#I love all eras of bo

[microwavepopcorn]

[teafiend]

These scenes were so adorable and highlighted how young Guo Jing actually was. Still a teenager having fun on a swing ✨🥰 But he knows his priority ❤️‍🔥☺️🫡✨

I squee(d) so hard over these scenes. Super-adorable and wonderfully sweet✨🥰☺️

We stan a *hero* who gets his priorities right ✨🫡👏🏽

*GJ: I am just a boy-on-a-swing hoping to train to become invincible so I could win my lady love*

(Excuse the poor quality of the screenshots. Am a dinosaur with nonexistent skills)

[josephinekhawaja]

Been seeing posts around proposing Satine and Bo-Katan Kryze as respectively the Star Wars Elsa and Anna...

...given obvious visual and probably other parallels. And I do see what they see, this is the way. But just immediately hilarious to me on another level as Anna endgames with a more working-class dude with 'zero social skills', who starts off as not exactly her favourite person in the universe or at that to be stuck with. And whose dearest companion is assuredly non-human because humans are overrated as at least half the song goes (facts though, Kristoff -- where is the lie). Perfection.

[mookybear12404]

IS BO KATAN NOT EVEN GOING TO QUESTION HOW A BABY FLEW THE PLANE

[causenessus]

me INHALING 35 MM INTO MY BODY IT IS KEEPING ME ALIVE AND GOING

35MM CHAPTER TWENTY: pizza time!

track number twenty: fade into you by mazzy star

masterlist

The sun is starting to set when he knocks on the door. The blue dusk reminds him of her. Akaashi sent his psychiatrist an email about upping the dose of his anxiety medication before he left. He rocks on the back of his heels. He’s taking Kuroo’s advice. Or at least, he’s trying to. He overthought everything to death until nothing in his head even held any meaning. His nose is bruised purple, and his chest rises and falls visibly with each heavy intake of breath.

The door opens. For the split second he can see the doorknob turn, he sends a silent prayer that it’s not one of her roommates that answers and, if it is, that it’s not the scary one that slammed his fist into his face. It’s answered. She opens the door.

Her t-shirt hangs loose on her shoulders and sweatpants are low on her hips. She narrows her gaze at the sight of him and Akaashi takes that as not a good sign. And it’s not like she moves to slam the door in his face, but Akaashi doesn’t want to take the risk. He steps forward into her apartment and says. “I like you.”

She steps back, expression sort of unreadable. “What?”

“I like you,” Akaashi repeats, taking another step closer. “I like you a lot. I like everything about you. I think you’re beautiful and the way you think is beautiful. I like that you change the way I think, and I like how everything feels better when you’re around and I want to be with you all the time.”

The words seem to hit her slowly, taking a second to settle into her skin. Once they do, she backs further into her apartment. Akaashi follows, taking slow, hesitant steps, watching as she leans against her kitchen counter. “I don’t,” she starts, and then takes an heavy breath. She turns her head and looks him in the eye. “Did you mean it, when you kissed me?”

“Yes,” Akaashi breathes out. “I meant it.”

She gnaws on the inside of her cheek and looks off to the side. “I don’t like the way you played with my feelings,” she confesses, and looks down at her feet, blinking like she’s trying to force away her tears. “I don’t like the way you made me feel like I didn’t matter to you.”

Without thinking much about it at all, Akaashi takes two long strides to close the gap between them. His arms go around her shoulders, and he pulls her into his chest. “I’m sorry. I was overthinking and I know I made everything worse. But you matter to me. You matter to me so much that I’m going to do all the things I’ve been too afraid to do.” And Akaashi can’t help himself. He kisses the top of her head and tightens his hold on her. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

She tilts her head back to look up at him. Her eyes are wet and watering. She sniffs. “Well, my roommate broke your nose. So, I guess that kinda makes up for it.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Does it look that bad?”

“Nah,” she shakes her head. “I think you look handsome.”

Red tinges his cheeks. Akaashi can feel it as it spreads. And he thinks that he should come up with some sort of flirtatious quip in response, but he’s looking into her eyes and he feels lost. He doesn’t have a grip on any of his conscious thoughts. The only thing that he can really hold onto is that he thinks he really might be in love with her.

So Akaashi leans down and uses the tip of his nose to nudge her head up slightly, and he kisses her. Again.

It’s different now. There’s a different sort of charge to it. Akaashi feels this persistent sort of buzz under his skin as he leans in deeper to her. He kisses her there, in the middle of her kitchen, with no regard to the world around him. It’s like it doesn’t exist. It’s just her and her body heat and the way she is entangled with him.

And his self-control is already hanging on by a thread, so when she drags her hand up his neck and tangles it in the roots of his hair, he snaps. His hands wrap around the bottom of her thighs, and in one swift movement, he’s lifted her onto the countertop, giving him more access to her, in her entirety.

Akaashi’s convinced, then. He’s in love. Pathetically so. He can’t decide if he should take the time to tell her or not. The decision is made for him.

“Surprise! It’s pizza time! Pizza-oh my god.”

They pull apart from each other with a gasp. Akaashi launches himself to the other side of the room. Bokuto Koutarou stands in the doorway of her apartment, mouth slightly agape, a box of pizza in one hand. He stares blankly at the scene before him.

She, still seated on the top of the counter, reaches for the first thing she can get her hands on and flings it directly at her brother’s face. It’s a dish rag. “Oh my god, get out.”

Bokuto doesn’t even flinch as the dish rag hits his face and falls directly onto the pizza box. Akaashi holds his breath. “Fine. I seem to have lost my appetite, anyways. Wonder why.”

He leaves, then. Walking backwards out the front door. He takes the dish rag with him. Akaashi blinks.

->fun facts!

at first when bokuto asked akaashi not to date yn he was really just was joking but then after it kept getting brought up he started to get suspicious; he thought if he kept saying 'oh MAN akaashi would DEFINITELY for sure tell me!' it would make him tell him

but it did not even a little so now bokuto actually kind of feels bad that he made him feel more anxious about the whole thing

bokuto 1000% killed the mood when he showed up but yn and akaashi retreated to her room and talked a lot about their feelings for each other and shared maybe more than one little kiss and decided an exclusive status would work best for them

akaashi is one text away from throttling atsumu his flirting with yn always got under his skin but now he has no reason to hide his budding annoyance

hinata won the bet

one more chapter left!

once more i am NOT proofreading

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[aquaticmercy]

Beautiful Mess

Summary : Bucky tries to cook you a food you’ve been craving. It goes wrong, but it also goes right.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her) 

Warnings : food, mild cursing? and lots and lots of fluff! 

Requested by : anon 

Word count : 1.5k

Note : It’s my first fic in 4 years and boy I forgot how good it felt writing for fun. Thank you to the anon who requested this! (I said it would be >1k word blurb but I got over the limit and I hope you don’t mind!) Enjoy!

Requests are open!

“Shut up,” Bucky grumbled, aggressively poking at the smoke alarm with the end of his rifle case. He stretched on his toes, metal arm whirring as he tried to reach the obnoxiously tall ceiling. 

‘Oh this is wonderful,’ you had been giddy with joy when the two of you viewed this apartment, ‘I love the high ceilings, don't you, Buck?’

He had chuckled and agreed that day. For all he cared, the ceiling could be as high as the atmosphere allowed if it meant it made you happy. But now he was thinking maybe your next place should have, at the very least, a reachable ceiling on his tip toes. 

The shrill beeping had been going on for what felt like an eternity. Bucky Barnes has never been known for his patience, and now it was wearing dangerously thin.

Clearly, he hadn't thought any of his actions through. The rifle case was too flimsy, and it bent under the pressure of each jab. If the alarm didn’t stop soon, it wouldn’t just be his sanity at stake— the neighbours would probably come knocking on the door asking if they needed to evacuate.

"Great idea, Barnes. Brilliant," he muttered to himself, throwing a desperate scan around the room. His eyes landed on the bo staff you kept in the corner— a weapon from your training collection. 

“Perfect,” he said to himself, practically lunging for it. Surely, you wouldn’t mind him using it just this once. It was just a stick, right?

Grabbing the staff, he reached up again, tapping the alarm with its tip. His strength— which usually worked in his favour— became his single greatest enemy. With a loud snap, the white disk detached completely, wires dangling from the ceiling as the alarm finally went silent. A part of him took in the quiet bliss for a moment before realising the repercussions. He’d have to contact the building super, then pay the fees, and since he’s off for a mission in a couple of days, he had unintentionally given you a bit more life admin work around the house.

He cursed under his breath, staring at the detached alarm hanging limply in his hand.

He tossed it into the kitchen trash bin, as if hiding it there might make the problem disappear.  For a moment Bucky just stood there, staring at the mess around him, trying to make sense of how things had spiraled out of control.

He ran a hand through his brown thick locks, ones you had asked him to grow out again. He sighed. How did it go so wrong?

All he wanted was to do something nice for you. Just one thing. You’d been so good to him— so patient, especially after he'd returned from weeks of missions worn down and, admittedly, a bit grumpy. You greeted him with nothing but warmth, even though you were probably as tired as he was.

And then there was the food. Bucky still wasn’t sure why he'd been craving bland, 1940s-era meals, the kind no modern person could possibly enjoy, but you indulged him anyway. When he’d mentioned how much he missed a particular meatloaf recipe, you made it for him. He could tell from the look on your face that you were struggling not to spit every bite out, but you powered through for his sake. And when he’d told you about his mom’s molasses cookies, you had taken the time to bake a jar that tasted just like the ones from his childhood.

It was perfect. You were perfect.

So why couldn’t he get this right?

You'd been talking about focaccia earlier this week, your eyes lit up in childlike wonder as you told him about how you used to experiment with different toppings. He’d taken a mental note of that moment, thinking he could surprise you by making some himself.

He glanced around the kitchen. Flour dusted on nearly every surface, olive oil splattered on the counter, and a sad, burnt dough resting on the baking tray. 

Bucky sighed, leaning back against the counter, staring at the mess with a mixture of frustration and helplessness.

You’d probably laugh at this, he thought as a self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He could already hear your teasing voice, reminding him that not everything had to be perfect.

But still, he wanted to get it right. 

He glanced at the clock. You’d be home soon. He had maybe thirty minutes to try and salvage this— or at least clean up the evidence before you walked through the door. 

Priorities, he thought.

He cracked his knuckles, pouring the excess dough to a new baking tray. He thanked whatever gods still existed that he had accidentally made way too much dough. Not even waiting for it to rise, he shoved it in the oven and reshaped it into something that didn’t look like a science experiment gone wrong.

“Okay,” he pressed a palm to his forehead as if that would magically clear his mind. “Focus.”

He realised the oven was too hot, and that was probably why it burnt. 

Very smart, Barnes, he thought to himself, about time you used basic logic.

As he fumbled with the oven dials, he heard the familiar sound of your keys jingling at the front door. His heart sank. Shit. She’s home early.

Frantically, Bucky darted toward the flour-covered countertops, grabbing a towel to wipe down the mess. But there was no saving kitchen wreck—not in under thirty seconds, anyway. 

You stepped through the door, humming softly to yourself as you dropped your heavy bag with a thud. You stretched your shoulders, straining a little from the weight. Tossing the keys to the side, you noticed how uncharacteristically quiet it is in your home.

As you moved deeper into the apartment, you saw why.

It was your boyfriend, standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, holding a flour and oil-coated dish towel like a deer caught in headlights.

The corners of your mouth lifted. “What on earth?”

“I can explain,” a red plum blush coloured his cheeks, raising his hands in defense. You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to the crime scene.

“Wait…” your eyes widened, “are you trying to make focaccia?” 

“Yeah,” he admitted sheepishly. “I thought I could surprise you with it, since you’d been talking about how much you love it. But, uh…” He motioned to the oven. “It’s not exactly turning out the way I planned.”

You let out a soft laugh, one that melted Bucky's heart, that made his chest thrum with joy. You took the towel from his hand, squirming then dropping it when you touched the part of the fabric that was very sticky with congealed liquid, clearly a mix of olive oil and flour. “I can see that,” you teased, quickly wiping your hand as you bent down to be eye-level with the dough. “What is this? An attempt at modern art?”

Bucky groaned, covering his face with his hands. You looked around the room, seeing your bo staff on the floor, and his (hopefully unloaded) rifle by the dishwasher. “Did you shoot it?” you joked.

“No.”

“Did you hit it with my stick?”

“It’s a disaster,” he complained, exasperated.

You took a deep breath and then giggled, your shoulders shaking as you leaned against his shoulder for support.

“I tried, okay?” he grumbled, part mortified, part relieved, and fully, thoroughly, embarrassed. Still, he could feel his heart flutter as he watched you laugh.

You cupped his cheeks affectionately. “I can’t believe you went through all this trouble just to make me bread.”

He shrugged, his expression softening as he looked down at you. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. You’ve been so good to me. I thought I could, I don’t know… return the favor.”

Your heart melted at his words. You didn't care about the focaccia, or the mess in the kitchen. It was about the fact that Bucky had gone out of his way to try and do something sweet for you— even if it clearly went south.

“Bucky,” you said softly, standing on your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I love that you tried.”

He sighed in relief, wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you into his warm chest. “I just didn’t want to screw it up.”

“You didn’t,” you reassured, resting your head against his shoulder. “I didn’t even know you knew what focaccia was,” you teased.

He chuckled, burying his face in your hair. “I’m still not sure I do.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him “Tell you what, I’ll make you an offer. I’ll show you how to make focaccia, and we’ll order takeout in the meantime.”

Bucky’s smile widened, as he peppered kisses on your face, overwhelming you with as much love as he could possibly give, “That sounds perfect.”

You threw him a clean kitchen towel once you were able to escape his affectionate attack, not that you wanted to. “Now help me clean up, Buck.”

He grabbed the towel and started in the corner as you started chucking empty olive oil bottles into the trash bin.

Wait, trash bin-

“What the hell is the fire alarm doing in the trash, Barnes?” 

Bucky froze, turning to you with wide eyes. “I can explain.”

You tried to suppress a laughter, piecing together the clues, “Did you break it?”

He raised his hands in defense. “It was beeping, and I didn’t mean to rip it out of the ceiling…”

“You tried to kill it with my staff, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

You smiled. Oh, what a beautiful mess you had found yourself in.

-end

[onlyangel4]

Ooo what about Got Me Started by Troye sivan with Charles??

got me started. cl16. writen + smau.

charles leclerc x model!reader

you thought attending the eras tour would be the most exciting part of the night. you never imagined you would meet the man of your dreams while there

author's note: guys this might be one of my favourite things i have ever written.

warnings: cursing.

y/ninsta posted a story

written: hanging with bestie begging her to tell me what surprise songs she is gonna play tonight

y/ninsta

liked by taylorswift, maisiepeters, sabrinacarpenter and 1,002,283

y/ninsta: gold rush

view all 14,852 comments

taylorswift: is this your hundredth attempt to convince me to play gold rush tonight

y/ninsta: yes, yes it is

user1: y/n is so real for the gold rush love

user2: come on taylor listen to your friend

sabrinacarpenter: pretty girl

y/ninsta: means a lot coming from the prettiest girl

celebsaterastour posted two stories

story one written: model y/n y/ln arriving to the stadium in milan in her gold rush inspired outfit

story two written: f1 driver charles leclerc spotted in the vip tent ahead of paramore's opening set

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"just follow me down here y/n", a security guard spoke trying to navigate you through the see of fans that swarmed you as soon as you got into the stadium. security had been awaiting your arrival but your driver had accidentally dropped you off at the general admission entrance and that meant the second fans saw you leaving your car you were swarmed by fans, they had good intentions but they also made it so you could not get to where you needed to go. so in a panic you had called over one of the stadium security guards and he managed to get through to taylor's security, the people that had been waiting for you to arrive. it was all a little bit of a mess but the big burly man in front of you effortlessly made the crowd part allowing you down onto the floor of the stadium. "taylor made a note to put you in the left vip tent, she said there ws someone there that she wanted you to meet", he spoke and you quirked an eyebrow. what was your best friend planning?. you just nodded your head with a smile and soon enough you were there in the tent, protected from the fans.

"thank god for that", you spoke as you picked up a bottle of water that had been set on the side. "are you alright?", a masculine voice spoke from your side and you looked up to be met with a man that you had never met before but you gave him a smile, "i'm okay there was a little bit of a mix up when getting into the stadium, so fans came running, for a moment there i thought i was going to get trampled", you ranted to this stranger before shaking your head, "sorry you probably don't want to listen to me yap on"

"on the contrary i quite like a yapper", he spoke and you laughed, finding this man's charm rather endearing. "i'm charles by the way", he introduced himself, "i'm y/n"

"so y/n what are you doing in milan? you don't sound like you are from around here"

"very perceptive", you teased, "i'm a model i kind of live whereever the jobs are but i have been working on a promotional campaign here. taylor is a very close friend of mine and i was gutted that i was not in the states when she was there so she arranged for me to come here", you explained and he listened, that was nice.

"i understand, i'm an f1 driver so i am all over the place most of the time, i usually miss out on big events like this and end up with fomo so i felt lucky that this show is on my week off", he spoke.

"well i hope you enjoy the show, taylor is an insane performer, she doesn't half know how to put on a show"

and with that the eras tour intro began to play signifying that your best friend was about to come on stage, you cheered for her, showing the man next to you that you truly were taylor's number one fan. the first few songs of the set flew by with you smiling from ear to ear the entire time. when lover began to play your body began to sway side to side in time with the music and charles found his body doing the same next to yours. charles would not call himself a massive taylor swift fan but he had heard that she put on a brilliant show and that was why he had arranged to attend the concert. but right now stealing glances at your happy swaying form next to him made him very grateful that he had come to the concert.

during the fearless section of the show the endorphins got to your brain and any ounce of shyness left your body so you turned to charles and began singing the lyrics with him bouncing a little on your heels just having the best time. charles even took your hands during love story just having the most fun ever. your happiness truly was infectious, he did not care that their were thoursands of people with cell phones surrounding the pair of you. honestly he hoped some of them were filming so he could have videos of this night forever.

as the concert went through you spent time just dancing and singing with charles but when taylor started singing delicate, it became apparent that there was tension their between you both, charles had moved to stand behind you and you leant you body back against his, your head resting against his stong chest, "is this okay?", he asked as his hands moved torest around your waist

"yes", you exhaled softly, you were still singing the songs but you definetly got a few lyrics wrong thanks to the intoxicating presence of the man behind you. if you were paying attention you would have noticed the way taylor seemed to be singing directly in the direction of the vip tent that you were in, her blue eyes watching you and charles a smug grin on her lips. but you did not notice that you were too busy trying to not get caught up in this moment you were sharing with a stranger.

when delicate finished charles moved back to your side rather than beside you, you grabbed a few drinks from the cooler that was in the vip tent asking if you wnated anything and you accepted one of the canned cocktails that you had asked taylor to get you and charles had a beer.

you and charles remained close for the rest of the show, gentle touches between both of you, charles gently moving your hair out of your face or resting an arm around your shoulders. it was nice, yes you knew nothing about this man but it just felt right.

when taylor got to the surprise song section of the concert you turned to charles, "I am going to kill her if she doesn't play my song" and that made charles laugh

"what is your song?", he asked

"oh you will know if she plays it"

and he knew straight away as taylor began to introduce the song.

"so many of you know that i do take requests for the surprise song section and well there is one person here who has gone above and beyond to request this song. this past week she has text me every single day about this one song. she even wore an outfit inspired by this song. safe to say this y/n y/ln's favourite song", taylor spoke and the fans that knew you cheered knowing exactly what taylor was about to sing and you were beaming, you pulled your phone out to film it but charles turned to you, "you enjoy this, i will film it", he spoke and and you handed him your phone. he filmed the song even getting some footage of you singing your heart out. once the song was done you smiled taking your phone back from charles kissing his cheek thank you.

as taylor finished singing karma you turned to charles, "are you going to the after party?", you questioned.

"i haven't been told about an after party", he spoke, obviously not wanting to leave your side but not wanting to go to a party that he had not been invited to.

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erastourupdates posted a story

written: charles leclerc and y/n y/ln were photographed arriving at a club in milan where taylor is holding her post show after party

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once inside of the club your eyes found taylor quickly, she was stood with travis smiling ear to ear at the sight of you and charles holding hands. you ran over to her pulling her into a hug, "you are insane", you laughed softly. charles had left you alone and headed to the bar to grab you both drinks.

"he is something else", you confided in your best friend, "we just have this chemistry, i can't even describe it"

"i watched you two during gold rush, he looked at you like a man stunned", taylor spoke and you blushed softly.

"i know i told you not to meddle in my love life but you cooked here", you spoke making her laugh out loud just as charles got to your side, "i thought you might like this, it is like those cans you were drinking earlier"

"thank you charles", you spoke taking it from him taking a sip, "shit this is good", you smiled. taylor then took travis' hand and pulled him onto the dance floor and charles gave you a questioning look making you giggle, "is this you asking me to dance". he didn't answer instead he took your free hand and pulled you onto the dancefloor finding a space in between all the moving bodies. you both still had drinks inyour hands but you made it work, your body effortlessly moving against his in time with the music playing on the speakers. charles finished his beer and set the cup down and you did the same with yours. this allowed you both to get as close to each other as you wanted.

charles rested his hands on your hips his eyes looking down at you, "pretty girl", he whispered softly and your eyes looked up at him, "can i kiss you?", he questioned and you wordlessly nodded. his lips moved down to meet yours in a sensual kiss and the rest of the room melted away around you. his hand travelled down to the small of your back pulling you against him.

"fuck", you whispered once you pulled away making him chuckle.

"y/n i think we should get out of here"

"you are not getting lucky on the first night" you warned playfully

"i know but i want to actually get to know you, i want to actually spend time with you and i don't think we can do that in this club, let me take you back to my hotel room, no funny business"

charles kept to his promise. you guys went straight back to his hotel and you just spoke for hours before falling asleep cuddled up to one another. and that is what started a relationship with the love of your life.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

y/ninsta

liked by taylorswift, charlesleclerc, iamrebeccad and 1,248,734

tagged: charlesleclerc

y/ninsta: tbt to the very first night

view all 56,873 comments

user3: i still can't believe taylor swift is the one that introduced charles and y/n

charlesleclerc: the best night of my life

y/ninsta: i love you so much

taylorswift: i knew you guys would get on, i didn't know you would get on this week

y/ninsta: well it has been six months and he isn't sick of me yet so you did pretty well

iamrebeccad: i am so grateful for miss swift because she is the reason i met you

y/ninsta: aw i love you becca

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all that matters

a Lost/Found story

Wanda Maximoff x Stark!Reader

You had a rough 48 hours. You lost the love of your life, Wanda Maximoff, at the hands of Kang, got pruned by the TVA, woke up in a lost place between space and time called the Void, found a resistance in said Void, got reunited with your little witch, and now you find yourselves in the presence of one Wade Wilson and James ‘Logan’ Howlett - the eponymous Deadpool and Wolverine.

And sadly the Merc with the Mouth wouldn’t shut up. You found yourself sitting in the makeshift resistance base with Wanda sitting snuggly in your lap. The moment would be great if only Wade would stop talking.

“I’m saying it would be great! Huge slow mo fights! Who cares if you live or die!” He tried to pitch it to the rest of the team.

“You want us to go back there and kick Cassandra Nova’s ass?” Johnny Storm asked with a chuckle.

“It’s suicide,” Blade spoke up.

“Aintnowaythatwomangonnagodowneasy” Gambit chimed in.

You looked to Wanda, she looked to you. “We’re in” you state.

“Really?” Wade asked with a shocked expression

“Yes” Wanda states while caressing your face. “We’re Avengers, we keep fighting no matter what”

“I do what she does just a little bit slower” you admit with a smirk. “My armor is just the boots and gauntlets but they work”

“An ending” Elektra says.

“Legacy” Blade responds with a smile.

“I was born ready” Gambit states as he flips a card of his.

“Let’s f—king go” Laura smirks

“Let’s f—king go!!” Wade exclaims.

The night came fast. The entire resistance was readying themselves. Gambit was readying his bo staff and deck of cards. Elektra grabbed her sai blades. Blade readied himself with his entire armory. Johnny was looking over a photo of his old team - the Fantastic Four. Wade was, well being Wade. Logan was lost in a drunken stupor out by a campfire. Laura went out to go talk with him.

And that brings it to you and Wanda. You found a wrecked 70s era Sentinel out behind the resistance base, a few modifications and it would be ready for combat. Wanda was in deep meditation, trying to focus her powers. But she couldn’t focus. Her mind was on you.

Wanda crept into the makeshift lab you made.

“You know I can sense you right?” you say with a smirk.

“you cannot” she chuckles.

“I know. I just wanted to see if you’d fall for it” you finished up on the broken Sentinel. “I never thought I’d see you again, Wanda”

“I never thought I’d see you” she says, tears forming in her eyes. “Losing you to Kang was the worst feeling in the entire multiverse. H-How do I know you’re my (Y/N)? Really mine.”

You set down your tools and walk towards her, you pull her to you by her hips, just like how she always liked it. She gasps. With your other hand, you caress her face, your thumb moving across her cheek. She hummed in delight.

“I love you in every universe” you whisper in her ear, “but I bet not every Wanda would react that way”

“And not every (Y/N) would know what makes me feel the way you do” she responds with a teary smile.

“I lost you once. Never again, my little witch”

“My detka!” Wanda cries before hugging you tight. You were hers.

You just hug her tight, not wanting to let go. You could spend an eternity in her arms and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“Will you just hold me tonight?” She asks softly.

“Of course”

You guide her to a little military cot and lay down. Wanda just nuzzles into your arms, a perfect fit.

Tomorrow has its own worries and battles. Tomorrow you and Wanda would be battling Cassandra Nova. Tomorrow you would be finding out if you and your witch would get home or not.

But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was tonight. For tonight, you had Wanda back in your arms. You had your Scarlet Witch back.

Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @deafeningsharkslimeempath @scarletquake-n7 @ma1egamer @russianredassassin @family-house-of-m

[sorrowfulmuse]

Would you write a headcanon or even a blurb on mk1 Liu Kang having a crush on reader or falling in love with reader? I need more content with him so badd 😭 Please and thank you love ❤️

♡ headcanon :: how liu kang fell in love with gn!reader and their traits

mentions/warnings: none! just stupid writing errors (will be edited later)

babe pls i've been WAITING for someone to request him!! sorry for any typos or anything, i'm waiting on my laptop for the first time since my phone sucks with having music in the background while i write on here but here you go! hope you enjoy!! MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN YALL! & pls reblog thank you! ☺️💓

liu kang would be conflicted in my opinion, its a new world.. a new era and he is a god compare to you being in his earth realm defense, but nonetheless it did not wary the feelings he had for you.

what was the traits that he favored from you? well, you did easily best kung lao in one of his bets! (lowkey so did the rest favored you cause it shut up kung lao for a bit!)

but mainly, you were ambitious for earth realm's victory when titan!shang tsung had declared war on this timeline.

you had confidence in him despite being told your past lives in different timelines from geras, he had asked why and was met with a answer that tugged at heart in the most blossoming way. "the fates will always find a way and i'm most thankful for this one as i get to be by your side."

was this a confession reader??? 🤓

you would laugh at his jokes even though no one else would get them, (you didn't really find his jokes humorous but you adored enough him enough to put up with it.) he still appreciated it, even if it was the smallest thing from you

in trainings, missions and in other assortments.. being diligent was your main priority. making sure you and your comrades made it back all in one piece, sometimes plans weren't always followed through but you were clever enough to have a backup plan to ensure success.

liu kang would dote on you when both of you are alone, he'll compliment the way you did your hair, how your voice sounded when you sung (lets pretend you know how to sing LOL) this man was down bad i tell ya!!

at madam bo's everything you ate/drink was paid by him, he even would ask madam bo to make you off menu dinings

this made everyone jealous because you were receiving royal treatment on which you would tease them for when his back was turned

"have you tried this tea before? it helps to smooth your throat if you have a cold" "eat this dish, the flavors of the soup can help with the sickness you're going through."

YES liu kang would be that type of person to take care of you even if you show the rarest signs of sickness!

but how did he meet you in this new era? you were trained in combat, martial arts and amongst other things which made you the second best behind raiden to being earth realms champion

although not being chosen not to represent in the tournament, you exceeded his expectations and was humbled enough to not let your pride get the best of you.

to end this, liu kang was in love with you simply because you believed in his vision and strength all those eras ago. you were you, you were his.. in every lifetime.

[ghosts-cant-sleep]

you told me love is to pray (i'm sorry, i dont pray that way)

russell adler x male! reader warnings: average mlm soviet era situationship, a wittle sexual but not straight smut, age gap, toxic yaoi, not proof read lolz notes: posted in honor of bo6 coming out!!! i love the bo series sosososo much and cw was def a favorite. lowkey rlly hoping this years cod will have the same effects as mw22 because jesus christ the men in the black ops series r SO fine and it's criminal that they dont get the attention they deserve. give me bo requests rn. like rn.

fem dni

CIA SAFEHOUSE E9, "DIE LANDEBAHN"

[Name][L.Name], CIA

52.6200 N. 13.4050 E. West Berlin

March 8th, 1981

The dank musk of the safehouse had long since grown stuffy and suffocating, a damp draft they could never quite figure out. The stench of tobacco was seldom better, but it was everywhere, clinging to the walls.

Adler sat at the edge of his thin, stiff matress. The sheets pulled from the corners and tangled around him, tugged over his lap in an attempt to preserve whatever dignity he thought he still had.

He keeps his elder on his knees and his eyes glued to the floor, concrete cold bent his bare feet. He tried to ignore the sleeping body behind him. A sleeping body who had no place with him, yet there he was all the same. He wasn't sure what to do with all this.

It was hardly four in the morning, but Adler had long since given up his fight for rest. His hands instead found his zippo, the weight in his hand, an old, comforting friend. He fiddles with the cap, calloused thumb rubbing against the cold metal surface, flicking the cap up, then shutting it with a 'click.'

Christ, how far he's fallen. Where did his resolve go, his self-control, his dignity? How had he made himself so easy to beckon into the hands of another man, nearly half his age, no less. He was better than this. He had to be.

He'd liked to believe his hands only ever yearned for [Name]'s skin when his brain was at its slowest, in the midst of a drunken stupor, but he'd be lying through his teeth. Even now, he fights to keep his gaze off of him, imagining how [Name]'s body looks stretched across the matress, sheets thrown askew over his bare body, the scars carved into his skin that seemed to age him decades.

With a tired sigh, Adler's hands find his coat, thrown haphazardly on the nightstand. He fiddles with the fabric, leather squeaking and rustling as his fingers search through pockets, plucking out a pack of cigarettes.

The cardboard box is wrinkled and hardly intact, falling apart in his hands. There's only a couple left, and the thought makes him nervous.

He slides one one out, and not a moment later, it's held between his lips, pack tossed aside, and his lighters flame igniting the end. The stench of smoke is quickly to fill the room, pungent. The immediate buzz brings a soothing lul to his mind, quieting his worries.

He knows the relief is temporary, it always is, but the moment he lets himself pretend he doesn't realize.

Behind him, [Name] stirs awake, mused up by the smell of tobacco. The matress shifts with his weight, the springs screach, the blankets pull.

Adler sneaks a glance over his shoulderx watching as the young man behind him turns to lay in his back inside, eyes still screwed shut. He stretches out like a cat, back arching against the matress, sheets bending within the dips of his legs as they bustle beneath the bedding. His skin is littered with evidence of Adler.

Who, in turn, is quick to avert his eyes back to the cigarette burning away in his fingers, pinched almost too tightly between his thumb and index. With a shakey hand, he lifts it back to his mouth, taking a greedy huff.

[Name]'s eyes blink in the darkness that still shrouds the room, pale moonlight filtering in through the dirtied windows, and the slight glow from Adler's cigarette.

His gaze finds purchase on Adler's back. Even in the fuzzy, dim light, he still feels like he can make out every detail. He traces up the length of his spine, brain filling in where every freckle, mole, and scar would lay. He doesn't miss how the muscles of his back roll under the weight of his eyes.

"It's rude to stare," Adler huffs out, voice abrupt and bearish as he cuts through the stillness. Smoke rolls off his tounge with every breath, disapating into the room.

"What's rude is not offering a hit," [Name] retorts, unbothered by the calloused tone of Adler's voice. He was always like this the morning after, the asshole. [Name] grown used to it quickly-- he always came back around.

The scratchy material of the matress bends under his weight as he moves to his knees, settling behind Adler. He leans in close, letting the warmth of Adler's back soothe the cold skin of his chest, pressing their bodies close.

Despite whatever naivety Adler saw in [Name], he wasn't some idiot kid. Adler was far from a good, nobel man, and anyone with half a functioning brain could see that clear as day. He saw that dark charm, that relentless ambitious, with what ease it took for his words to bend the minds of the people around him-- and maybe he's fooled himself into thinking he's ammune to it.

He wished Adler could make up his mind. There was a constant push and pull, hot and cold, soft and doting one second, then cold and dry the next. It was tiresome. He was sure Adler felt... troubled in regards to the situation they'd gotten themselves wrapped up in.

What he wasn't sure about was exactly how he fared in Adler's thoughts, what the man makes of him. Was he an asset, a tool, a teammate, a liability, a lover, something better, something worse?

There was a certainty in the back of his mind that he tried to ignore. If it came down to it, him or Adler, he doesn't think it'd take much for Adler to make that decision.

There wasn't a single word out of Adler's mouth he could trust wholeheartedly. Nonsense stories about whatever scar [Name] had proded at, every word of support, every promise, every notion of praise muttered against [Name]'s sweat soaked skin.

All the same, [Name] let's his chin rest against the junction of Adler's neck and shoulder, leaning his weight onto the older man. With a sluggish groan, his arms, still heavy with sleep, wrap around Adler's torso.

"You're a fiend," Adler huffs, sneaking a sidelong glance at the toung man drapped against him, only able to make out the blured lines of his hair from the corner of his eye. "I cut the checks around here-- I know you make enough to quit bumming off me."

All the same, he steals a quick breath before raising the cigarette up to [Name]'s lips. He feels the warmth of his breath and can imagine with ease the way his lips part just to wrap around the filter.

He takes a long, slow hit, the burning paper sizzling, burning brighter. He lets the toxicity fill his mouth, burn his throat, flood into his lungs, warm his blood. He can't help but smile around the butt.

He takes a moment to savor the flavor before letting the smoke drift from his lips, eyeing the ribbons, noting the shape it takes.

"They taste better from your packs."

"Bastard."

"Hm." He sounds far too pleased with himself.

A moment of affection breaches past Adler's will. His free hand finds a place on [Name]'s own, resting gently, pliant fingers wrapping loosely around him. His thumb finds the curve of his wrist, rubbing against the thin skin shrouding the bone.

The small gesture pulls a soft sigh from [Name]. He focuses on the feeling, letting it silent the rampant hum of his thoughts.

He leans his head against Adler's, eyelids relenting to the heft that pulled them close. He relaxes into whatever faux comfort Adler provides. It was a tricky little thing to resist, giving into this simple desire, the brief beats of calm. What was the harm in playing pretend a little while longer? They were both good at it.

"You're cold," Adler complains, despite how he leans back into [Name]'s skin, even if just slightly. Regardless, he makes half an effort to rid [Name] off his shoulders.

"It's not me, it's the room," [Name] rebuttals back with a defensive scoff, sinking deeper into the heat of Adler's body, feeling the scratch of his stubble against his cheek. He speaks low, "You're just really warm," he mutters, hot breath hitting Adler's skin.

His hands spread flat against Adler's skin, fingers sprawled, greedy for more purchase on his flesh. One hand follows the line between his abs up towards the dip in his chest, touch firm, and certain. The other is lighter, softer, teasing the nails of his fingers trace instable patterns between Adler's hipbones, brushing against the hem of the sheet.

Adler nearly allows himself to once again fall back into [Name]'s hands, giving into his touch. The smooth skin of the young man's hands gliding over the bumbs and ridges of scars carved into his skin.

But, just as he'd be trained to, he pushes through the temptation, the desire, the buzz [Name] brought to the pit in his lower stomach.

His hold on [Name]'s wrist turns firm and almost cruel, pulling a slight hiss from the youger man, hand stilling against Adler's body.

He pulls out of Adler's constraint, leaning back away from him, the air around them suddenly feeling much too frigid.

Adler finally spares a glance over his shoulder, staring straight on into [Name], breath mingling, noses brushing together.

Adler looks older than he is. The crows feet at the outer corners of his eyes are deep and only seem wose at this early of an hour. A scowl personality ghosts his features, lips pursed, a perpetual frown even when all seems good. His eyes are a hollow blue as they bore back into [Name]. They narrow just a twitch-- observing, scrutinizing.

The gaze Adler meets is like a cruel parody of his own. His gaze is tight and narrowed, but still too soft. Boyish. All that ages him are his eyes-- the dark bags heavy beneath them, and although his wide-eyed look may be green and childish, that idleness is unmistakably one in the same with his own.

Turning away, Adler shrugs him off his shoulders-- with less laze this time.

"We're both up," he states, clearing his throat as he lets his cigarette rest on the overflowing ashtray sitting on the bedside table. He bends over, bed creaking, sorting his own clothes from [Name]'s. "Might as well get a headstart."

[Name] sits back, arms fully leaving their place around Adler, resting them in his own lap. His hands come together, fingertips tobacco stained, much like Adler's own. He fiddles with his fingers, pressing one nail into the other, noting how it feels when it bends.

He watches with a vague, tired interest as Adler stands from the bed, tugging on his clothes. The sound of rustling fabric, a few popping joints, and the jingle of his belt is what fills the silence before [Name]'s voice takes its place.

"Work can wait for a few more hours, can't it?" His head cranes up, tilting to the side, lips parted and dry. "It's hardly past four."

The request wasn't even inherently lewd. He'd be lying if he said he wouldn't take whatever Adler gave him, but for once, he admitted to himself that he wasn't hoping for sex. There was a tenderness he searched for-- a glowing warmth as opposed to raging heat. Innocent touch without the assumed promise of something more.

Adler's brows pinch together, crows feet further crinkling as he looks back towards [Name]. He regards him with a strange look of disinterest-- one of the many faces of Adler that left [Name]'s mind running itself in circles all day long.

He wishes his could crack open Adler's head, look around inside, poke and prod. He imagines seeing tangible thoughts sliding along the ridges of his brain, telling him what Adler's thinking how he feels, what makes him happy, sad, angry.

Oblivious to the thoughts in [Name]'s head, Adler approaches the edge of the bed, smoothing out the wrinkes in his shirt. His lips press into a pensive purse as his knees reach the edge of the bed.

After a beat, he raises his hand to curn around the contors of [Name]'s jaw, giving it a tentative squeeze. The gesture lays halfway between affection and mocking, unsure of where it leans.

Adler mouth falls open, then closes once more. A soft sigh is shared between the too men.

Adler allows himself just a beat to feel the weight of the younger man's jaw resting in his palm. His fingers press into the flesh of his cheeks, letting it dip under the pressure of his firm touch.

Just as quickly, his hand falls back towards his side. Finally, he offers his version of an answer;

Then, just as quickly, his hand falls, then he finally answers.

"Get dressed. We've got a job to do."

[lowkeyrobin]

Heyy :) Can you please write headcanons of dating quackity, but in his earlier eras? (like 2019-21 maybe) ❤

ooooo yes of course!!! ; fun fact I've been watching him since 2018 or so (I don't mean this in a "Oh I'm cooler than you way) ; thank you for the request!! this was fun as hell ; I tried to kinda do it in a chronological order but yeah, I did like stuff and then more details of relationship if that makes sense yk???

QUACKITY ; 2019-2021 era

warnings ; language, talk of drugs, jokes about sex

genre ; fluff

word count ; 858

masterlist

Raiding Club Penguin with him and Axel was a core memory for you. It was the first true time, however cringe it sounds, that you saw Alex as your best friend.

he'd always try to make you laugh, especially on stream

such a little tease

back in the olden days, we had those Discord server 'wtf is that food' videos

you guys rank some of them and how likely you'd eat them

also ranking Discord memes

so many of them were dumb shit or weird shipart from like 2015 deviantart LMFAO

"guys I know me and y/n are dating but that doesn't mean compare us to Shrek couples!"

"I thought Thanos was your true love?"

"He-He is! Oh my God, stop being so desperate, y/n. ugh"

once he got invited to the Dream SMP, you were all ears and proudly taught him how to play Minecraft

you made his alt skin with the tuxedo, which he didn't wear often, but used in lore some time later

youd often help him with lore ideas

he also got you invited into the SMP where he introduced you to some of his new friends

you knew schlatt and some others, but most of these people were new and it was nice meeting all of them

the fiances are established and then you and quackity are already a think and you also like karl, which creates a weird love rectangle with an open end because you and sapnap are sharing the other two 💀

lore goes fuckin crazy with that

while Karl's off making Kinoko Kingdom and Quackity's running Las Nevadas, you're building El Tropicana, off in the far away jungle biome

Alex would usually stream and translate Mexican soap operas, which you joined in for sometimes

you'd give the characters different voices and twist their words up a bit to make it more entertaining for chat

the amount of drug talk that went into that was wild

also the amount of queer kids bullied in those schools?? yikes on bikes

also the one with that girl who got in trouble for kissing a boy on the playground or whatever that was?? Jesus christ man

youd both act put the scenes on occasion and use Tiger as whatever kid was being yelled at if she was in the room with you

taking a break halfway through stream for him to play guitar and for you to karaoke to fuckin Bo Burnham

also making fake joints out of paper he had laying around and "lighting them up" aka setting paper on fire next to a PC and your faces

Jackbox streams with the Feral Boys until 3am>>>

Paranormal Activity in the middle of the night went so fucking crazy

teaching Bad how to play GTA is your favorite memory with those two

playing horror games and watching him play horror games with Karl while he visited him

how dare he leave you all alone (you couldn't go because you had a busy schedule)

your chats shipping the hell out of you and your dsmp characters

hella fanart and fanfictions man

try not to laugh streams where you always ended up laughing before the ten minute mark because of him

he purposefully does shit to make you laugh

reading fanfiction on stream was a regular activity especially for y/s/n

youd rank the book on a scale from one to ten and how accurate to real life they were

"nahhhh that one doesn't have enough Thanos, two out of ten"

"yknow what... were gonna have our own tier lists... okay?"

"damnit... does this mean I'm not getting laid later?"

"what"

promoting the quackityhq merch religiously

also stealing whichever beanie he wasn't wearing, either the LAFD one or the plain black and blue one

him tying you to a chair and forcing you to laugh was a common stream plot

tweets that were either very inconspicuous about drugs, very sexual, or very old married couple vibes

youd both be frequently trending on twitter

hot wings or dare streams with Bad >>>>

playing girls go games and hoping you wouldn't give his PC a virus

sitting in the inflatable pool fully clothed, playing with children's bath toys

he'd for sure be the type to fall for his best friend

whether it be all the way back then or just now, he could go forever without feeling any feelings but one day they'll show up and the nervousness begins

he'd lend you a hoodie if you were cold in his room and he just straight up begs you to keep it

lots of just staring at you while chat ships you, like genuinley just zones out on your pretty face

would probably doubt his feelings at first and talk to his mom about it and she's like "boy you have a crush. Go ask them the hell out, you're a handsome young man, I'm pretty sure they like you too"

"mOooOooOoOoM"

genuinley spoils you with no good reason and after a while you just accept it

he starts sending good morning and good night texts

he'll repost (or reblog) (he has a secret tumblr) fanart of you two, especially if it's shipart

will constantly send you clips of movie characters making out or kissing and say "this should be us"

[wrtingsoftheunknown]

Vincent Sinclair HC

Vincent Sinclair hc SFW and NSFW

I’ve haven’t  been seeing my boy get repped recently so I have to do it myself. My first time writing something on here or towards this character ,I promise I will get better y'al,l I made this super quickly not proofread oops.

SFW

-While he can be insecure about his face he definitely has an ego from being the favorite child and having perfected his craft.

Lester drags him out to go for a ride around town or force him to come to his place for some quality brother time (Bo joins every now and then but wants peace and quiet dammit )

‘I know a lot of people have him learn sign language but I think he either writes what he wants to say, speaks as best as he can, or gestures, ( he was born in the south to parents that I don't think cared about communicating with him too much but he could have picked it up later in life maybe in his teen years or middle school era)

More sadistic than Bo when it comes to killing, he doesn't care if they are dead or alive when working on them and takes satisfaction in the result of his work

He prefers to work in silence but you can catch him humming now and then some country song or a guilty pleasure pop song from the 80’s( I see you Vince)

I think he partakes in multiple forms of art besides wax work.We see he’s able to paint, draw, but he also  takes pictures, , sews, writes, makes videos, anything artistic he’s learning and keeping up with new techniques.

Since he takes video of the killings at times I think they sell them as snuff films to make extra cash on top of stealing and selling victims stuff. (At least that’s what I thought when I first watched the film anyone else or just me)

Rarely happens but will keep victims that interest him like Bo ,but dispose of them when they get boring  or no longer match up the ideal version of them in his head.

-Does want a lifelong partner, the white wedding and picket fence, kids,  but knows it might be difficult with the line of work he does.

- He can talk but only does when it’s important or to emphasize something. He does have a southern draw like Bo and I imagine his voice to sound similar but raspier, maybe deeper/ quieter from not using it as much.

-like I said earlier you have to really catch his attention and be able to hold it for more than a week, if that happens then he’s obsessed and protective maybe a little too over protective.

Does indeed have a hair care routine I believe this full throttle and no one can can tell me otherwise I'm not listening.

NSFW

I don't know if he’s a virgin, I don't think he is something is telling me he isn't, but i’m not sure

He has no problem with nudity, bodies are seen as art, there's not as much of a sexual connotation with them as with Bo and Lester .

He wants to be in love with the person he is intimate with, he wants to be worship and worship his muse.

Drawings  of his partner naked as well as in the midst of a passionate night, he might tease them all night to make sure the sketch is as life like and accurate as possible

Good size and thick that's all I gotta say

Praise kink hard core, hearing his partner call him a good boy or how he makes them feel so good he will crumble

He starts slow and sensual, enjoys the control he has and having someone at his power.

I think he will edge you and leave you high and dry when you act out but he always caves by the end of the day and gives you what you need.

Can last a long time surprisingly

Mainly a giver but someone please for the love of god give this man the nastiest had he’s ever received will make the prettiest noises 

Is down to try anything new and more open about sex than you would think.

When he’s horny he comes up behind his partner and starts caressing every inch he can reach, while resting his chin on their shoulder acting as innocent as he can.

[muzzledjaw]

I have a lot of headcanons I've posted to @coffee4harper Discord server in the past couple hours and I was holdnto post them here so :]

💥TORCHWOOD💥

**Ianto James Bond Headcanons**

- Ianto has *atleast* five copies of his favourite James bond movies.

- Lisa started the "Jones. Ianto, Jones." Joke.

- After the events of the season 1 finale, ianto had been referred to as 007 multiple times.

- After Ianto's death, Jack went to every opening night showing of a James bond film, then went to Ianto's grave to tell him about it.

- Ianto use to have a framed picture of every James bond actor in his childhood room.

//

**Torchwood Social Medias**

During slow days at work, the team goes on:

*Owen* - Reddit. He absolutely loves Reddit and frequents many subreddits

*Tosh* - YouTube. She probably watches in depth YouTube tutorials on both things she's interested in so she can learn, and things she already knows to silently judge

*Ianto* - Tumblr. He's not very active, but he does some scrolling during slow days in the tourist office.

*Gwen* - Instagram. She comments on every one of Rhys' posts and watches instagram reels.

*Jack* - do you really think this man knows how to use social media? Owen probably made him download snapchat and got him hooked on the fitters like every grandparent

Owen's reddit account was also linked to his torchwood email

//

The team once came into the hub really late to find Jack sleeping on the couch under the "TORCHWOOD" sign hugging ten's hand jar

//

One of the last things the face of bo sees is a suited figure crouching down infront of him and just holding him. He can't remember the figure's face, or who it is, but the face of bo feels safe to die, knowing he's in this unknown figure's arms

//

Jack reaches out to ianto's sister after the days of miracle day and offers finance support to her until the day she dies, saying ianto would've wanted his family to be safe. This continues for generations, until eventually the children are stopped being told of their late relative Ianto and the odd man who gives them so much money in his name

//

Owen fucking loves Melanie Martinez - specifically Cry Baby

//

Sometime in season 2, Jack once again started feeling guilty about suddenly leaving Torchwood for the Doctor for like a year, so he surprised Ianto with a spontaneous road trip. They drove across Wales for a week and it was one of the last peaceful moments the two ever had

//

**Post Death**

Owen's spirit haunted Dash-Con

After the events of House If The Dead, Ianto's spirit ended up at Canary Warf. Tourists and people who work in the area often talk about the suited Welshman who sits at the fountain all day, everyday, waiting for a woman to arrive

Tosh's spirit, somehow, ended up in Glasgow. She haunts Torchwood 2 and helps old Archie with tech. Archie doesn't realise she's a spirit. He's just happy to have company and someone to help him with all the email stuff

//

Mitski became popular and Jack locked himself in his office for a week straight and sobbed to her songs, thinking about ianto and all he lost in the past few years. He made sure to keep her music safe until his face of bo era. He never played miski for the guests of his events. She was just for him and his cat maid

//

The doctor's hand was destroyed in the torchwood bomb, and after learning about it, Jack just sobbed. He's lost tosh, Owen, and ianto. And now, he can't even keep track of the doctor. He's lost in his eternal life with nothing. This later leads to his decision to leave earth

//

Jack absolutely loved the x-men comics when they were first released, and when X-Men First Class was released he'd watch it on repeat imagining him and his team in place of the characters. The roles would shift around sometimes, but Jack always sees himself as Charles Xavier

//

Jack had a fling with Wilfred Owen during WW1. He keeps original copies of the man's work close to him. After Ianto's death, he donated what he could scavenge of the papers to the London Archives, not wanting anymore reminders of the men he loved that died too young

//

After CoE, and realising she never actually knew Ianto, Gwen sat Jack down with a cup of tea and asked him to tell her everything he could about the real Ianto before his funeral. Jack just.. sighed.. and said to gwen, "he was many things" and never explained further

//

Before the coffin was closed, Jack started a stopwatch and placed it in Ianto's hand. Like the ring that John threw in with Jack when he was forced to bury Jack alive, the stopwatch was a tracker with a special battery to allow it to run for centuries. When he felt lonely, Jack would check on the tracker, just to know that ianto was still there and the stopwatch was still ticking away, timing their time apart. He was not ready for the day he checked on the tracker and the screen was blank

//

(Based off that one scene in greys anatomy) after the service, Jack and gwen found a quiet spot to sit, and Jack just burst into laughter. And because Jack was laughing, Gwen was laughing. And they laughed together until it morphed into a comfortable silence between them as they held eachother

//

Ianto was buried with a sobriety coin in his pocket. Only Jack knows about this.

[izzabela]

In the Mafia's Eyes - Lin Kuei Siblings x GN!reader

in which the deadliest mafia group's leader and two brothers have you in their sight

a/n: i was scrolling through and i laid my eyes on the most beautiful fanart EVER, so i asked permission to use it (as you can see, i got permission) BIG UPS TO @moonbay1cn for letting me use their art (i cropped it to fit my blog formats, if you don't mind)

ships: tomas, bi han, kuai liang x GN!reader

warning[s]: mentions of blood, suggested violence, suggestive, you're delusional

p.s. mafia au! the Lin Kuei are based in the U.S. instead of Arctika/China

You should have realized who the men you served were. Every single clue and hint was there, pointing you in the right direction, yet you ignored the obvious flags that waved in your brain.

New York City is insidious: places to be, things to do, dreams to achieve. There's a reason why it's called "the city that doesn't sleep." People are up at all hours of the day and night to do things, and the night was a tad more active than the day. For you, however, the days seemed to blur together. Working at a 24/7 shop isn't rare. What made it rare was that it was a 24/7 tea house/café/eatery.

In the middle of Manhattan.

Upper east side, Manhattan.

In a rundown building that was browner than poop stains and long-deceased rat corpses.

That should have been your first hint.

The building was old, needing constant repairs here and there, yet it was untouched by the most powerful real estate agents, landlords, and other money-grubbing losers that would love to tear the building down to replace it with a painfully sleek and sterile one.

You were grateful for Madame Bo's persistence against this modern era of sad, beige modernness, but were also confused. How did she make so much money to keep them away? And if she had such money, why wouldn't she do the renovations herself? She could easily update the internals and externals of the building if she wanted to.

"Oh dear," she had said, "The charm is in the age of the building."

The second clue to the enigma of the tea house café were the customers.

When you were first hired by Madame Bo, you didn't really notice the patterns of people coming in and out, nor the lackeys that would round the block. Despite how old this building was, it was a popular stop for both the middle class and the privileged snobs residing in the upper east side. Over time, you knew who were regulars and who weren't.

When you worked the day shifts, you made note of four men who would be walking outside the building. On other shifts, they switched it up on you and they were paired with women, posing as couples. However, you knew better than that. Sure, to the untrained eye they would have just been randoms working out, but your gut told you otherwise. They were tall, slightly beefed with muscle, and walked faster than a normal New Yorker- yeah, definitely not normal.

What also peeved you out was the fact you always felt... something on you. You couldn't figure out if it was safety or protection, but what you definitely felt were eyes on you.

It didn't stop there, though.

On the very rare, and desperate, occasions you had a night shift, you kept a mental tab that two people would enter the empty eatery. They would sit on opposite sides of the room, laptops open and untouched. While you didn't judge the work ethics of others, you certainly judged people who had questionable habits of work. Even so, Madame Bo made drinks for them- free of charge!

"My dear," she said to you one fateful night shift, "They do a lot more for us than we know."

The last hint was as obvious as a clown in disguise. Scratch that, it's not even a hint anymore- it's a big red "x marks the spot" on a treasure map. And the "treasure" came in a pack of three hot guys.

Every month since you began working with Madame Bo, three men in luxurious suits and tuxes came to visit the shabby tea house. One of them with gray-colored hair, while the other two matched in black colored hair. You also noted their style of face covering, two of them opting for a face mask while the other remained bare-faced.

Every month without fail, these three men came to visit and sit down for some tea. There were times where they just sat in comfortable silence together, other times they were discussing the mundane in their lives. Most of the time, though, they simply sat together and spoke with Madame Bo, laughing and engaging in hearty conversation.

Every time they spoke with her, you couldn't help but stare at them. Madame Bo and the three mystery men were more different than the poles in a magnetic field, yet they spoke to her with such respect and joy. You thought it was just a rare case of rich people being kind. During a day shift when they visited, you asked Madame Bo for the origins of the three men.

"Oh them? I used to watch them when they were little," she explained to you, Raiden, and Kung Lao, "All three of them are brothers, with Tomas being adopted."

You remembered that you zoned out during the explanation of her ties with them, the only thing you got were their names: Tomas for the ash colored hair, Bi Han to the navy suit, and Kuai Liang in his amber-rust colored suit. As you zoned out, your eyes wandered over to the three.

They were engaged in their own conversation, chuckling quietly as they spoke about their business. While the air within them was pleasant, you felt a bit of fear and excitement. Something about them made you want to straighten up, look presentable, and be on your best behavior. You wanted to give them the best customer service in their lives- actually, maybe more than just "service".

You remembered catching the eyes of Kuai Liang, who briefly looked away from his siblings to catch you staring at them. His gold-black mask covered the bottom half of his face, but the way his eyes wrinkled a bit signaled some sort of smile that lied underneath.

You blushed and turned away, trying to zone back into the conversation with Madame Bo and the other boys you worked with.

"Woah! So like, are they super rich, Madame Bo?" Kung Lao asked innocently.

Madame Bo nodded, stating something about how they own a couple of stores in the upper east side thanks to a family business. You, however, still did not get the memo about who they were until later that day.

This was the answer to your dilemma on who these ferocious and fine men were.

After a night with some of your close friends, you were walking home alone following a sketchy back-path. It was supposed to be a shortcut, provided by the maps app on your phone. However, it died after you forgot to charge it, leaving you wandering the unruly city during its worst. As you walked, you fell into trouble with some sleazy idiots.

You remembered how close they were to you, their alcohol-stained breath and sleazy style of walk. The way they slithered over your shoulder to try and get you to come home with them. Not only were you sober, but willing to fight. You had punched one of them in the nuts to escape, but the grasp of one of the disgusting men was too strong for you.

You remembered four of them surrounding you, and you really thought you'd meet your end in the alley that night. You closed your eyes, but heard gun shots and the sounds of bodies hitting the damp concrete. What once was creepy and dangerous men surrounding you, you found them lying in their own blood, clean shots through the head.

You fell to your knees, threatening to cry, but you saw a familiar color on a suit. Okay, a few familiar colors: gray, navy, and rusty amber. You saw a gloved hand reach out to yours, leading to Bi Han's broad figure. You took it, and he effortlessly brought you to your feet. You noticed his other gloved hand was getting replaced, Kuai Liang replacing the soiled mitten.

Tomas snuck behind you (you didn't even feel him get there) to offer his coat. He gently placed it on your shoulders, his eyes peeking down at your round, doe, startled ones. Despite what happened in front of you, and despite you finally learning who they really were, you weren't afraid.

Each man held something in their eyes that promised you safety, security, and protection. Like a guardian angel, these men made a promise with their eyes to you. A promise saying that no matter where you are, what you're doing, that you'd always be safe.

As the saying goes, "It's in the eyes, chico," and boy they aren't wrong.

=================

It's been a couple of months since that incident, and the games you've played with them and your mind have been infectious. The brother's visits to the café have begun to happen more frequently, they even visit you alone sometimes, which didn't help your brain's delusions.

Every time one of them came to the cafè, you were afraid they would see right through you and into your horny thoughts. Whenever they visited and watched you work, you felt their eyes not leaving you once. It got so bad that you would bring Raiden or Kung Lao to distract you while doing stuff, or simply have Madame Bo make them leave.

Even so, it didn't stop your mind at all.

On the day's Kuai Liang came to the café, his gaze on you was steady and still, like a constant fire during a winter storm. The way he looked at you was full of wanting, desire, and desperation- like he needed you more than oxygen. Your brain imagined that his body was warmer than most, and that he would keep you in a dizzying trance.

Your mind played scenarios in which Kuai Liang would explore every part of you, with no intent of letting you go either. His hands leaving hand-shaped slap marks and bruises, marking every part of you to let the world know that you were his alone to worship. His loyalty to you and your body would leave you overwhelmed, melting under his constant affection and love.

Your mind concluded he'd be a gentleman and a rough lover, and you had to shake the thoughts out before he knew.

When Bi Han came to visit, you didn't have to know it was him at all. While Kuai Liang's presence was warm and welcoming, Bi Han's aura was chill to the bone. Whenever you were working, Bi Han's eyes never left your body. You figured his stares felt more...cold: persistent, chilly, and never-ending. Like a blizzard in the cold tundra of the arctic.

With Bi Han, your mind played vignettes of how he'd take you to bed. He would be rough, not like Kuai Liang. He'd pull your hair, smack your perky behind, and tell you how much of a degenerate you really were- all for him of course. He'd leave hickeys everywhere on your body, a mosaic of pink, purple and red on you to remind you who belonged to who.

Your mind also thinks he'd be great with aftercare. All that rough-housing and such, you needed to calm down and collect yourself. Your brain fills your mind with him putting you in a bath, rubbing your back, shampooing your hair too. He'd whisper "I love you's" in your delusions, peppering each hickey with kisses.

For him, your mind finalized he'd be the roughest of the three, while also caring for your wellbeing post-sex.

Your brain was working in serious overdrive.

Finally, when Tomas came to visit, you always felt sweet with him around. Not only would he stare at you with such love in his eyes, but he'd engage with others around him.

Like a butterfly, he'd go around and spread joy; however, he loved floating around you the most. You found that talking to him was easier than talking to his brothers, so you talked to him about the basics of who you were. When you tried to bring up that night, he told you that it would stay between you four- a private business transaction.

He'd also ask why you spoke to him more, and not his brothers. He assured you that they wouldn't bite, but you simply said it was out of respect.

And to keep your thoughts at bay.

Despite all of this, you weren't fooled by him at all. The way he looked at you, when people weren't present, was filled with a primal hunger, a desire to have you. He was the predator, and you knew damn well that you were his prey- not able to get away from his trapping gaze. His stares were sharp and clear, like a hunter ready for the kill.

And by the elder gods your mind was ready to be hunted.

You imagined his grip on you being tight, like you'd disappear and he'd never find you again. He would be intentional with tour body, exploring every part of you in more depth and detail than his brothers. His touch would make you feel sensitive, flinching at how feathery and flighty his fingers were as he took every part of you for himself.

He'd kiss you like he'd leave forever- full of longing, desperation, and wanting. Your brain thinks he'd need you more than oxygen, that he would love nothing more than to breath your natural scent in like the necessary element.

If Kuai Liang made you dizzy with heat, and Bi Han made you shiver with his chill, then Tomas would have you writhing under him like a poor animal in heat.

You prayed to the elder gods silently, hoping the men wouldn't see your perverse thoughts as they came by the shop.

Unfortunately, your pleas were ignored.

During their monthly visitation, you saw to the brothers yourself and sat them down, took their order, and made their drinks. Tomas took an Earl Gray with a pastry, Kuai Liang with some matcha, and Bi Han with Oolong tea.

You quickly gave their drinks to them, paired with an even quicker "thanks for waiting" and retreated behind the counter.

You watched them only for a bit, your brain playing new scenarios, but you distracted yourself with chores. Deep into them, you didn't even feel them leave until Raiden and Kung Lao tapped your shoulder, money in the latter's and a note in the former's.

"Looks like our prettiest barista got some tip money," Kung Lao teased, "A crisp twenty dolla bill too!"

You gasped, but who could have gifted you with such a generous tip? Raiden hands you a slip of paper, which answers your question and fills your head with more of them.

"Uhh..." he fidgeted nervously, "I am not sure what this means, but it definitely makes me wonder..." he handed the note to you and you flush the deepest shade of red ever.

It's in the eyes, little barista

=====================

once again, big ups to @moonbay1cn for letting me use their beautiful piece of media for this post!

see yall in the next fic ;)

[hrefna-the-raven]

The dress

Main masterlist - Fallout masterlist

Summary: you found a well preserved dress from the pre-war era and you just had to try it on

Warnings: smut (18+)

Notes: I got sidetracked by Gage's charm 😅

Gage loosely draped the towel around his waist and marched into the spacious chamber of the Fizztop Grille. Having spent an entire day of shooting through ghoul infested areas, crawling through the dirt and almost getting knocked out by the spinning carousel, you had the audacity to shove him aside to shower first. You might have been the Overboss, but he was the one to put you in that position and as he spent time with you, he grew soft on you but that would end now. He was determined to draw a clear line when it came to shower privileges.

"Now listen up bo-"

He stopped in his tracks, finger still lifted, his eyes glued to your form. You were standing by the window, your damp hair cascading down, gracefully running your hands along your curves as you spun around in that delightful teal blue tea swing dress you had stumbled upon earlier. The V neckline dipped just below your breasts, revealing just enough to set Gage's mind ablaze. He wanted to be mad but he remained rooted to the spot, as though struck by lightning, unable to move a single muscle apart from the stirring between his legs. He swallowed a moan that was forming in the back of his throat, unsure whether he wanted to run out of the room or kiss you right then and there. You finally turned around, your eyes meeting his and with a broad smile on your lips and you danced over to him.

"I think I gonna keep this one, it looks gorgeous. I haven't been able to wear anything like this since before the bombs dropped, it's a miracle this dress is in such a good condition after two centuries."

You hummed, spinning around but were abruptly stopped by Gage's hands holding your shoulders. For a short moment the air crackled with that sweet anticipation, both of you staring at each other. It was strange gazing into both of his hazel green eyes, hardened by the life he lead and yet holding an alluring beauty to them. Before you could utter a single word, his lips crashed onto yours, pouring all the love he tried to hide from you into this one passionate kiss. Breaking away first, he chuckled softly as he struggled to catch his breath. His calloused fingers tenderly brushed aside a stray strand of hair from your face before caressing your cheek.

"You're a real stunner, you know that?", he spoke in a gentle voice.

"And you're a big old softie", you hummend in response, earning a heartfelt laughter from Gage, "so what comes next?"

"Next?", a mischievous smirk formed on his lips, "the fun stuff."

His hand lifted up the hem of your dress while he placed his other hand between your thighs. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the lack of underwear.

"Naughty boss", he chuckled, dragging two fingers along your folds.

You moan shamelessly, running your fingers over his growing bulge underneath the towel.

"Seems your just as naughty", you smirked.

The sounds spilling from his lips as you kept caressing him are delicious, the sweetest melody played for your ears only. You gasped when he pushed two fingers into you, curling them slightly as he kept thrusting them at a merciless pace. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your head tilting back, eyes shut tight, attempting to resist the approaching orgasm. Gage charmed his way into your heart the moment you set eyes on him. His gravelly voice, the irresistible grin and that big heart buried under the many layers of a hard life, it was impossible to not fall for him.

Gage found himself trapped in the same situation the moment you stepped into the Gauntlet. That untouched pre-war beauty combined with the toughness and sarcasm pierced right through his heart. He knew instantly that there was no return from the feelings that grew deep within him. He managed to hold on until today, the resistance he clung to became futile the moment he saw you in that damned dress.

"Porter", you moaned, your gaze meeting his, lips parted slightly.

He growled deeply when he felt your walls clench around his fingers as you came undone, drowning in the pleasure he gave you. You chuckled, panting heavily while your mind was still hazy from the orgasm that just waashed over you. Gage licked his fingers clean, humming content as your sweet taste filled his mouth.

"I...I should maybe return the favour", you murmured, reaching to remove the towel, but he stopped you.

"Nah boss, I'm damn fine with watching you like this for now", he placed a gentle kiss on your lips, "ain't makin' promises for later though."

Feel free to reblog if you enjoyed the story 😊

[sunsbleeding]

The love of your life?

You enable me when it’s fun for you, (you wanna see angels as much as I do, you said it yourself). Don’t you remember the nights in LA, the world you convinced me we created. You hurt me, betrayed me, just like my last best friend, which is where the dagger has buried itself the deepest. I feel it between my lungs when I try and fall asleep, breathing doesn’t come easy when you are newly clean and kicked like a mutt… I know you used HER words on purpose, manipulation runs through your blood, more than oxygen and platelets. Contact a nurse.

When we are alone in a world we made up, two minds existing as a single cell organism; all neon lights and hand plucked music; laughter big enough to fill the whole sky with constellations… even if they are a bit confusing to decipher… You’re telling me that was all a hoax? I delete the pictures of us, I remove myself from the playlist (your taste is pedestrian at best anyways, other than the few songs the whole world knows are good. Who doesn’t like frank ocean, Lorde, and phoebe Bridgers. Do you even know another The Mountain Goats song???).

I refuse to play pretend anymore.

When I make a mistake you take me down a peg just because you can, when you remember you’re dealing with a problem not a person, then you treat me like yesterdays garbage; rotten putrid, you don’t even know where it came from (or pretend you don’t) in order to save face in front of girls you barely know. I’m glad you got your happily ever after, with the person you told me you were only staying with to get your birthday gifts, the girl who made you a cake that you immediately told me was ugly and not instagram worthy? and all I got was a hole shaped like a girl who I thought was every beautiful thing this stupid world had to offer. But I know girls like that, and they look nothing like you, they have a beauty that holds you like a mother’s arms.

The thing is, there are good people, you’re just not one of them, you want a free score because I have the money, so go ahead take my pharmaceuticals even though you have a fucking prescription and laugh at me when I fall.

Get an education, make something of yourself, do something with your miserable life, books about wizards are only gonna get you so far, and at least now I don’t have to pretend like that’s not embarrassing …

Real love comes, and I’m starting to get a taste for it, let me wash myself of this era, this liar “people pleaser” nonsense. I have room for friends with one face, Thomas, Joey, Bo, glo, joy, Morgan, and all the people I still get to meet. You have a lot of growing to do, but may we never pretend to share the same heart beat again, I pray for the next person that gets caught in your dirty fingers, god, I hope they find the sun.