I JUST NEEDED TO AS SOON AS IT WAS DONE!! my beefy puppy just means too much to me, deal with IT

i do not give permission to translate, copy, or share any of my work

Keep reading

[lavendercitizen]

“wanted you to smile.”

You did it. All i am capable of rn is to simply: 🥺🥺🥺

But also...the fact that I don't have a Lumby in my life is so upsetting😤!

You're gonna kill me one of these days with these perfectly crafted, sugary sweet, enchanting pieces you write :') Their personalities match so well, and the softness with which he handles her is so tender and so so so bad for my health I can't-

This little world you crafted with this AU is such a comfort, and I love & appreciate that you share it with us, that we get to live in it for a little while. It's such a gratifying experience to get to read any of your works, the gracefulness with which the words flow while reading is always, without fail, beautiful.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZTdX4Y36e/

imagine surprising lumby with flowers like this after he had a hard day 🥺

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 ��𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

"bun, these are beautiful," his hands grab for the neatly wrapped bundle on the kitchen counter, "where'd you get 'em from?"

looking up at you with that boyish twinkle, you feel yourself heat up under his soft eyes. your head bows slightly, a tingle shooting down your spine as you watch him gently toy with the daffodils and orchids you spent an hour perfectly positioning. "i picked them, they're for you... know you had a rough day, and they reminded me of you."

he stops for a brief moment, his eyes flicker up to catch your sheepish ones. the bold blues brighten vibrantly while the corners of his lips struggle not to jolt up into that blinding grin you love. "for me?" he gushes, an awed pink shooting up the back of his neck. he looks at the flowers– soft, perfect, and dainty between his massive hands. just like my bunny, he thinks.

"thank you. don't know what i did to– but thank you. I love them," he holds them protectively against his chest, a smile spreading across his features while sniffing softly at the petals.

"they're just flowers lumby, you deserve flowers..."

"but they're from you," he corrects without missing a beat, a slight bounce appearing in his step that wasn't there when he walked through the cabin door. "always know just what I need to feel better, huh bun? my sweet girl just wanted me to feel real special, is that it?"

you preen under his words, the sincerity and voice in which he speaks them warming even the coldest nerves of yours. you nod meekly, "wanted you to smile."

he perks up at that, the grin set deep in the lines of his face only growing wider. "might do a bit more than just smile," he chuckles. his eyebrow raises watching you continue to squirm under his stare. "let's hang these to dry out. gotta keep them forever." he places them gently on the table before moving his attention solely to you.

he cocks his head as he takes you in, a dangerous smirk bouncing around his features. slowly stepping towards you, his hands grab for your waist and pull you flush against him.

bucky's eyes dance around your face until you scratch at his stomach, impatient and shy under his gaze. a deep and smug chuckle rumbles low in his chest, his nose nudging against yours as he mouths soft kisses to everywhere but your lips.

his tongue traces your bottom lip teasingly, a soft whine sounding in the back of your throat. his hands smooth up your shoulders and to the sides of your face. "gonna need a kiss now, flowers and a few kisses from my bunny sounds real good to me. gotta take care of me, right bun? that's what you're tryin' to do today?"

you nod ardently against his rough palms now caressing your face, his thumb smoothing over your cheek and dragging across your lower lip. "yeah... gonna need some kisses," he moans. his lips brush tentatively across yours, his lashes fluttering across your cheek as he breathes against you. "gonna let me love you, sweet girl? all i need to do is love you."

[lavendercitizen]

“Daddy?” You question.

“Yes doll face?”

Dream on Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You have zero filter when you’re intoxicated and you stammer out your thirsty nicknames for the man you have a deep crush on. When you don’t remember the next morning, he does.

Word count: 1,208

Author’s Notes: Hello! This was an extremely fun prompt to write and I loved every second of it! Thank you so very much @the-ss-horniest-book-club for giving me this prompt! I hope I did it justice! ❤️

Warnings: flirting, pet names (daddy, sergeant, sir, princess, doll) tension, alcohol consumption, intoxicated reader, embarrassed reader, cocky!bucky, Bucky is such a darn tease. I don’t think there’s any language (go me!) but if I have missed a warning please do let me know.

A successful mission that knocked the wind out of everyone seemed a good enough reason to relax and celebrate, at least according to Tony. Fortunately, you and everyone agreed since it had been quite a few months since you were able to let loose and relax with your closest friends. It was also a rare sight to see everyone with a smile on their face and looking so carefree and having pleasant conversations that didn’t involve missions and hydra.

You were sitting on the floor with your back against the couch, a glass of something in your hand and you were laughing hard at a joke Sam just told. Wanda was giggling next to you as she sipped her wine, her red hair falling over her shoulders and a smile that reached her eyes.

It was halfway through the evening when your favourite super soldier walked in with his hands in his front pockets. His Henley that accentuated his chiselled chest had you subconsciously licking your lips.

“Oh hey!” You slurred, wondering why he was swaying back and forth. Or was that the alcohol you had consumed? “Sex on legs has arrived! Hi Mister.” You teased, biting your bottom lip and sending him a wink. Bucky stood there shocked, blinking and staring at you before he chuckled and shook his head.

“She’s drunk.” Natasha told him with a smirk.

“Pssssh don’t be silly! I’m nooot drunk.” You giggled. “I wouldn’t mind if he tied me to his bed and demanded that I call him sir or sergeant.” You hummed to Wanda, not fully realising what just spilled from your lips. Maybe this was one of the reasons why Tony always reminded you the morning after that you needed a filter over your mouth.

Your crush on Bucky was painfully obvious. You always smothered him in compliments, flirty comments, hugs that lasted more than necessary. The whole team knew from day one,

even Bucky knew about it. The feeling was mutual as he too showered you with compliments and he would buy you a bouquet of flowers for no particular reason. It was almost like you were dating without the labels. Your usual self was taken over by your boldness and even the 6ft super soldier didn’t know where to look or what he should do.

“Come on, doll. Time for bed.” Through the blood beating in your ears, you heard him say. He gently grabs the half filled glass out of your hand and puts it on the table next to Wanda and gently pulls you to your feet. You giggle when you stumble into him, and hold onto his broad shoulders to steady yourself.

“Oh my, Mr Barnes! I could straddle these easily.”

Bucky chokes on his spit, ignoring the hushed giggles around the two of you. “Can you walk?” He asks as he steadies you back on your feet.

You laugh, moving your hands from his shoulders to his waist and shake your head.

“Can I ride you instead, sir?” Your comment has Tony shaking his head like a disappointed father. A smirk plastered on Sam and Nat’s faces.

“Doll, come on.” His arm goes under your legs and he carries you bridal style back to your room. Your finger wraps around the loose strands that fell out of his hair tie, and you gently stroke his beard.

“You’re so handsome daddy.” You mutter, gliding your fingers across his cheek and pulling his bottom lip down.

“Behave yourself, doll.” He teases, grinning and tightening his hold on you. Luckily your room isn’t that far, and he has no problem getting your door open and you inside.

Bucky gently lays you down on your bed. You groan slightly when you bounce, all the alcohol finally catching up to you and making you feel really nauseous.

“You gonna undress me?” You hiccup, your fingers already playing with the waistband of your pants.

“No, no!” Bucky hurries over to you and grabs your hands. “Wanda or Nat will come in soon and change you.” He tells you, kissing your forehead and leaving a bucket next to your bed. You’re close to passing out when you hear him say, “Good night, doll face.”

“G’night Sergeant.” No more than a few seconds after the words whisper out of your mouth, the room is black and you’ve fallen into a deep slumber. Bucky watches you from the doorway for a few seconds with a sly smirk on his face, wondering how much of this you’ll remember tomorrow, if anything at all.

***

The next morning, you’re surprised you’re not feeling worse than you do. There’s a slight ache in your head but other than that you’re feeling okay, apart from feeling hungry.

You head to the kitchen in search of some food. Bucky is already there, sitting on a stool spooning mouthfuls of cereal in his mouth.

“Good morning Buck!” You greet with a smile, sitting next to him. He has an odd look about him today, something about him seems… off.

“G’mornin’ doll. Sleep well?” The cereal crunches over his words and you nod.

“Like a baby.” You sigh, reaching for the cereal only to have Bucky stop you.

“Ah, ah, ah! Let daddy do it for you princess.” Bucky smirks and your eyes widen.

Did he seriously just say that? Where is this coming from?

“Daddy?” You question.

“Yes doll face?”

You shake your head and a breathy laugh comes out.

“Why are you using that word, Bucky?” You turn to face him. He’s biting back a grin before he answers.

“Oh sorry doll! Would you rather sir or sergeant?”

Your cheeks feel as though they are on fire. You just realised he’s said you have kinks for, ones you’ve only told Nat and Wanda about. So how did Bucky find out about them? Did the girls tell him? Or did… no. Oh no.

“What- what- what…”

“Tell me honestly, doll. Would you like to straddle my shoulders and then have me tie you to my bed and tell you to call me ‘sergeant’?”

What the hell happened last night?

“How did you KNOW about that?” You asked shocked, standing up and stumbling over your feet as you walked backwards until you felt the unit behind you. Bucky was closing in on you, his footsteps slow and precise.

“You told me last night as I walked you to your room, doll.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, how could you reveal such a thing and to the man you’ve been thinking about?

“Oh my god Buck I am so so sorry! I will never drink again.” You hide your face behind your hands, Bucky pulls them away and kisses your forehead.

“Nothing to be sorry about, I never would have known about your dirty little secret and never would have been able to make them come true.” His knuckle gently caresses your cheek. “Only if that’s what you want, of course. I’m not the type of guy to force you into anything you’re not serious about. We can forget this ever-”

“No!” You interrupt, your eyes moving from his eyes to his plump kissable lips. “No, I want this and I want you, more than anything else in the world.”

“I’m all yours, doll.”

[lavendercitizen]

Oh, oh, ohhhh Nika my love. This format is exquisite, starting each part with an answer to a question. Love that. And the way you wrote the transitions in between the parts, the angst, the flashbacks to Endgame, etc— all of it, impeccable as ALWAYS, literally. always.

To be honest, I read all of this with a very strained sort of intensity to find what you noticed yesterday, and I don't think I'm seeing it but I'll read it again in a moment. Looked at the comments to see if I could sneakily find something relevant in your answers by the way, saw one of the comments say they trust you more than marvel writers with the characters and I obviously have to agree — and you know what I think of your characterization you absolute fucking genius — I hope you're patting yourself on the back for that, because no one does it quite like you. I don't know why I'm reiterating this everytime in an almost pavlovian manner, but let me live. I need to get it out of my brain. It's like an itch I need to scratch.

Anyways!!!!! How dare you make me go Steve😍

"You’re so old, Rogers," you laugh, and he tilts his head as if to prove your point. "But I guess, kind of."

Only to make me go Steve😭😤

"You don’t get it." It’s cold in its finality, and it makes you sick.

that's my old man, the loml, but also the one that got away. thanks marvel.

"Trust me, you don’t," Steve says, and suddenly he painfully looks his age. His actual age, not the one you get by adding up the calendar years since he was born. There’s an undercurrent of weariness to it that makes you feel just a little less special. A little less alone.

Okay!!! See this is why I'm bringing up the goddamn characterization every single time, can you NOT, I'm still grieving. To even think about Steve's life and his struggles is so ridiculously agonizing, I just can't. That's my baby, okay. Endgame never happened, bye.

"You don’t have to be." He pauses for a moment, then adds, "I wasn’t."

I won't even comment.

"How old is he turning?" you ask.

"I don’t know," he sighs. "He used to be a year and a half older than me. So, about thirty-six. Give or take." He chuckles to himself, but it’s lacking the usual heart. "You would’ve gotten along great, you know. Back in the forties."

Everything about their relationship I can get, I gobble up like it's thanksgiving, they are everything to me. (Oh and thirty-six? Wow, daddy)

Sorry. That wasn't me idk who typed that?

"Star Trek," Rhodey says. "Terminator, Timecop, Time After Time."

I genuinely want to slam my head into my desk rn, all this time, ALL THIS TIME I thought the title was taken from the song Time after time, like the Cyndi Lauper one, I didn't know there is a fricking time travel movie with the title😭.

There’s nothing you can read in Bucky’s eyes, not even a challenge. You still move, just to escape them.

Miss Nika can you just.............not??

Hobbiton is the only correct answer by the way. Also Sam x Lucy when😌?

Alpine clawing at a wool scarve someone must've forgotten...now which intricate, very specific, totally planned piece in the puzzle is this? Jk, but Alpine is such an ominous character in this series, it's like she's above everything. An omnipotent being👻

"You look like shit."

Don't look at him. Just don't do it.

Just saying but the reader is a tough bitch, because at this point I would genuinely stop in front of him and start screaming like a banshee and also grab him by the arms and shake him like a piggy bank but that's just me.

And so you wake up again, and you wake up again, and you wake up again, and you wake with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

Oh the angst, that whole last part, truly my heart is full today.

Alright, bear with me. I'm trying to figure what it is you're seeing that I'm evidently not seeing. Is it that she can travel back and forth in time? I only knew of going back in time until this chapter, sooo mayhaps that? Is it the immaculate, delicious, addicting angst at the end— what with her remembering literally every single day and every thing and every moment? Last chapter you included Steeb's birthday, well only the day really, this one you mention Bucky's birthday? Okay parallels I see you‼️

You know what, I have no clue. I do not knowww, lmk though what it was. Also what I'm still thinking about all the fricking time is what Bucky wrote on her arm that he wanted her to show to him. It's literally ingrained in my mind. I need answers☹️

frequently asked questions about time travel [TAT bonus chapter]

chapter summary: Five times people asked you something about time travel, and one time you’re desperate for an answer yourself.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 3.1k

chapter warnings: references to time loop induced character death (it’s a whole thing); me getting sad and upset about endgame again; main series is a slow burn and these are flashbacks so bear with

a/n: this is a bonus chapter for my series time after time. if you haven’t read the main part of the series, you definitely should because i enjoy writing it, but you don't have to have read all or any of it to read this 💚 if this is your introduction to the series, the main thing to keep in mind is that reader has time-related powers that only a select few people know about. my june has been very stressful, but welcome back, we made it to july 4th!! better get comfortable because we might be here a while ;)

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

i. Why do you want to learn about time travel?

Your hands are clammy as the librarian looks down at you over the rim of her reading glasses, assessing you. You rub them against your shirt, trying to put on a convincingly innocent smile. Maybe the little gap between your teeth will work in your favor.

"It’s for a school project." Your clear your throat when your voice breaks a little. "For physics class."

"Mhm." She puts down the box she’s been carrying with a loud thump that makes you flinch. "Aren’t you a bit young for quantum mechanics?"

"I’m twelve," you lie disdainfully. You’re ten, but you’re tall for your age, and she already doesn’t take you seriously. You don’t know what quantum mechanics are. You only know that something about the way time passes for you is wrong, and always has been wrong.

And since no one was going to tell you what’s going on with you, you’re just going to have to find out yourself.

The librarian puts her hands in her hips with a sigh and then nods at you to follow her. You feel terribly small as you shuffle through the aisles filled with big, important-looking books. You grip the straps of your backpack more tightly. Usually, you love visiting the library and getting lost between the pages of a new favorite book; but today, you’re not here for a fantasy world.

You’re here for answers.

"I’m afraid we don’t really have any books for children on this topic," the librarian says, stopping in front of the most intimidating shelf yet.

You swallow thickly. "That’s alright," you manage. "I’m sure I can figure it out."

Her large eyes soften somewhat. "Tell me if you need help, alright, sweetie?"

You nod, and then she leaves you. You let out a deep breath, feeling for the heavy pendant around your neck.

As long as you wear this, nothing bad will happen to you.

It doesn’t stop the involuntary jumps and stutters of time, but it still brings you a strange sense of comfort.

You look up at the large shelf in front of you, and then you pick out one of the books at random, sit down with your legs crossed underneath you, and start to read.

Hours later, your head is thrumming with complicated formulas and concepts your brain doesn’t even want to try to understand. You still carry a bunch of volumes back to the front desk.

The librarian’s face looks kinder now, or maybe you’re just tired. It’s been about three hours for her, but you’re not sure how long you spent back in your little corner, flickering in and out of time.

"I’d like to borrow these," you murmur, pushing the stack towards her.

She purses her lips but doesn’t comment, just watches you stuff the books into your backpack. "Don’t you want to take anything fun for yourself as well? For when you’re done with that … project of yours?"

You blink at her, surprised. "I don’t know."

"Tell you what," she says, readjusting her glasses. "We just got some book donations that we don’t have the space for. Why don’t you pick one that you like?"

Great. Now this stranger is pitying you. That’s exactly what you wanted.

"I’m okay," you say, your cheeks burning, hastily clicking your backpack shut.

"Come on, you can’t spend all day studying that adult stuff."

You scowl at the condescension, but you’re too exhausted to argue much. You leave the library with a backpack full of complicated textbooks and a colorful paperback copy of The Wind in the Willows.

***

ii. So … how does this work?

You snort. "Really, that’s your question?"

Steve shrugs. "Nat said you told her you’re ready to use your abilities on missions now. But I need to know how they work before I can assign you properly."

"I mean, I’m not sure what you wanna hear," you say, putting your hands in your pockets. "I rewind things, I stop them, I fast forward."

"So, like a video recorder."

"You’re so old, Rogers," you laugh, and he tilts his head as if to prove your point. "But I guess, kind of."

Steve nods, and thinks. You continue walking in silence for a bit, and you watch the moonlight reflecting on the lake. The air smells like rain.

You’ve both been pretty terrible at sleeping through the night.

"When you say 'things'," Steve continues, "do you mean specific ones, or …?"

"Everything." You kick a pebble away with your shoe and it rolls into the water with a quiet splash. "My powers are kind of an all or nothing deal."

"Sounds exhausting," he says. "That why you’re always tired?"

When you take a sideways glance at him, he’s already looking, and there’s no accusation in his eyes. So you nod.

"It’s weird," you confess because his gaze stays on you, and somehow you think he’s the only person who might ever understand this part. "I mean, I keep moving through time and yet I’m the only thing in it that stays the same."

"Trust me, you don’t," Steve says, and suddenly he painfully looks his age. His actual age, not the one you get by adding up the calendar years since he was born. There’s an undercurrent of weariness to it that makes you feel just a little less special. A little less alone.

"Does it feel slow to you, or fast?" you ask. "Time passing?"

There’s a hint of a tired grin. "A little bit of both."

"Yeah." You look at your feet again as you walk. "I just think … I really wasn’t made out for this. Any of it."

"You don’t have to be." He pauses for a moment, then adds, "I wasn’t."

It’s about choices for Steve, you remember, and he didn’t choose this time; and yet, here he is, breathing the same damp spring air as you. It looks right.

You’re both quiet again, and you yawn as you put your head in your neck to look at the stars. They’re so much brighter here than they are in the city.

"It’s Bucky’s birthday today," Steve says. Always the present tense.

"How old is he turning?" you ask.

"I don’t know," he sighs. "He used to be a year and a half older than me. So, about thirty-six. Give or take." He chuckles to himself, but it’s lacking the usual heart. "You would’ve gotten along great, you know. Back in the forties."

"I’d have done terribly in the forties," you say with a grimace.

"Probably," Steve agrees, and you elbow him in the side. "Doesn’t change the fact."

You don’t know what to say to that, so you don’t say anything. You just keep walking.

Maybe you wonder a little.

***

iii. What’s the farthest you’ve gone?

You frown at Natasha, who’s leaning against the table next to you, watching the others put Barton in the suit. "Which way?" you ask, matching her quiet tone.

"Either," she says.

"Not that far," you laugh nervously. "Maybe ten minutes backwards? A little more than that when I fast forward?"

Natasha hums. "Right. When you skipped the second half of the nativity."

You look at her sheepishly. "You noticed that?"

She raises her eyebrows, but keeps her gaze straightforward. "Kind of hard not to notice when you went completely rigid in your seat for almost twenty minutes."

"Sorry," you whisper. "But the kids sucked and we both know it."

"I take the fifth."

"Star Trek," Rhodey says. "Terminator, Timecop, Time After Time."

"Someone did their homework on time travel media," you snort quietly, taking another sip of coffee. The bitter sting makes your nose twitch.

For all of the Avengers Campus’ other gimmicks and benefits, its only coffee maker is truly terrible.

"So, overall," Natasha continues, "this is uncharted territory for every one of us then, huh?"

"You could say that." You put your mug down to cross your hands across your chest, and she nudges you in the side.

"Hey. A little adventure’s good for you."

Ere the irrevocable moment passes, you think and try to smile. "If you say so, Nat."

"Think about it," Bruce says. "If you travel to the past, that past becomes your future. And your former present becomes the past, which can’t now be changed by your new future!"

"Sometimes I really want you to tell him," Natasha says, "just to see his reaction."

"Do you think I’d upset him a lot?"

"So, Back to the Future is a bunch of bullshit?" Scott says in disbelief.

"I think you’d blow his big green brain."

You laugh so loud they all turn to look at you. "Sorry," you say, turning it into a cough. Natasha bites her lip to hide her smile.

"You wanna jump in here, Y/N?" Rhodey says, clearly trying to prompt you to take his side in this discussion.

You shake your head, still grinning. "I’m good."

He throws his hands up in frustration. "Some help you are."

"Hey, I saved our test run from bug man over there, didn’t I?"

"I do," Rhodey says dryly. "Quite the intuition you had there."

"I trained her, remember?" Nat says.

"It’s Ant-Man," Scott mutters under his breath.

"Are we doing this or what?" Barton says, adjusting his helmet.

It’s hope that makes you trail behind the others, tugging at the pendant around your neck, head buzzing with thoughts. You can’t help that your insides feel like they’re curling up on themselves as Bruce gives his final instructions and you stand next to Natasha, so close your arms are almost touching.

You want this to work, for everyone’s sake, but at the same time your gut tells you that this whole thing might just go very, very wrong.

You bite the inside of your cheek, and the countdown rings through your ears like a gunshot.

***

iv. If you could go anywhere, anytime, where would you go?

"That’s not how it works," you say over the noise of steaming milk. "You know that’s not how it works."

"I don’t mean actually," Sam says, shaking up the ice cubes in his drink. "This is a hypothetical."

"Well, the past sucked pretty much all over, so why would I go anywhere?"

"Good point," he agrees. "But like, as an observer. What would you want to see?"

"Can I do fictional?" you ask. "Because I always thought Hobbiton would be really—"

"No." Sam rolls his eyes. "Doesn’t count."

"You said anywhere, anyti—"

"Anywhere doesn’t include made-up places."

"So much for the hypothetical," you mutter and hand out another drink.

"Fine, I’ll go first," Sam says. "Library of Alexandria, some point around 200 BC."

"You are such a nerd," you say.

"Your first choice was Hobbiton."

"I always thought Tudor London would be cool," your coworker Lucy chimes in. "You know, Shakespeare, Marlowe, Elizabeth I …"

"Bubonic plague," you remind her, but Sam already has his smug face.

"See? She gets how the game works."

"Why are you bothering me at work again?" you ask.

"Bucky’s late for our run."

"And you didn’t take the hint?"

"He did not," Bucky says and you flinch, sending the mug you’re holding crashing to the ground. Hot coffee spills all over your pants and apron.

"For fuck’s sake," you mutter, blinking heavily through your watering eyes as you raise your hands. Come on. Five seconds at most.

"He did not," Bucky says, and you put the mug down on the counter with a heavy thunk.

"You need to stop creeping around like that," you hiss.

Bucky looks at you incredulously and gestures at the coffee grinder screeching behind you, and the chattering crowd, and the fizzing of the steamer. "What would you like me to do, carry around an airhorn?"

"A spotlight would do the trick," you say distractedly, picking up the next cup in the line.

"Anything else you need?" Bucky says dryly.

"Just leave," you groan, "both of you."

"Very rude," Sam says and sneezes. You throw a napkin at him.

"Terrible service," Bucky agrees, leaning against your counter. "I think I’ll have a coffee first."

You put on your worst fake smile. "Get it somewhere else then," you say. "Or get in line."

"Oh, I already gave him your discount," Lucy calls over.

Bucky’s mouth twitches in amusement as you roll your eyes.

"Great. Do you wanna partake in Sam’s game of randomized rules as well while you’re at it? Anywhere, anytime, where’re you going?"

He doesn’t even miss a beat. "Considering I haven’t seen my ma since 1943, probably then."

And now you feel like an asshole.

There’s nothing you can read in Bucky’s eyes, not even a challenge. You still move, just to escape them.

"Oh, I already gave him your discount."

"Great." Your cheeks are burning. "What’re you having Barnes?"

But before he can answer your question, Sam squints. "Did your jacket just move?"

"Oh, that," Bucky says, as if he’d simply forgotten up to this point. "I found a cat."

***

v. What does it feel like?

You lift your head up, confused. It takes you a moment to return to the real world; you didn’t even realize it’s started to move again.

You like to read in the quiet of a standing universe. It’s just enough of an effort to keep your wandering thoughts to a minimum. Sometimes, though, you get too engrossed in whatever story it is you’re reading, and your grip on time slips. Like right now.

Bucky has sat down on the couch opposite the one you’re perched on, watching you with the usual scowl on his face.

"What does what feel like?" you ask.

His eyes are a particularly curious shade of blue. "Going back," he says, and there’s a tick in his jaw that makes you mark your place in the book and put it away, wrapping your arms around your legs.

Maybe it’s the fact that this is the first genuine question he’s asked you that makes you choose your words so carefully.

"You know how … when you rewind a cassette tape and it makes that whirring sound? Or, no—that feeling when you’re at the top of a rollercoaster, and you’re just about to drop?" Bucky nods. "It’s a little like that, but backwards. Like I have to trick gravity and make sense of the reversing tape at the same time."

He nods again, as if that made any sense at all. "Does it hurt?"

"Not really," you say. "It’s just weird. And hard to explain."

"Does it feel real?"

You blink. "Of course it feels real. It is real."

Apparently, that’s not the answer Bucky wanted, because he looks away, squinting against the setting sun. The snow on the window sill makes it even more blinding.

"Was it the same," he asks after a pause so long your fingers are itching to pick up your book again, "when you went back for the stones?"

Oh, you think as his cheeks turn pink under your stare. That’s what this is about.

"No," is what you settle on in the end. "It felt like something else entirely. But—" You frown slightly. "It was still real. Just a different kind of real."

Bucky huffs. "A less complicated kind, probably."

"I don’t think that’s true," you say, almost gently.

"You didn’t know him like I did."

"I never said I did." You watch his human hand shake while the other stays terribly still. "But it didn’t make sense to me then, or now, and I think if it made sense to you, you wouldn’t be talking to me right now."

"You don’t get it." It’s cold in its finality, and it makes you sick.

"Believe it or not, Barnes," you say and gather your things. "I know a thing or two about things from the past haunting you."

On your way out, you pass Alpine in the hallway, tearing her claws through a wool scarf someone must have forgotten here once. She stares at you, her head tilted, and then she hisses.

You can’t help but feel like you’re missing the point of any of this.

***

vi. How long is this going to last?

 After a while, it all boils down to this question.

After a while, you stop questioning the how, and the why, and the what’s the point of it all, because none of that matters. The loop keeps on turning.

How much longer?

Exhaustion sticks to you like blood on dry linen.

You’re the constant in the middle of this ever repeating nightmare, and there’s no end or beginning to it anymore, and no difference in it, and, worse of all, no way out. And there’s not a thing you can do about it other than wait, and train, and hope.

Trapped in stasis.

"You look like shit."

Don’t look at him. Just don’t do it.

"Can’t say that, bud."

Hold your breath, count to ten, go again. Just going through the motions, over, and over, and over again.

"You alright?"

Nope. Absolutely not. But you can’t keep explaining that.

"You look like shit."

"Language."

Bucky laughs, and damnit. This isn’t making it any easier.

So the next time, you don’t say anything, and you’re not sure if that makes it better or worse. You’re just not sure anymore.

You’ve heard guns firing and detonations going off so many times they’re starting to sound like fireworks. Almost pretty if you ignore the aftertaste of death. And you can’t.

"Rise and shine, McFly!"

You stare at your face in the mirror and you scrub the blood off your hands and trace the visible scars this thing is leaving you with. A strange, horrible habit.

Your eyes are empty as you turn off the faucet and drop your towel to the floor, because it won’t be there the next time you’re in here. It will smell like fresh laundry.

Hope is the worst feeling of all of them, you think. Worse than guilt, or pain, or whatever else you don’t give yourself the time to define.

Hope lets you think it will be August again someday, even though the past weeks don’t let that seem likely.

No.

Tomorrow won’t come, not yet. You feel it in your gut.

Today isn’t done with you.

And so you wake up again, and you wake up again, and you wake up again, and you wake with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

How much longer?

Well, you think, untangling your legs from the sheets and wiping the splatter of blood off your brow, because you can’t help it.

Well. There’s always tomorrow.

thank you for reading!! you can follow my library blog @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 💚

[lavendercitizen]

Why can't they just leave her aloneee😩

I wanna say I hope they stay away but you never know with them

the punchline goes | lee bodecker.

PAIRING: lee bodecker x reader

WARNINGS: age gap (reader is younger than lee), mentions of abortion

A/N: happy new year! hope you guys had a nice holiday period if you celebrate it. enjoy the next chapter !!

previous part / next part

Lee drove down the street, his eyes both on the road and on her. He couldn’t exactly read her, not tonight, not when she was staring at the road, gripping at the pregnancy test box enough to deform the cardboard box. In his mind, he didn’t know exactly what to think other than his mind was obviously rushing way ahead of the actual events. She could not be pregnant, heck, the amount of times he’d had hope for a kid in the beginning of his first marriage only to be disappointed after couldn’t be counted with two hands. Yet, the idea of having a kid, a baby with her just got him being a young careless man again. The idea of restoring her old place, maybe get some new fences, paint the outside and the inside. Perhaps even setting up a little nursery with some nice new stuff she’d like. Damn, he could have that life, he would love that life; yet, he didn’t know, he didn’t know how she felt or if she was even pregnant.

Keep reading

[lavendercitizen]

Oh wow Steve really did not let up, and he wants her so badly.. I love the image the ending conjured, such a great tale💘🙌🏻

Virtue

Part II

Pairing: fae!Steve Rogers x fae!reader

Warnings: soft!yandere, obsession, Stockholm syndrome, mass murder (kinda? annihilation of fair folk), failed suicide attempt (nothing descriptive), hurt/comfort.

Words: 2k.

Summary: Rumored to be the deadliest out of all fairy queens, the bearer of curses, you have been laying in your glass coffin for centuries until the knight destined to save his kind comes to your tomb. He demands justice, but not the kind you expect.

Part I

__________

Now it's you who's taken aback by his words as you watch him watching you. Slowly, you regain your vision little by little, and you see the knight has bright blue eyes, and his hair is light like ripened wheat. With his miscular figure and broad shoulders, he looks too much of a human to think he's a descendant of a fair folk, too, but you don't doubt him. A mere man wouldn't be able to find you, taken away by the Unseelie prince somewhere where you spent centuries, undoubtedly. Besides, he must have put charms on your tomb, charms the knight had to break to get in, and it surely wasn't easy. No, he's here because it's his fate, just like you. He was chosen to wake you, stop the curse from taking the lives of fae descendants who wanted to live in peace. Is it his family who suffers from your curse? His parents? His wife? His child?

Despite his kind words, he must hate you for bringing this deadly magic into the world, hurting people he loves. You smile at him, grateful he conceals his anger well, but he can see through you and your pain, you know for sure.

"I was raised with love," he starts speaking when you are silent, still. "My father was human, and my mother is a part fae, so both of them knew their children might carry this disease, but they still got married. They loved my sister and me probably more than they ever loved themselves. Even when my mother fell sick and I learnt it was me who was destined to find the Queen of Curses, it was because we were together we could still keep going. I can't imagine what it feels like growing in a place where no one at all loves you."

You make a strange sound, something that was supposed to be a laugh but turned into sigh. You wish the knight was talking about someone else, not you, but he's right. Of course, your mother loved you, maybe even as much as his mother loved him, but she's not with you, and you wish for someone else who would at least pretend to be kind to you.

Your knight does exactly that, though.

"Is it love that you want?" He asks you suddenly, and you raise your head, confused and strangely ashamed. "If the fair folk failed to give you any, would you take mine in exchange for breaking the curse?"

It sounds like a twisted proposal of marriage where the groom has to submit to the bride unless he wants her to stab him. It makes you feel miserable, it makes you feel guilty and sick and disgusted with yourself because you made someone do this for you in exchange for the lives of his loved ones. You are no villain, you thought when you marched to the Unseelie prince in hopes he would kill you in an instant, but you enjoyed the thought it was you and your hatred that wiped out your immortal enemies from the earth. You didn't think of all those people who died just because the curse carried on without your or their involvement. Gods know how many innocent lives your curse took just because they had fair folk's blood running through their veins. When you imagine your knight's mother laying in bed, knowing her days are numbered just like her children's, your face distorts in disgust.

"If it's love you want, I can give you so much until you're sick of it," the man whispers to you, and you see he's desperate, silently praying for you to accept his proposal while you sit in front of him like a queen, waiting for a better offer. "You won't be disappointed with me."

"Stop," you shake your head, wondering why your hair seems to be the same length as when you were put into coffin centuries ago. "I don't want anything in return. I will break the curse for you and other descendants of the fair folk, and that will be the end of it."

"Don't try to trick me," he cocks his head to the side, his sharp blue eyes nearly burning a hole in you. "I know it's love you long for. Why do you refuse taking what I am willing to give?"

You understand what makes him so cautious - he, undoubtedly, considers you a faerie since you grew up among them, those ancient, wicked creaturs who would lie and cheat for their own sake. It shouldn't surprise you he doesn't believe your words.

"I will give you an oath if you so desire, but I'm telling the truth. I won't take advantage of you."

"Then it's too late for that."

You want to hide your face in your palms or scream at him in frustration because you don't know how else to prove you are not the Queen of Curses he still expects you to be. You want nothing. You're an empty shell of a human girl you once were, and all you want is to crawl inside that glass coffin behind you and close the lid. What good will his sacrifice do for you? What makes him be so reckless with his own life when you offered him an oath you won't break?

You're tired, you think as you raise your head and stare at the ceiling again, exhaling loudly. You don't know what else you can do.

Before you have a chance to say a word, the knight starts speaking.

"You have been in my thoughts since the day an old crow told me of my destiny. Sometimes I couldn't sleep because I imagined myself battling with you, cutting your head off and bringing it to the fairies as a proof I've done well," he tells you, and you appreciate his honesty, knowing he's still afraid of you because of how cautiously he moves. "But then my mother told me the Queen of Fairies would charm me with just one glance at my face. It was stupid to think I will win just because I have a sword and armor. What my mother said is that I should appeal to the Queen's heart because she was greatly wounded by the man she loved."

Well, at least that part of the legend was true, you think as you listen to him, hoping he will tell you what he wants aside from forcing his sacrifice down your throat.

"She told me you longed for love so much you were ready to become curse bearer just to punish the one who refused you. In the end, why would someone as powerful as Queen end her life? She could have many other lovers. She could make her past lover suffer for his betrayal, but she preferred to die and take that lover with her because the truth pained her so much.

"Doesn't it show how great her love for him was? She could no longer live, knowing she would never be loved by the person she cherished the most. If there was anything I could do to stop the curse, it was to make her happy so that she would forget her past lover and the pain he brought her. Of course, it was what kept the curse going for so long, my mother said."

You hope you aren't crying like a pathetic child you once were. When you touch your cheek, it's dry, but the knight catches the movement of your hand, and now you are sure he knows exactly why you did it. It feels miserable.

"And so I lived, imagining an unhappy woman who wept in her coffin as she slept, neither dead nor alive, laying in her tomb as centuries passed. I thought it was her misfortune that made her cruel, and I hoped to find out how I can mend her heart. I grew up, and my compassion for her grew as well. I started seeing her - you in my dreams, and your face looked just like it does now. "

When you stare at him, you can see his expression is almost dreamy, and it makes you want to cry, but you can't. It's harder to breathe, though.

"You said you don't want to take advantage of me, but you already did when you accepted the curse. I was born because you needed me," he says, and you feel his fingertips on your skin as he touches your cheek like a lover. "I am here because we are a part of one legend, and you can't take it away from me. You can't take away my dreams of you, and the oath I gave to the world you can't take either. But you can have my love, all of it, because it's yours for the taking. Won't it be enough?"

You want to tell him this is forced love, a kind of love that isn't true, love that will poison him the moment you decide to take it, but when you look him in the eyes you know he doesn’t feel repulsed by you nor he pretends to love you out of call of duty. His feeling is true and pure, and it's a sin to doubt him or reject what he has to offer.

"I was waiting for this day my whole life," he admits with a sigh, but then you see a smile on his lips when kneels in front of you again and offers you his hand. "Please take what I give you and give me what I asked in return."

You have nothing to say as you slip your hand in his and make him sit close to you, his back against a glass coffin where you laid until he found you. When you put your head on his shoulder, you whisper your oath, releasing the curse you bore for too long, and you hear your knight breathing deeper as if somebody took their hand off his throat. You two keep sitting in the dark until you fall asleep, listening to the human heart beating in his chest, and he cradles your head in his lap. His iron armor doesn't feel as cold against your skin as you thought it would.

THE END

________

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