#I still have my copy in a cabinet

[andy-clutterbuck]

Andrew Lincoln The Rake - 2016

[thebandsilikeonlycharge18dollars]

[embervoices]

A very useful thread on Bluesky:

(There is a lot more. Rather than give you all the images, I've copied the full text below.)

Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬ November 8, 2024

This is not going to be a repeat of 2016-2020. It will be better, it will be worse, but most of all it will be different. Here are things I want every single person to keep in mind as we head into round 2 of a Trump admin.

My credentials: I’m a queer female public interest attorney working on tech policy in DC. I’ve been doing this for a decade--longer than some, not as long as others. I had to navigate three different administrations, as well as Congress, regulatory agencies, courts, and the advocacy world.

FIRST: don’t let despair override your media literacy.

The left has grifters, just like every other movement. If you’re able and compelled to donate, give to orgs with established track records. Avoid giving to individuals, especially anyone who emerges overnight with a one-weird-trick “plan.”

The left is not immune to misinformation, and everyone—EVERYONE—falls for it sometimes, present company included. There is no shame in it. When (not if) it happens to you, you should acknowledge it; delete or retract the post to reduce the spread; and move on.

If a source consistently shares half-truths or outright misinformation, it is not trustworthy, no matter how much “their heart is in the right place.” Unfollow and move on.

Prediction, analysis, and reporting are three fundamentally different things. Learn to identify them for what they are. Reject attempts by amateur “analysts” to predict the future. They know as much as you do.

Real subject matter experts know and acknowledge their limits. They’re also (usually) hesitant to try and predict the future. The best frame their predictions in terms of a range of possible outcomes. Subject matter experts may also disagree with one another! It happens!

SECOND: What we know for sure about how the Trump, how he operates, and how that will impact the next four years.

Trump is a narcissist who avoids reading and doesn’t care about details. He cannot be persuaded by argument or logic; he’s moved mostly by flattery, and will agree with the last person who flattered him. He can and will upend his own administration’s work without warning, often by tweet.

As a result, most policy experts—even those "on his side"—dread him taking an interest in their field. Ask any Republican staffer who worked in Congress during the last administration, and most of them will confirm that their greatest fear was Trump tweeting about anything related to their work.

As such, people who are serious about their work will do everything to make it as invisible and boring-seeming as possible. This is the policy equivalent of defensive camouflage. Lots of “normie” work will continue in silence. (The lion’s share of tech policy ends up in this bucket.)

If you have a niche issue that you care about, now is a great time to donate to orgs that work on it. Lots of money will be funneled to big legacy orgs working on headline issues: ACLU, climate change orgs, etc. Consider sending your donations where they matter most: local, niche, established.

Trump runs his cabinet like the Apprentice. He thrives on chaos and making people compete for his approval. Not only does he not reward collaboration between his subordinates, he actively undermines it.

Moreover, everyone who works with him knows that they’re vulnerable to being thrown under the bus at a moment’s notice, for any reason (or for no reason at all). His cabinet is going to be scorpions in a bottle. They will not be able to coordinate, for good or ill.

One scorpion can still do a lot of horrific damage. But large scale inter-agency coordination is unlikely, particularly after the first few months, by which point he will likely (prediction warning!) have gone through a handful of cabinet secretaries already.

FINALLY: The view from inside civil society heading into 2025.

In 2016, Trump was a largely unknown quantity. The left and establishment right alike wasted a lot of time trying to read tea leaves and make sense of this guy, because he was completely outside the realm of what anyone had dealt with. That’s not happening now.

He did us a favor by broadcasting his plans in advance (aka Project 2025). Civil society has spent the last 2.5 years strategizing around it. We’re not starting off flat-footed.

The Biden admin did a good amount to future-proof its own achievements. Folks can speak to their own areas of expertise, but clean energy and CHIPS and Science Act (investing in domestic semiconductor production) have benefitted from huge sunk investments. That money’s not getting clawed back.

OVERALL TAKE-AWAYS:

It's going to suck. But civil society and the political left have some advantages we didn't have last time. We know him, we know his angles, and we know who he's bringing in--none of which we had in 2016.

We'll get through this. It will be grim, but we'll get through it.

John Cutting‬ ‪@johncutting.bsky.social‬

Thanks Meredith. I really valued your analysis over the past few years, and I think this is a reasonable, actionable framework to think about the upcoming storm

Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬

I really cannot overstate how much time was (necessarily) wasted in 2017 trying to figure out this guy and his influences. The fact that he's not only a known quantity, but ran the most over-studied administration in this nation's recent history, makes this a very different game.

John Cutting‬ ‪@johncutting.bsky.social‬

I bet we can weaponize his narcissism. Let's say some ghoul starts making progress with a mass deportation effort, if we start calling that ghoul that "shadow president" en masse, Trump would fire him in right away and appoint Hulk Hogan or something

‪Meredith Rose‬ ‪@mrose.ink‬

This is exactly why I don't think Musk will last very long. Trump is very clear that he's the only one in the room allowed to have an ego or any kind of brand name.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗤𝗨𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt skips Tara Yummy's 1M party to have quality time with his girlfriend.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt's car glided through the moonlit streets of Los Angeles as he headed toward Y/N's apartment after dropping off his brothers at Tara Yummy's 1 million celebration party. The radio played the playlist created by him and Y/N, which they constantly fed with new songs that reminded themselves of each other.

Matt smiled as he looked to the little surprise he had prepared for his girlfriend. He made a brief stop at a flower shop on the way, where he bought a simple bouquet of pink tulips - Y/N's favorite. His eyes momentarily found the bouquet carefully wrapped and placed on the passenger seat before returning his gaze to the road.

Upon arriving at the building where Y/N lived, his access to the parking lot was quickly granted, the doorman already knowing him very well. The boy didn't take long to take the bouquet in hand, locking the doors and taking the elevator to the corresponding floor.

The sound of the keys against the front door lock sounded faintly through the living room, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing seconds later, Matt quickly taking off his shoes and resting them against the wall.

"Baby?" His voice echoed through the walls, expanding to the nearest rooms, while his eyes quickly surrounded the space, searching for the girl.

"Kitchen!" Y/N shouted back, an involuntary smile growing on her face almost automatically, her body reacting to Matt's presence.

Matt made his way to the kitchen and found Y/N with her back to him, focused on the counter as she moved her arms over the ceramics. With a smile on his face, he approached her silently and hugged her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his hands on her stomach covered by her hoodie and little green apron.

"Hi, pretty boy." Y/N murmured softly, rubbing her hands together to shake off the flour before wrapping her arms around his, caressing the hoodie-covered skin. "I thought you were going to Tara's party."

"Without my girl? Never." He responded in a low tone against her neck, laying his head on her right shoulder so that his face was facing her neck and sealing her jaw gently. "I brought you something." Matt pulled away slightly and retrieved the bouquet he had rested on the table.

Y/N turned to him with eyes full of curiosity and confusion, which soon turned into pure ecstasy, her heart overflowing with love.

"Oh my... Matt, they're beautiful!" The girl beamed, accepting the bouquet and cradling it in her arms as if it was a newborn.

"I always bring you flowers, I don't know how you still react so surprised." Matt murmured jokingly, smiling as he watched her enjoy the little gift.

As Y/N carefully arranged the tulips in a new ceramic vase, Matt approached the oven to peek at what she was preparing. The delicious aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the air, making his stomach growl with anticipation.

"Did you make cookies?" The boy asked excitedly.

"Yes! I was baking it to take it to you tomorrow." Y/N nodded quickly, returning to her starting position. "Do you want some, hon?"

"Yes, please."

Matt watched in awe as Y/N bent slightly, opening the stove door and carefully taking out the baking tray with her hand covered in the soft yellow fabric glove, resting it on the counter.

He knew he was lucky to have someone so incredible in his life, someone who cared about making every moment special.

The girl rose to her tiptoes after closing the oven, opening the cabinet above the stove and retrieving two dessert plates designed with little strawberries. She placed them side by side next to the tray before taking a small spatula and moving two cookies to each plate carefully, afraid of breaking or dropping them.

Matt walked over, taking one of the cookies from the tray with the tip of his fingertips, ignoring the slight burn from the high temperature. He lifted his own hand, blowing on the sweet before biting off a piece, closing his eyes automatically and letting out a sigh of pleasure through his nose. The way the cookie was still warm made it melt in his mouth, the chocolate exploding against his tongue, multiplying the variety of flavors.

"Is it good?" Y/N giggled, watching him with a smile gracing her face, receiving a quick nod with wide blue eyes. "Come on, baby."

She took the plates in her hands delicately, leaving her kitchen and walking to the balcony with Matt following close behind as he licked his fingers, removing all the chocolate residue.

The night was cool and clear, with the sky dotted with twinkling stars. The couple snuggled into the cushioned chairs that decorated the small space, Matt quickly reaching for the pink blanket that was folded on the small table on the right corner, opening it and throwing it over his and his girlfriend's legs, protecting them against the light breeze.

"Oh! Matt, remember the dog constellation I was telling you about the other day?" Y/N's excited voice cut through the comfortable silence, her eyes lighting up just like the stars above them.

"Sirios? No, wait, Sirius... Right?" Matt frowned, a cute look of confusion spreading across his face as his eyes darted from Y/N to the sky and back again.

"Exactly! Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. Right there." The girl raised her arm that wasn't holding her plate, pointing her index finger upwards.

Matt looked in the indicated direction, navigating through the stars for a few seconds until he found it.

"Wait, it's actually beautiful. What else do you know about it?"

Y/N smiled truthful, her heart warming at being able to talk more about something she loved so much, without having restrictions or feeling ashamed for her excitement.

"Well, Sirius is a binary star, which means it is actually two stars orbiting around each other. It is part of the constellation Canis Major, the Greater Dog, and is known as 'The Dog Stars'. Oh, oh! Do you remember Sirius Black? My favorite Harry Potter character? So, this star..."

Matt listened intently, slowly chewing the small cookie pieces while keeping his eyes fixed on Y/N. Her passion for astronomy and the universe always fascinated him, and there wasn't a time when she brought up the subject that he wasn't willing to give her his full attention.

As the night progressed, Matt and Y/N continued to stargaze, lost in conversations about the cosmos and its mysteries.

As the last cookie crumbs disappeared from the plates and the sky began to brighten with the sun that appeared over the horizon, Y/N felt a wave of comfort and contentment envelop her body, resting the ceramics on the corner table and moving gently towards Matt, settling on his lap.

The boy opened a big, involuntary smile, automatically wrapping her with his arms and the pink blanket, protecting them from the slight cold of dawn, while she laid her head on his chest, feeling the peaceful rhythm of his heartbeat and serene breathing.

Together, they kept their eyes fixed on the sky that was beginning to take on color, the sound of the first cars on the street, and the laughter of children going to school filling their ears.

Little by little, Y/N began to feel the effects of exhaustion after staying up all night, her body relaxing against Matt's comforting warmth. Sleep came like a gentle wave, enveloping her senses in an embrace.

Her breathing became slow and regular, while her body became limp and light. Her brain shutting down and giving in to deep sleep, to the point where she didn't hear the little whisper of "good night, petal" from her boyfriend, let alone his arms carrying her to her bed, where they finally slept in each other's arms.

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[weirdlandtv]

How to depict blinking in a comic? Oh hello, by the way. Yes, I'm still alive. I'm fine and how are you and all that but—how to depict blinking in a comic strip? Carl Barks used this method—

The ducks' huge eyes are split in two, with one set of slightly faded pupils in the top half (see image 1), and another of solid black pupils in the lower half, both sets cut off in such a way that the “stacked” pupils don't appear like one large elongated pupil (a thin white horizontal line separates the two states as well); and that, with the added "Blink! Blink!" gets the job done perfectly. Here’s another slightly different blink:

(Now that I'm writing this stuff about top half, bottom half I'm suddenly reminded of a Barks gag I came across: a file cabinet in the background of a panel with one drawer saying TOP SECRET and the one below it saying BOTTOM SECRET.)

Really though, Barks's brilliant stories are en endless source of great ideas, gags, splash pages, twists, visual tricks, pacing, phrasing, suspense building, the whole proverbial "shebang", whatever a shebang is: I've said it before on this blog but any budding artist or writer—heck, even a professional one—could learn a lot from Barks's best work. Fireworks of creativity.

Re-reading some of Barks's stories, as I sometimes do by way of therapy, it struck me that many panels consist of three main elements: a foreground element, a middle section where the action takes place, and a background:

This foreground element can really be anything. It can be a bush, a tree, a rock, even a wave:

It can be a chair, a table, or any other piece of interior:

It can be a character, or just their silhouette:

And of course it's also a good way to hide snooping villains:

In the Gyro Gearloose stories the foreground element is often Little Helper having a kind of silent slapstick adventure of his own (in Dutch here as it’s from my own copy):

…Also, how is this for dark:

[irisintheafterglow]

just too soft for all of it

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: taylor swift - "sweet nothing"

summary: you only call bakugo when you need his body. what happens when you need him for a different reason? (prohero!bakugo x reader)

wc: 1.1k

cw/tags: fwb to lovers, no explicit smut (just implications and allusions but mdni just in case), descriptions of anxiety and a panic attack, angst/comfort with happy ending, swearing, pet names (sweetheart, baby, babe), broken glass, stubborn reader and even more stubborn katsuki

note: is this my coping mechanism for all the 'casual' inspired fics i've seen lately? possibly. will i continue to keep reading said 'casual' inspired fics? definitely. haven't written kats in a hot minute, hope you like it :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

"I need you." 

"I'm busy. This new report shit is going to be the death of me, I swear–"

"I need you right now. Please." Your voice shakes and he mistakes it for horny desperation.

"Aww, you need me that bad? Need me to come and make you feel good, is that it?" He smirks patronizingly and you hear it through the phone, despite your vision going in and out of clarity.

"Katsuki," you breathe, and his hand goes deathly still over his paper. You never said his name like that; you always addressed him outside of the covers as 'Bakugo' or 'shithead' or 'asshole.' He hears you swallow, his senses finally returning and realizing just how exhausted you sound. "I can’t breathe–I think I'm...I think I'm having a panic attack and-and I can't calm down and it's–it's too much and–"

"Breathe, sweetheart," he says before you can continue, his hand flinging open his front door and blasting himself into the darkness. "Just hold on, I'm on my way." 

By the time he’s let himself into your apartment, it’s nearly midnight. He considers toeing off his shoes at the door but quickly decides against it when he spots the broken glass scattered across your dining room floor. You’re hugging your knees close to your chest, so backed up against the floor cabinets that he almost missed you when he looked for you in the kitchen. The glass crunches beneath his shoes as he crouches down to look at you, relief flooding him as he realizes the glass didn’t injure you. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, trembling even as he peels your arms away from your sides. “It just–I was making late dinner and one of my glasses broke and everything just came crumbling down…” He’d never seen you like this; you were always the collected one, the one who was always teasing him for being stressed when, in reality, you were just better about hiding all the weight on your shoulders. Your breath comes in short inhales and pained exhales and it’s like Katsuki’s body instinctually knows what to do. Taking your hands in his, he presses them against his chest at the exact spot where you can feel his heartbeat. It’s steady as a steam engine, thumping below your fingertips. In through the nose. Without breaking eye contact, he exhales a deep breath, nodding encouragingly when you copy him. Out through the mouth. 

“That’s it, baby. Just like that,” he murmurs, breathing deeply again and again and again until your body ceases its fight or flight response. “You’re doing great, sweetheart. Just keep breathing.” 

“Katsuki…” 

“We’ll talk after, I promise,” he gently reassures you, softer than you’d ever heard him speak. “For now, I need to make sure you’re okay.” In through the nose, out through the mouth. Even when he knows the situation is de-escalated, he doesn’t dare move his hands, nor stop modeling deep breathing. He waits for you to say that you’re done, to yank your hands away and mock him for being so caring and thoughtful, attributes that didn’t come with your strictly physical relationship. You don’t; you stay there on the floor with him until the tension in your body completely releases, leaving you slumped against your cabinets. You move to position your knees under you, but his hands catch your wrists a split second before your palms hit the floor. You glance at him with a confused expression. “The glass, babe. Lemme put you on the couch and I’ll clean it up.”

“You don’t need to do that. I can clean it when I’m–” You’re cut off by the sensation of being lifted off the ground, his arms effortlessly bringing you against his chest and laying you on your living room couch. “Wait, I can just clean once you leave."

“Stop,” he grumbles with a burst of intensity that takes you aback. “I’m gonna take care of you, so sit and wait until I’m done. Got it?” You blink at him but he doesn’t relent, and you’re forced to nod and wait as he meticulously sweeps and vacuums every single particle of glass until sleep is nudging at your eyelids. He’s just stuck your vacuum back in the closet as you muster up the energy to stand, stumbling in the direction of your room. “Fucking hell, you don’t know when to quit,” he mutters, sweeping your legs out from under you again and carrying you the rest of the way to your bed. 

“Who knew you could be so doting?” 

“You’re mocking me when I’m literally carting you around your own place. Unbelievable,” he scoffs, carefully settling you on the covers and taking a seat at the edge. 

“I’m not being sarcastic,” you reply, your eyelids sleepily opening and closing. “I really am surprised that you’re taking care of me like this.” 

“Of course I’m taking care of you, dumbass,” he grunts. “I know we said no attachment, but you’re more than a body to me.” His voice quiets but you hear it anyway, smiling against the pillow. 

“When were you gonna tell me that, idiot?”

“Not sure. Was waiting for the perfect moment.” He shrugs, reaching over to run his hand up and down the side of your thigh. 

“And you think this is it?” 

“It’s definitely not, but it felt like the right thing to say.” You hum in contentment and he slyly rubs his hand backward just to see what happens. 

“Easy there, cowboy,” you chuckle, looking up at him over your shoulder. “Even when I’m broken, you can’t resist grabbing my ass.” 

“You’re not broken. Don’t say that about yourself. And even if you were,” he scolds, though you know there’s no venom behind it. “Guess who’s gonna be the one to put you back together?” You hum again and he can feel your consciousness slipping. “You gonna let me stay the night, sweetheart?” 

“Is the sky blue, dumbass?”

“Just checking,” he grins, positioning himself beside you and flipping you over to face him. You groan in protest but still mold yourself into Katsuki’s chest, his arm securing you against his body. “G’night.”

“Night, Katsuki. Don’t let your alarm wake me up early or I’ll kick you in the dick,” you warn, your body further relaxing in his warm safety. 

“After everything I’ve done for you tonight? So ungrateful.” You snort, drifting off with a smile on your face that makes his heart stutter. He double checks that all his alarms are off and, for good measure, turns off his phone entirely. No one’s reaching him tonight, not when you’re his first priority. When he’s sure you’re out, he whispers the real reason why, even when it wasn’t a booty call, he rushed to you in the middle of the night. 

“Mmm,” you hum and he freezes, having no idea whether you were responding or just making that noise in your sleep. “I love you too, Katsuki.” 

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[thef1diary]

A Spoiled Surprise | M. Verstappen

Summary: Max, your roommate, wanted to decorate the house to celebrate your birthday. Inconveniently, you walked in before he was fully prepared.

— part of the Birthday Bash fics

pairing: max x fem!roommate!reader

wc: 1.5k

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© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

As your birthday approached, the familiar pang of homesickness settled in your heart. Being away from home meant that you couldn't celebrate with your childhood friends or family, and the thought of spending the day alone in your apartment weighed heavily on your mind. But little did you know, your roommate Max had made plans to make your birthday still feel like a proper celebration.

Max had been sneaking around the apartment for days, trying to plan a surprise for you, but it was harder than it seemed.

His determination to make your birthday special fueled his every move as he threw himself into the preparations with gusto. While you were in your room, he rummaged through cabinets and drawers, attempting to gather supplies, but he barely found anything.

Max set to work, his mind buzzing with ideas and possibilities. He meticulously planned every detail, jotting down all the decorations he needed to buy. Nothing was left to chance — this had to be perfect.

He left the apartment a day before your birthday, wanting to buy all the supplies he needed to decorate and to make a homemade cake. With his arms laden with bags filled with streamers, balloons and whatnot, Max made his way back to the apartment. Fortunately, you weren't in the apartment at the time, allowing him to hide the items until he needed to decorate.

When you returned, he was inconspicuously relaxing on the couch, but it still made you raise your eyebrows. "Did you end up going to the store?"

"Yeah, why?" He asked, attempting to be nonchalant.

"You didn't restock anything…” you trailed off, having checked the pantry. "Oh, um, I forgot," he reasoned.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity at his response, but you decided to let it slide for the time being. "It's fine, I'll go tomorrow."

He nodded, a small smile growing on his face because it'll give him a chance to decorate once you're out of the house. However, he does feel bad that he's making you run errands on your birthday.

The next day, Max sat at the kitchen table, his gaze fixed on the calendar displayed on his phone screen. He couldn't help but notice the red circle marking today's date — your birthday. A mixture of excitement churned in his stomach as he could finally decorate.

As he heard your footsteps approaching, Max quickly minimized the calendar app and forced a casual smile. "Hey, are you going out now?," he asked, hoping that you would be out of the house soon.

You nodded, "yeah, just grabbing my keys," you gestured to the car keys sitting on the table.

"Alright, see ya," Max waved playfully, earning a confused expression from you.

Max watched you go, and once he heard the door to the apartment close, and the familiar sound of the key locking the door, he stood up.

He wasted no time in beginning to decorate the apartment. He started with making the cake first, mixing up the batter and putting it in the oven. While it was baking, he hung streamers from the ceiling and started inflating the balloons using the pump.

Despite his best efforts, time seemed to slip through Max's fingers like grains of sand. With each passing minute, the pressure mounted, and he found himself racing against the clock to finish decorating before you returned home.

He taped the 'Happy Birthday' banner to the wall and smiled since it was coming together. The ring from the timer startled him, indicating that the cake was finished baking, reminding him to pick up the pace.

He popped the cake out of the pan onto a cooling rack and let it sit on the counter while he went back to the balloons.

No matter how hard he worked, it seemed as if there were always more decorations to hang, more balloons to inflate, more details to attend to. With each passing moment, the pressure mounted, threatening to overwhelm him.

And then, just when it seemed as if he would finish in time, Max heard the sound of keys jingling in the lock. His heart leaped into his throat as he realized that you were back earlier than expected.

With a sense of dread coursing through him, Max frantically tried to put the finishing touches on the decorations, attempting to pump air into the balloon he was holding, but it was too late.

You walked into the apartment, holding a couple bags full of groceries with a curious expression on your face as you took in the scene before you.

"What's all this?" you asked, your eyes widening in surprise as you surveyed the half-finished decorations.

Max's heart sank as he met your gaze, knowing that he had failed to finish decorating in time. "I, uh, well, I wanted to do something special for your birthday," he admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You stood in the doorway, a mixture of surprise and confusion flickering across your features as you took in the scene before you. Streamers hung haphazardly from the ceiling, balloons littered the floor, and a plain cake sat on the counter, the aroma of freshly baked vanilla filling the air.

A small smile grew onto your face when you noticed the banner, and your eyes softened as you took in the chaotic scene before you, a warmth spreading through you at the sight of Max's efforts.

"Max, that's incredibly sweet of you," you said, your voice filled with genuine appreciation. "I had no idea you were planning all of this."

Max breathed a sigh of relief at your response, the tension melting away from his shoulders as he realized that you weren't upset with him. "I just wanted to make sure you had a great birthday, you know, being away from home and all," he said, his voice tinged with sincerity.

You quickly placed the bags on the countertop, and stepped forward to inspect the decorations. "Well, you definitely succeeded," you said, reaching out to give Max's arm a reassuring squeeze. "I love it, even if it's not finished."

Max couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude at your words, a sense of pride swelling within him at the knowledge that he had succeeded in making your birthday special. "Thanks," he replied, his voice tinged with emotion. "I'm glad you like it."

As you both surveyed the scene before you, disaster struck. The balloon Max had been holding slipped from his grasp, and suddenly it was soaring through the air, bouncing off the walls and ceiling like a mischievous spirit.

You both stood there stunned for a moment, watching in disbelief as the balloon's chaotic flight filled the room. And then, without warning, you burst into laughter, the sound filling the room like music to Max's ears.

He couldn't help but join in, his own laughter mingling with yours as he watched the balloon land on the couch, deflated. In that moment, all the tension and uncertainty that had been weighing on him melted away, leaving nothing but a sense of pure joy and exhilaration in its wake.

Once the laughter died down, Max nudged you. "I still have to decorate the cake," he stated, glancing at the cooling cake resting on the countertop.

"Let's do it together," you suggested.

As you and Max worked side by side, carefully icing the cake, the atmosphere in the kitchen was filled with laughter and chatter. "Is this why you 'forgot' the groceries?" You asked, dipping a spoon into the bowl of icing and carefully spreading it over the top of the cake.

Max had a sheepish smile on his face, "I was busy buying the decorations, so I actually forgot about why you sent me to the store in the first place."

You shook your head with a smile, and reached across to grab a napkin, but as you did, your hand accidentally brushed against Max's face, smearing a steak of icing across his cheek.

You gasped once you saw his face, then burst out into laughter again, your stomach already beginning to hurt with how much you laughed.

He instinctively reached up to touch his cheek, but instead of looking upset, a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh no you didn't," he muttered. Before you could react, Max dipped his finger into the bowl of icing and flicked a dollop of it onto your nose.

"I see how it is," you stated, a playful grin spreading across your face.

With a laugh, the two of you engaged in an impromptu icing fight, smearing frosting on each other's faces and giggling like children. By the time you were finished, both of you had icing all over your clothes, hair, and even on the kitchen floor, but you couldn't remember the last time you had laughed so hard.

As the laughter subsided and you caught your breath, you couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness wash over you. Despite being away from home, living with someone who was once a stranger, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

You held your arms out, stepping closer and embracing Max. He made a disgusted face, "you're all sticky."

You chuckled, "so are you, now shut up and hug me back."

He obliged, wrapping his arms around you too. "Thank you, this means a lot to me," you mumbled against his shirt.

Taglist: @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @hiireadstuff @racingheartsposts @d3kstar @xjval @namjoonswaifu @isabellewinchester @thedecalcomania-blog @casperlikej @khaylin27 @mlioravanfleet @nikfigueiredo @wonnou @jointhehunt67 @helenemandl6 @charlesleclercsonlywife @dreamingonbed @regalbanshee @landoslutmeout @barcelonaloverf1life @megudaeggu @c-losur3

[leonw4nter]

I really like ur fics with Leon as a dad 🤍 can I request one where it’s angst at the start but happy at the end? I think with Leon’s job he’s probably alway moving to new places and his wife is kinda at the point where she just can’t take it and worried for their kid?

My Baby Here On Earth Showed Me What My Heart Was Worth

Husband!RE:Damnation!Leon x F!Reader

“The kids are sleeping now,” you quietly tell your husband as you get into bed with him.

He hums a response, setting aside a copy of William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury as he gets up. To go look at the kids one more time for the night, he says as he walks around the foot of the bed and towards the door. You wait until Leon noiselessly closes the door, his footsteps growing fainter as he grows more distanced from you, to sigh deeply, sitting up to lean against the cold headboard as you bury your face in your hands for a moment. You love Leon and you know that he loves you and your kids too but he’s grown increasingly distant with each passing day after coming home from deployment to the Eastern Slav Republic. You’ve done your best to show that you’re there for him, initiating conversations and even giving him simple compliments but the most he’s done is look in your direction and nod. A hum and a forced smile, if you’re lucky and he’s feeling less bad about himself. He still took care of the kids, driving them to school and playing with them in the afternoons but it’s clear that his mind is far from home. Even the kids could sense just how weary their father is, doing their best to cheer him up by giving him colorful drawings and letters. “Don’t be sad, daddy! Me, Ollie, and mama are here for yuo!” one of them reads, the word ‘you’ misspelled but Leon loved it nonetheless. For a quick moment he genuinely smiled whenever he read the letters and saw the drawings again before the frown took its place in his face again as he put the artwork in a folder and placed it back in the drawer cabinet.

You lifted your head from your hands when Leon walked back in, silent as always as he headed back to his side of the bed. You stared at him, urging him to say something–anything, just to dissolve the wall that he put up around himself but to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t speak. He checks the time on his phone and decides that it’s far too late to continue reading his book and sinks down beneath the covers, muttering a nearly inaudible ‘goodnight’ to you before he closes his eyes and drifts to sleep. Hurt, you scoff at how distant he feels. Physically, he’s home and with you but you know that emotionally and mentally, he’s still on the other side of the world and dealing with Tyrants, Lickers, and corrupt leaders. Turning the lamp off, you sink into the sheets as well and turn to face the wall. You have so much to say, so much to express to him but you’re afraid that this will only push him further from you even more. Worst case scenario, he packs his bags and sleeps in a hotel for a week before coming home plastered. He’s never done that before but you don’t want this rift to widen to the point he even considers doing that, maybe even leave behind the family he has with you for the enigmatic woman in red. Inhaling deeply, you shut your eyes before you speak to him. You don’t even think deeply about what you’re doing before your fears get to you and force you to shut up again.

“I can’t keep doing this, Leon.” You shakily begin. “We can’t keep doing this. I’m here for you, so are the kids, but you’re pushing us all away.”

“I need space.” He responds. Short and curt, straight to the point but you wish he said more.

“What does ‘space’ mean to you, Leon?” you gently ask as you sit up and face him who is still curled up on his side, his face hidden away like a secret. “I just want to know what I can do to support you while also giving you some time alone.”

“Leave me alone. There. That’s the kind of space I want,” he grumbles as he sits up, facing you. You stay silent for a moment, your sympathetic gaze on him but his eyes are elsewhere as he runs a hand through his dark hair, not wanting to see the look on your face.

“Okay. But let’s still talk, okay? Let’s voice out how we feel and communicate, I want to be able to provide you with what you need–”

“Why are you doing this?” Leon interrupts, not out of irritation but rather out of wonder. Your eyes widen for a quick moment before you inch a little near him, hesitant to reach out and place your hand on his hand.

“Because I care for you, Leon, and I don’t want to see you suffer alone. I want to be here for you and share the weight of the world on your shoulders too. You don’t have to keep it all to yourself, I can see it eating away at you.”

He doesn’t stop you when you take his hand, feeling the scars and calluses on them. He quite misses your touch, actually, but he felt like he was throwing himself a pity party whenever he thought about asking you for a hug or a kiss.

“I don’t want to bring home anything from work,” he explains. “I don’t plan on mixing it– work and home life… and I didn’t expect for it to get to this. That I’m pushing you and the kids away. I don’t… I don’t want my family to even think about how the monsters I’ve killed looked like or how I killed them. Something as precious as you three don’t deserve that. Our little ones, most of all.”

Pulling him in for the first hug in nearly two weeks, after two weeks of Leon trying to avoid your physical display of affection, he gives in. He leans his forehead on your shoulder but doesn’t wrap his arms around you and instead, lies limply on his side.

“Oh Leon,” you delicately whisper. Sushing and humming the same tune you used to hum when your toddlers were still tiny babies, you tenderly sway Leon from side to side in order to ease all the anguish he bottled up and refused to share. It doesn’t take long for his tears to wet your shoulder, his large frame shaken with stifled sobs. He went by “Condor One”, “Agent Kennedy”, and many other aliases required by his job but at the end of the day, he is your Leon Scott Kennedy. “Daddy”, as his dear children would call him.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Leon slept in your arms, his head buried in your side with an arm slung around your stomach, for the first time in the longest time. He still shook and spoke in his sleep, flinching at times, but his sleep appeared to be much more restful. It was your turn to be unable to fall asleep now, a hand gently patting Leon’s shoulder blade with a watchful eye observing him. You were tired from the entire day and the crying you did with him hours ago but you couldn’t find it in you to doze off; you thought about your kids’ future and raising them, along with considering the fact that Leon was rarely home for a long time and was always moving to new places for indefinite periods. Each mission brought the fear that this would be the last time you’d see Leon alive, to be talking to you in person and that what would come home to you are two agents holding a folded flag, an urn, and what remained of his gear instead. It would be cruel for Leon, who proudly proclaims that his life has only begun when he met you. Leon, who knew what it meant to truly live when he found out that you were pregnant with his children. You knew that it also hurt Leon to leave at ungodly hours of the night when he was going to be deployed for a mission and to think that his kids would wonder where their daddy is and why he’s always gone. You’re used to Leon’s constant absence but it doesn’t hurt any less each time he has to go. His job is bad for your heart, constantly putting it in a state of worry and fear. It always stung whenever your kids asked if they could go with Leon when he had to leave on an “adventure” because they wanted to spend more time with him. You hated breaking the news to Leon that he’d have to miss out on another one of their school events, having to phone Chris or Patrick to attend in his place; he sounded so pained whenever he asked about the details of the event, his dreams of walking up the stage and being active in his childrens’ schooling playing in his head every time he closed his eyes for a quick nap before being back on his feet and killing monsters. Ultimately, you decided to give the kids a day trip with Leon since their only trip with Leon was when they were still babies. Sighing once more before giving sleep another try, you start to mentally compile all the things needed for tomorrow’s road trip.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“She’s already got a stain on his shirt and the ice cream hasn’t even melted yet,” Leon says with an amused grin as he tries to wipe the chocolate off of Euphemia’s pink shirt with a wet wipe. You’re preoccupied with watching over the other twin Ollie, who’s trying to call a stray cat and give the kitty a lick of his vanilla ice cream. You look back at Leon, who’s giving his daughter kisses as he got the stain to look a lot less dark than it was earlier.

“Pheme still tends to get ice cream everywhere,” you softly tell him as you offer another set of wipes, to which he declines since the stain isn’t obvious and the wipes could be used for later. Leon smiles when he notices you use the nickname he gave to Euphemia; he’s managed to get you to use this one instead of his other loving nickname for Oliver, “Rolliver Polliver”, derived from when Ollie almost ate a roly poly bug.

All of you finish eating ice cream without getting any more stains or a cat being fed something it shouldn’t be fed and get back to the car, hitting the road once more. Queen, Hall & Oates, Elton John, and The Flamingos have been traded for nursery rhymes and songs to induce sleep in toddlers in order to get them to nap a little bit. Instead of Leon sitting in the passenger seat with you, he decided to sit at the back in between the kids in order to spend some time being near them on the road trip. The twins seemed to have gotten their habit of sleeping with their head leaned back and mouth slightly ajar while softly snoring from Leon, who is also asleep with his hands on their child car seat. Caught in a red light, you quietly observe this tender moment in the front and snap a few pictures of them with your digital camera from 1989 that still surprisingly works well. You giggle at the sight behind you, heart melting at seeing your husband and children look so adorable. His jacket is on your lap when you told him that you were feeling a little chilly, insisting that he’s fine in the back without one. Just earlier, he was making funny faces and holding a serious, one-sided conversation with his little ones, making them laugh and giggle at his every word and now they’re all asleep together. If it means having more moments like this, you’re ready to fight the D.S.O. for keeping your husband occupied on the other side of the world. You guess that it’s also moments like these that Leon continues to fight bioterrorism so that other families can safely enjoy moments like this one without worrying about monsters coming to harm their loved ones. Since the red light is still going and you seem to have been caught in a moderate traffic, you take out your video cam and film the soft scene behind you. “Papa and the kiddos are sleeping together, their snoring isn’t in sync so there’s no moment of silence for me but I don’t mind. I love you all so much and momma is very happy right now.”

After nearly four hours of driving, you four finally get to the cliff overlooking the great wide sea. Parking your car to a safe place, you take out the picnic basket and start preparing your spot. You two chose a spot underneath the shade of a thick tuliptree, a cover from the hot sun. The kids have been asking so much about finally being able to play soccer and ‘helicopter’, a game where Pheme and Ollie hang from Leon’s arms as he spins around (the twins have promised to never, ever play ‘helicopter’ again because they got dizzy but they seem to have ‘forgotten’ it this time) and you explained that they can play an hour after having the picnic and when the sun isn’t so hot anymore. Leon agrees and although the twins don’t seem too happy, they don’t appear to mind it that much since they’re eager to help Leon in unloading the car (he gave them the lighter tasks). As soon as the food is set and most of the bugs have been successfully warded off, the twins gather to sit beside you but before everyone can take a bite of the sandwiches, Leon gets up and takes the digital camera and snaps a couple of pictures, even attempting a selfie at one point. Soon, everyone digs into their sandwiches and stuffs their faces full of the snacks you and Leon prepared together in the morning.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After what felt like the nth picture Leon has taken of you and the twins, he finally puts the camera down and puts it back in its case but picks up the video cam instead. The twins groan, urging their dad for more playtime even if they’re drenched in sweat with dirty knees.

“5 minutes,” Leon says as he starts recording. “Papa’s back hurts. Why don’t you ask mama?”

“Mama already played! She can’t carry us and she says she’s also tired! She’s reading now!” Pheme exclaims.

He points the camera towards you, reading a pocketbook in the picnic basket while dabbing your forehead and neck with a towel. He laughs and calls you, causing you to look up from the book you were engrossed with and blow him a kiss. He laughs one more time, ‘catching’ the kiss and placing it inside his shorts pocket which gets a giggle out of you.

“My beautiful wife is uhh sitting there, she’s reading.” He narrates as he zooms in. “Very beautiful, the sunlight is hitting her just right. Gosh, she makes me nervous and she doesn’t even know. Love her very much.”

He zooms out and zooms into his children, who decide to take interest in the rocks and starts flinging them towards the cliff with the intention to try to fling it to the ocean, which is quite far from where they are.

“Hey kiddos,” he says as he walks up to them and pats them with his free hand. “What’re you doin’?”

“We’re trying to throw rocks into the ocean!” Ollie and Pheme cheerfully explain, showing their rocks to the lens before flinging it with all their tiny might.

“Ooh, that’s quite far honey,” Leon comments. “Want me to try?”

The twins cheer and he takes that as an opportunity to throw one, the recording being temporarily shaky.

“Woah! You threw it far, papa!” The twins say and clap, determined to throw it as far as he did. He helps the twins throw it, focused on teaching them how to aim and the force they need to exert to fling it a little farther.

After several minutes of flinging rocks and random conversations with your husband and your kids, you call them over to look at the pictures Leon has taken. Everyone gathers around you as you look at each one, oohing and aahing at Leon’s photography skills. Leon focuses the cam on the pictures popping up in the digital camera, chipping in with his thoughts.

“Mommy looks amazing there,” he breathily says. “Divine. What’d you think, Pheme?”

“So pretty!” She beams before giving you a big kiss on the cheek. Ollie giggles and snuggles closer to you, occasionally pointing to the pictures.

Like you guessed, most of the pictures are of you, the kids, or both. Observant like their dad, they picked up on this as well.

“Pa, you’re not in a lot of the photos! It’s always us or mama!”

Leon chuckled, ruffling his kids’ heads. He extends a pointer finger to a shadow in the image before you switch to another one, pointing to the tall shadow once again.

“That’s me,” Leon explains. “I’m the shadow.”

His twins seem confused, falling into silence along with you, who is also intrigued by Leon’s words.

“When you look at these pictures when you’re bigger, I want you all to know that I’m always here. These are proofs that I’m with you because I’m the shadow and I’ll always look out for all three of you,” he explains

The twins say ‘aww’ at the same time and tackle his legs, hugging him tight. While you set the camera down and look at Leon with a small pout and slightly glossy eyes. Leon chuckles softly and places a free hand on your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek before you join your twins in giving him a big bear hug as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you, Leon.” You softly tell him, warm breath fanning against his neck.

“Me too, sweetheart. I love you more.” He tenderly responds as he hugs you and the kids back.

He’s thankful that this tender moment is caught on camera so he can rewatch it several more times before he goes to bed.

NOTE - I hope you liked this fic anon!!! At first, I wasn't super confident about writing this or how it'll turn out but I think it turned out nicely ngl :) YALL. I finally got my driver's license. I can drive. Do I know how to? I know the theoretical aspects of it but driving itself? Running a motor vehicle? I have yet to learn (it's on June 20-21 and my dad will teach me until I get better)... I also scarfed down a big spicy bowl of ramen coz I didn't have breakfast this morning <3 Also, It's not rlly embarrassing for me to be writing fics while my parents r sitting at the back (I'm at my living room) but making the border??? Looking for pics of Leon??? It's embarassing for me 😭😭 My dad said that my Chris capcorom looks like a Bánh bò and ngl I kinda see it 😭😭 There's a Japanese mall where I live and I'll be going there tomorrow so hopefully yk there's a copy of any RE book or manga (PLEASEPLEASEPLE) Anyways, that's it and thank you for readings my fics!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The wavy divider was made by @kaitsawamura , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

🖤

Eddie drives you crazy but you can't help that you're also crazy about him. Mia is new to Hellfire and watching Eddie moon over her brings all your barely buried feelings to light...

Warnings: Jealous reader, Jealous Eddie, confessions and sweetness. Kinda enemies to lovers, Eddie is a cocky lil shit in this.

18+, minors shoo!

Don't copy, translate or repost my work.

❤️

You could feel his eyes on you even though he was all the way across the room. Eddie Munson, was quite possibly the bane of your existence. Unbelievably hot yes, but a pain in the ass.

"Ignoring me again princess?" he teases and you glare at him, try to count to five but his smug smirk does nothing to calm you down.

"Bite me dumbass" you huff and Eddie looks delighted. Oh he just loved to get under your skin, wind you up until you were in knots about him.

You hated that he could make you feel like this, that he was the only guy you wanted. Not that you would ever admit it to him.

Even if you did want to kiss him senseless there was no way you were giving in. No way...

❤️

Eddie had been up the new girl in Hellfire's ass all day. She was pretty, into bands and like a female Eddie, according to the rest of Hellfire.

The way he showed off, acting his usual chaotic self to make her laugh, smiling all dimples and goofy charm. It riled you up to no end.

No, you didn't eavesdrop on Hellfire much... Which brought great amusement to Chrissy and Nancy, and frustration to you, when you heard them speak about Eddie and Mia, ugh Mia. She even had a pretty name too.

So you were pissed at Eddie for following her around like a love sick puppy, most of all you were furious at yourself for being jealous in the first place.

Stupid hot metalhead you grumble to yourself and your bad mood darkens even more when Eddie comes up to you, all swagger and his big brown eyes lighting up when he sees you.

You studiously try to ignore him and find your book for your calc homework, Eddie has other ideas and tugs your hair playfully.

Turning to meet him you level him with a glare. "You're such a child Munson" that gets you a little proud smirk.

"Haven't seen you around today princess" you feel flustered that he's noticed but don't show it.

"Surprising you noticed since you've been following the new Hellfire girl around like a puppy" Eddie's smirk widens, he looks like all his Christmas's have come at once.

"You jealous sweetheart?" he seems so smug, you scoff and shut your locker, trying to feign nonchalance.

"As if, I don't care who you want to fuck Munson" you snap and he looks delighted. Fortunately you're saved from further humiliation by Jackson.

Jackson who is part of the dark side that Eddie hates so much. A wicked idea forms in your head. Two can play at your game Munson.

"Hey gorgeous. You coming to my party tonight, got the kegs and a whole liquor cabinet to use" you don't really have any interest in this party but Eddie glaring daggers at Jackson catches your attention.

"Sounds like fun" you touch his shoulder and Jackson is all smiles until he spots Eddie behind you.

"What do you want Munson?'' he spits out and Eddie rolls his eyes and barely looks fazed by Jackson.

"Really princess. This dumb butthead is your type?" he sneers and the venom in his voice has you turning to face him, frustration fills you at his attitude. Why does he care?

"Shouldn't you go find your little girlfriend instead of worrying about me" you hiss at him and that delighted grin is back on his face.

Eddie lowers his head down, whispering in your ear. "We both know that asshole couldn't satisfy you sweetheart. Stop lying to yourself" he sounds so sure of himself and you clench your fists in anger.

"Fuck you Munson, I told you go and find your new girl and leave me alone" he still looks smug and winks at you.

"You're so beautiful when you're pissed off princess" he leaves then and you're still silently fuming.

You know what? A party sounds perfect.

❤️

Yeah... so it turns out the party is a bust from the start. Jackson gets blind drunk, picks a fight with Tommy who's back from college (thrown out according to Steve) and the party is broken up by Hopper.

That's when you made yourself scarce. Nursing a beer and wanting some peace and quiet, you end up at Skull Rock.

It was tiring avoiding Eddie and his pleased little smile whenever he saw you. Exhausting putting out a front that you hated him, that couldn't be further from the truth.

Turns out you're not alone at Skull Rock. After a few minutes you smell the scent of weed, Eddie's cologne as he joins you.

"Did you follow me here?" you scowl and he snorts and lights up a cigarette, there's still tension between the two of you from earlier.

"Don't flatter yourself sweetheart. Party was shit so I thought I'd come here" he's quiet for a few seconds and you can feel him staring at you.

"You know I was only hanging with Mia because she's new to Hellfire. Have to look after my flock" this makes you smile a bit, he sounds like a shepherd.

He growls frustrated when you don't answer and walks over to you.

"I don't want to fuck Mia, she's nice but she's not my type. No my type has to be you doesn't it? prissy, bitchy and you drive me nuts" Traitor tears prick your eyes and you force them back trying to hide your hurt.

"Charming Munson" he softens and tilts your cheek so you look up at him, stubbornly you do and he moves closer to you.

"You're also sweet, beautiful, kind and fiesty as shit and I love that, you're protective of who you love and that's the first thing I fell for"

Oh! you stop fighting what you feel, fighting him and drop your defences. Eddie's confession must have been hard but he did it and it gives you courage to confess how you feel.

"Really?" you ask and hate how hopeful you sound but it's nice just to lean into the feelings instead of always fighting them.

"Yes, hoping I haven't made an ass of myself and you feel the same" he murmurs and you take his hand, fingers brushing over his rings.

He gazes at you intently and his next words make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

"How can you think I'd ever notice anyone else when all I can think about is you" He caresses your cheek and you melt into him.

"I've fallen for you too" you admit and his smile is all knowing, joyous.

"Oh I know baby, been waiting for you to have enough and kiss me" cocky shit. It makes you giggle though and you kiss him.

It's a hot, searing kiss that lasts for what feel like hours and has you and Eddie smiling like absolute idiots.

You had both been idiots but not anymore, Eddie seems to be thinking along the same lines as you and rests his forehead against yours.

"Could have been doing that for ages if you weren't so stubborn princess" you raise your eyebrow. Oh so you were stubborn but not him? You open your mouth to say something about this but Eddie kisses you again.

Oh well... You'd say something later, much much later.

🖤

[svtcrus]

Day Offs. || suguru x sorcerer gn!reader

a/n : some sweet suguru writings to cope with jjk season 2

note : geto and reader are implied sorcerers , and teachers. suggestive writing , h0rny suguru

synopsis : suguru sees you in his attire and can't help himself

having a day off from teaching and exorcizing were lucky days for you. however for your boyfriend a day off was an extremely rare day. but some days, a very rare and incredible lucky day, occurs when you're both off. and that day happened to be today.

you were still half asleep, tiredly sitting up from bed. wincing slightly at the pain coming from your lower back. the crinkled duvet covering your bare body, you scanned your bedroom for a piece of clothing. you looked to the floor which was scattered with clothing, and fallen pillows. the events of last night flashing back into your mind making you blush.

seeing sugurus thrown jujutsu jacket near you, you grabbed it to cover yourself up. it smelt like him, woody but fresh.

getting up, his jacket was long enough to cover down to the mid of your thighs. not thinking much, you made your way out to the kitchen where you could hear the sizzles of your boyfriend's cooking.

the aroma of bacon and sugurus homemade pancakes flowed in your shared little home. in the kitchen was your boyfriend shirtless with a pair of joggers hanging loosely on his lips. v-line showing, and that muscular back of his is littered with your scratch marks. oops.

the warmth of the sun piercing through your windows is making him glow before you.

you walk your way towards him, arms hugging his biceps as you tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. he's still focused on the bacon, but he's grinning at your presence.

"morning baby," he says softly, voice still raspy from waking up so early. he's turning the knobs of the oven off so he can focus all of himself on you. only then does he take in you sporting his work attire, and it's lighting a fire inside him. his eyes widen a slight, admiring at how cute, how ravaging you look right now.

within seconds after his staring he hastily grabs you by your waist, placing you on the countertop. your arms quickly wrap around his neck as he's suddenly kissing you with the same hunger from yesterday. it's full of lust, both of your lips becoming swollen. you moan in the kiss as he's pushing against you for more, hands now trailing up to tangle into his raven hair.

meanwhile his lips then trace down to your jaw, then to your neck where its covered in his lovebites. large hands grabbing your hips, then your bare legs. he is absolutely devouring you.

"mmf-! sugu.. i'm still sore..!" you manage to breathe out, pushing him away with your free hand while the other is covering your red face. suguru looks down at you, eyes dark with want. he smirks at how flustered you are before him.

he gently grabs your hand that's on his bare chest, taking it up to his lips to place a small kiss. his other hand gripping at the edge of the counter as he towers over you.

"I can't help myself lovely, you're here wearing only my jujutsu jacket and a cute pair of underwear... you're all mine." he's leaning in again, whispering in your ear as he places your hand on his shoulder. you shy away, face looking over to the side. suguru giggles at this, kissing your cheek before he backs away. turning around to get two plates from the cabinet.

"you're so mean sugu.." is all you can mutter out, while still sitting on the kitchen counter. watching him as he acts like he wasn't about to have you for breakfast instead of the bacon and pancakes.

"mmm yes yes, now c'mon baby. let's eat yeah? you need to replenish the energy you lost from last night."

"suguru!"

@svtcrus || 08.04.2023

©️ all rights reserved. do not copy / plagiarize or use my work.

[incendiobrock]

Surprise! {Damon Salvatore}

Summary: When no one is answering y/n’s calls or texts, they try their best to figure out what is going on in their friend group. Unaware of some supernatural issues, y/n is met with a surprise that changes their life forever. *This imagine is meant to be set somewhere in season 2ish*

A/N: The ending wasn’t where I was planning on leaving this imagine but I’m trying to clear out my drafts and this was written a year or so ago, so I’m going to leave it like this. Hope you still enjoy!

Warnings: fighting, slight language, mentions of blood, dying (stabbing), graphic

GIF ISN”T MINE CREDS TO OP (for the sake of this imagine pretend that’s Katherine and not Elena)

--------------------------------------------------------------

You knocked lightly on the big wooden door, wondering why no one had been returning your phone calls. No answer, you should’ve known… You tried the metal door knob and shockingly it was unlocked. The heavy door slowly opened into the foyer of the old Victorian mansion. Your shoes made sounds that echoed through the house as they made contact with the wooden floor boards. You glanced around, noticing the deafening silence that filled the space normally filled with chaos. Something wasn’t right.

You were now standing in the living room, taking in your surroundings. Your brows furrowed as you noticed the fire smoldering in the fireplace. There was a dried puddle of blood staining the carpet, nearly three feet in front of you. A full glass of Damon’s bourbon sat discarded on a table.

“Hello?” You called out, now looking down the hallway and towards the stairs to the upper level of the house. You jumped, suddenly hearing a faint bang coming from the opposite end of the hallway. You walked quickly over to the door that led down to the cellar. As you went to push open the door it flew towards you revealing Elena who must’ve been coming back upstairs. “Jesus Elena! You scared the hell out of me!” You yelled, grabbing at your heart as you tried to steady your breathing.

She looked at you slightly confused, “What are you doing here?” Her voice was nearly a whisper. You went to answer her as she made her way in front of you, heading back into the living room. You followed quickly behind, “I have been calling you guys, no one answered me. I started to think something was wrong so I wanted to come see if you guys where here. Where’s Stefan?” It wasn’t unusual to see Elena without Stefan right by her side, but with all the vampire stuff surfacing he tended to try and stay close.

She sat on the sofa, propping her legs up on the table in front of her. “Uh- I think him and Damon went to go help out Bonnie. Something about her needing a grimoire.” She said, swirling around the glass of bourbon in her hands. Was she drinking this early in the day? You walked over and sat down beside her, copying her and placing your feet up on the table as you sunk into the back of the sofa.

“They found the grimoire yesterday, are you feeling okay Elena?” You slightly laughed, leaning over and placing the back of your hand on her forehead, checking for a temperature. Her eyes widened slightly, watching as you retracted your hand from her cold forehead. “Here, you’re freezing.” You said, handing over a blanket that always sat on the back of the sofa. “I’m going to go make you some hot tea.”

As you made your way into the kitchen you shook your head trying to clear your mind. You couldn’t shake the idea that something wasn’t right. After searching through cabinet after cabinet you finally found some tea bags. Chamomile should do, you thought. The metal tea kettle was placed onto the stove top, heating up the water. The buzz of your phone vibrating in your pocket pulled you out of your thoughts.

Elena: Hey, where are you? Sorry for not answering your calls, Damon, Stefan and I have been all around town today.

You felt your heart sink instantly, if Elena was out with Damon and Stefan, who the hell was in the house with you? The tea kettle began to squeal as the water reached a boil. You rushed over and removed it from the stove, dumping the water straight into the sink. You needed to get out of this house immediately.

You reached for your phone once more, trying to quickly send a message to alert your friends what was going on back at their house.

“Someone is here at the house.” Was all you got to type before you heard footsteps come up from behind you. You hit send, letting Elena know before you whipped around to be faced with Elena?

“Y/N? Are you okay?” She asked you now, walking over to you and studying your facial expressions. You took a step back, your back making contact with the cool granite counter top, trapping you between the two.

“W-who are you?” You shakily whispered, tears forming in your eyes. This didn’t feel real.

“Y/n, it’s Elena.” She reassured, holding her hands out to you as if she was cautiously trying to calm you down. You pulled out your phone, showing her the message that “she” had sent you saying she was out with Damon and Stefan. She blinked quickly, shaking her head side to side. A lump formed in your throat waiting for her to speak again. “I don’t- I don’t know who sent that. I don’t have my phone. I promise it’s me. It’s me y/n, please.” She begged. Tears fell down your face as you pulled her into a tight hug.

In the matter of seconds you were shoved up against a wall, Elena’s hand cutting off your air as she squeezed your throat. Dark veins grew beneath her eyes as she smirked, revealing sharp, white fangs. Her teeth sunk into the wrist of her free hand, keeping the other wrapped tightly around your neck. You gasped for air, struggling against her strength that was holding your feet off the ground below. Her head flew back up as her wrist dripped fresh blood onto your shirt, “Drink up.” She grinned as she shoved her bitten wrist into your mouth, forcing you to drink her blood.

Your body dropped to the floor as she released you. You coughed, gagging on the hot, coagulated blood that poured down your throat. “Well, this will be fun.” You heard her voice ring through the air once again. Looking over your shoulder you saw her spinning a knife through her fingers skillfully. She grunted as she pierced the knife straight through your back, causing you to scream out in pain. The knife sliced through you as she yanked it back out. Blood began to spill out of your open mouth as you dropped to lay on your side. She then kicked you in the stomach causing you to lay straight on your back.

“P-please stop.” You cried, pain rushing through your entire body. The last thing you remember was her driving the knife straight through your heart.

—-

A ringing in your head pushed you awake. It was pounding in your skull as your eyes peeled open. Sun poured in through the window of kitchen, burning your skin like a thousand tiny fires. You screamed in agony, practically flying across the room to a wall that was void from the direct sunlight. The dryness you felt in your mouth, along with the pounding of your head and the intense feeling of fear overwhelmed you. Your body shook as you laid down, curling into a ball against the wall. Tears wracked through you as you remembered everything that happened, all the pain that you felt when Elena stabbed you with a knife. Elena stabbed you…

“Y/n?” Through your blurry vision you made out Elena’s form.

“Get away from me!” You screamed, crying loudly as you backed further into the wall. She rushed over to you, concern written all over her face as she knelt to your level. She quickly noticed the blood stains all over your shirt, paying extra attention to the dried blood around your lips. “Leave me alone! Stop it!” You thrashed around as she reached out to touch you. Stefan ran around the corner, watching as you coward away from Elena. She listened to your cries stepping away, and turning towards Stefan, silently asking him for an explanation. Before he could speak Damon used his vampire speed and zipped to your side, pulling your disheveled body into his strong arms. He heard your cries from outside the house and he felt the biggest rush of adrenaline to get to your side immediately. “Hey, hey, I got you. Shhh.” He whispered, stroking your hair as you cried into his shoulder.

Stefan and Elena watched painfully as you were cradled in Damon’s arms. “What’s happened?” Damon softly spoke up again. In between sobs you tried to inform him why you were so terrified, “E-Elena tried to- to k-kill me.”

“Oh shit.” He mumbled, pressing his lips to the top of your head as he continued to rock you gently. He glanced back at his brother, knowing that they were thinking the exact same thing. “Katherine.” Damon said.

Damon carefully helped you stand up, insisting that he take you up to his bed where he could explain to you that Elena wasn’t the one who initiated this attack. You weakly clung to him as you hobbled towards the stairs. Passing through the living room, your skin ignited in flames again as you passed by a window. You let out another blood curdling scream, Damon swiftly picking you and placing out of the suns harmful ways. His eyes softened as he examined your face closely. That’s when Damon realized that Katherine hadn’t tried to kill you, she did kill you. You were dead, and it was all his fault. He hadn’t answered your calls or your messages asking where he was earlier in the day. By the time he made it back home, it was too late. You were a vampire.

“Come on sweetheart, let me take you to my room please.” You nodded in response as he re-scooped you into his arms, rushing you into his room where he laid you on the bed, using his vamp speed to shut all the curtains before the light caused you anymore pain. Damon made his way into a small box that he had hidden away in a drawer in his bathroom. He pulled it out, removing the lid carefully as he sifted through the jewelry inside. Being alive for a hundred plus years has caused him to come across a decent amount of antiques, including some jewelry. One of these antiques being a ring that originally belonged to his mother which he held closely to his heart. It was silver, with small engravings throughout the band. Damon had been saving it for someone special.

“Damon?” You spoke up, as you watched him intently. His crystal blue eyes made contact with yours, “I’m so hungry.” Was all you could get yourself to say, feeling your stomach twist into knots at the thought of being fed. Although, you weren’t too sure that it was food you were craving.

Of course, how could he forget? You needed blood to complete your transformation. Not that he had ever wanted you to go through this... He sighed, placing the ring down on the bathroom counter, dreading that he would have to tell you that you didn’t “almost die” but rather were unwillingly turned into a blood sucking entity like himself. He had come to terms with being a vampire, almost not being able to think about living any other way. However, he remembered how he felt back when he was freshly turned and how long it took him to accept his inevitable fate. That was something that he would have never wished upon you.

“I’ll be right back okay, stay here.” He demanded, leaving you behind and coming back with a blood bag. You sat up in his bed as he sat down besides you, handing over the bag. The smell that filled your nose was almost irresistible. It smelt like the sweetest, richest dessert, like the biggest Thanksgiving feast. Veins began to ripple under your eyes as your fangs sprouted for the first time. Hesitantly, you brought the blood bag up to your lips, sucking in the contents of the bag. You moaned at the taste as the blood trickled down your throat. In only a couple seconds you had finished off the bag, pulling it back from your lips. Then, it hit you. The burning in the sun, the intense emotions and feelings of pain, the sudden insatiable hunger…

“I’m dead.” You gasped out, dropping the empty blood bag onto the bed sheets. Damon placed his hands on either side of your face gently, turning you to look at him.

“I’m so sorry y/n… I should’ve been here to save you.”

You felt like a monster. Sure, you didn’t think that Stefan and Damon were monsters, but you didn’t know how to control yourself the way that they could. The veins began to form under your eyes again as you thought about blood.

“Katherine isn’t going to get away with this. I swear to God, she’s dead next time I see her. How dare she take away your life like this…” Damon ranted, feeling the rage that you did about your unexpected death.

A knock on Damon’s bedroom door made you both look towards it. “Damon?” It was Stefan. Damon let his brother in, Bonnie following closely behind. Bonnie was your good friend, and it took everything in you to not rush over and drink her blood. Not because you wanted to drink her blood, but because you felt so hungry and something almost caused you to do it anyways.

You focused in on your breathing to distract you from your hunger, watching as Damon passed Bonnie a ring. She took it in her hand and went and opened up a curtain, light pouring in and landing a few inches before you in bed. Bonnie began to mumble out a spell as the ring sat in the light. “Done.” She said, reopening her eyes and tossing the ring back to Damon. You could tell she was upset, she had blamed Damon for everything supernatural that was happening to her and her friends. To her, he was bad news. She couldn’t even look at you in your state, feeling as though the friend that she once knew was long gone.

After she rushed out of the room, and Stefan rushed after her, Damon came back to your side. “Here, let’s put this on.” You placed your hand in his as he held it out to you, using his other hand he gently slipped the ring onto your finger. Damon hated his mother, but he had to admit that giving his mother’s ring to you made him feel a certain type of way.

“I don’t know how to do this Damon…” You whispered, admiring the new daylight ring that you were given.

“That’s why I’m here. I left you once, I’m not doing it again. I’ll help you get through this… I love you.” The latter end of his sentence barely made it past his lips, he had never shared his feelings for you out loud. He wanted to tell you how he felt for months, but he didn’t want to scare you away. He couldn’t help but notice though that your heart would always beat a little bit faster when he would arrive, and how your face would flush when he playfully flirted with you.

“You what?” Maybe you were hearing things, although you considered it was highly impossible due to your new hearing abilities.

“I love you y/n. I have for awhile now.” He said again, this time at a normal level which proved that you hadn’t misheard the words that had fallen past his lips. Before you knew what was happening, you leaned in connecting your lips together. The way you both melted into the other was almost enough to kill you for the second time today. It was passionate, and desperate, but so gentle at the same time. As you pulled back apart you couldn’t help but smile, resting your forehead against his.

“I love you too Damon.”

“Well, isn’t this just the sweetest. Now you guys can truly spend the rest of eternity together.” Damon shot up out of bed shoving the girl you now know as Katherine into the wall behind her.

“What are you doing here? I told you to leave.” He spat out, a death grip held around her throat. You watched as she chuckled to herself, amused that she got such a rise out of him. He felt his knuckles growing white as he squeezed the life out of her body.

“Surprise!” She said hoarsely, an evil grin still etched onto her face. This all felt so eerie to you, Katherine and Elena looked completely identical. No wonder you thought that she was Elena, anyone would without some extra context. 

[machveil]

General König Headcanons

just some personal thoughts I have about him as a person

he’s very organized, everything he owns has a place and if it’s not in it’s place he throws a fit

why is his coffee table moved over an inch? who did this? it’s not lined up perfectly with the couch anymore >:( and his coaster is missing! ruins his mood for an hour

and it’s noticeable when he lives alone if something is off. he lives extremely minimalistic. he has the bare bones essentials, the only decorations are things he’s super interested in (a bookshelf absolutely bloated with original copies of historical and military books, a display case with antique weapons, etc)

that changes if he has a pet, but I talked about that already here

as much as he likes to keep his home organized and neat, he’s artificially clean I’m so sorry

yes, his home looks spotless… that said, if he wipes up a little spill with a paper towel he’s definitely the type to rinse it under the faucet, squeeze it out, and let’s it dry if the spill wasn’t ‘that bad’. yes, it’s gross, but “look, I can use it again, Maus.”. you have to keep an eye out for him when he cleans stuff because he cuts corners sometimes

only dusts things he specifically uses - his desk, the coffee table, the cabinet by his front door. he neglects to clean his bedside table. coated in a lining of dust except for a rectangle patch where he keeps his latest book. forgets that he should definitely clean his computer keyboard and phone screen. complains about allergies but it’s “only in my house” - denies that the dust is the problem. is pleasantly surprised his allergies magically went away after you dusted everything for him… still denies the dust was the problem, his immune system ‘just kicked in’

always forgets that his vacuum doesn’t have infinite storage. the first time you went to empty it all the lint and dust in the cage didn’t come out because it was so compressed. he’s broken at least one vacuum before because the cage broke (yes, all the gross contents spilled out onto his floor, he was pissed for a week)

if you ever become his roommate prepare to be cleaning. it’s not that he doesn’t clean, it’s just that’s his version of clean is… “look, everything is spotless— don’t open the closet”

that said, he always changes the batteries in the fire alarm, always makes sure the fire extinguisher under the sink is within it’s expiration date, and double checks all doors and windows are locked at night - cleaning he’ll side-eye, safety he’s dead staring at

if you, for any reason, get wigged out because “König, I think I saw something move outside :(“ he wouldn’t hesitate to buy a security system. it’s not for him, he’s built like a behemoth, it’s entirely to ease your mind

definitely buys a ring doorbell so he can talk to you when you’re coming in (“don’t forget to lock the door behind you, Maus.”)

[zer0wzs]

𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨

[ gn!reader ] "practice it, even once a week," it even works with sleep—especially you have something motivating you. based off of this classic reddit post. wc: 1521

AN: not at all proofread my apologies lol

There have been a couple of changes in your life since the first month that Jason moved in with you.

For one, the little trinkets that were scattered everywhere seemed to be a little more neater, a little more lined up. You’ll find that your small figures were playing out a scene. You don’t know why they’re like that, but Jason seems to know. 

Your apartment’s been plenty more storage-efficient. This was largely to help Jason store his expansive collection of books, but it helped you, too. The drawers, shelves, and cabinets the two of you have thrifted and renovated together make it seem more to both of your liking—rather than it just being yours.

Above these small things, though, you two seem to always never have enough time with each other, even after the move.

Needless to say, time isn’t always in your favor when you’re vigilant or with the Red Hood. Date nights are suddenly postponed or canceled, patrols keep him until the early hours of the morning, and—at worst—missions have you two apart from one another for weeks, maybe even months.

This makes you two take pleasure in the small things. Whatever little thing you two can keep to yourselves, whatever fragment of time is offered to you two, you will selfishly hold onto. It's the only thing you can ever hold onto.

That’s why you always hold onto Saturdays. You can wake up as late as you want and still know that he’s probably there. You’d find him cleaning his guns, cozied on the couch reading a book, watching a cheesy romcom, or cooking you breakfast. That’s how it's always been when you spent time at each other’s apartments, and the same thing has happened until now.

That’s your first thought as you wake—or, well first few thoughts. Checking the time on your phone, you see it’s 11 AM. Earlier than your usual time of waking, but you should still probably get up.

There isn’t much noise ringing through your ears, save for a few footsteps you heard through the ajar room of your bedroom. Still a little drowsy, you made your way to the bathroom to tidy yourself up.

After rinsing your face with soap and getting the grime out of the crevices of your skin, you grabbed your toothbrush and pumped your toothpaste on it. As you brushed your teeth, though, your mind better register a faint humming—no, singing—from down the hallway.

Well, it can’t be anyone else, no?

After freshening yourself up, you go to your living room only to be greeted by tranced Jason—fixated on his slightly worn copy of All The Lovers in the Night. There’s some old dad rock music playing softly by him. You stand there, leaning against the edge of the hallway, before your presence is acknowledged.

“Good morning,” he greeted, using a random receipt he had to bookmark his page before the book aside. “You’re up early.”

“I know.” You hummed, finding a place beside him on the couch and giving him a good morning kiss on the cheek.

You find him smiling at the action, ruffling your hair and pulling you closer by the waist. “Are you up for any particular reason? Miss me?”

“Mmh, sure.” You grab his coffee perched on the table and take a sip. “Ew.”

He laughs. “What do you mean ‘ew’? Baby, that’s always how I’ve made my coffee.”

“I know, I know,” you rolled your eyes. “I thought that was gonna be the new three-in-one packet we got.”

“I don’t like three-in-one,” he hums. “Or at least I’m not in the mood for it.”

“Guess I’ll have to brew a cup for myself. I really wanna try it out.”

“Can I have a sip?” He asked, leaning into your shoulder.

“No.” You half-jokingly replied, snaking your hand up his hair to ruffle it.

“Come on.”

“Let’s see.”

And so that’s how Saturdays would go for you two. Jason would usually start his day at 7, 6, and sometimes even 5 AM, depending on how hectic his workload was. He’d freshen up, brew some coffee, and then usually get to his work.

If he did work, he always took a short breather between 10 to 11, usually spending the time to read. If he didn’t, he’d spend the morning cleaning the apartment or making breakfast.

You find yourself stirring awake. What time is it? It feels too early to be up right now.

You check the time on your phone. 10:42. Never mind.

You stretched out, basking in the sun that escapes through the fabric and small gaps of the translucent curtains. You blink a few times before deciding it's time to get up and freshen up. Grabbing a change of clothes, you head to your bathroom.

As you continued your morning routine, you could hear music ringing softly throughout the apartment. Along with that, you hear Jason singing along to it. With that, you open the door a little wider while you brush your teeth.

Before you can even process that your feet are carrying you outside the bathroom, Jason’s already greeting your presence in the dining area. “Good morning,” You wave in return. “You want anything for breakfast?”

You shake your head in reply and find your place beside him by the table, reading a book. You lean your head on his shoulder, trying to follow whatever he’s reading. The fast reader he is, he flips the page before you can even get a full sentence in.

In the corner of his eye, he can still see how drowsy you were. He checks in. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Still a little sleepy.”

“You know, you can still go to bed if you want. I’m not sure why you’re up earlier than usual.” He pouted, craning his head to look at you. “You’re not pushing yourself for whatever reason, right?”

“No, I just…woke up,” you reply dryly. “Like I woke up and thought, ‘might as well,’ you know?”

“Okay, okay,” he smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead. “You want a coffee?”

“Mmm, sure.”

“Alright,” he nods, kissing your forehead before getting up to heat up some water. “The three-in-one?”

“Yes, please.”

Maybe it's your way of saying that you miss him. Between the night patrols and days-to-months-long missions that he goes on, you find yourself waking up a little earlier. 11 AM turns into 10 AM turns into even 9 and 8 AM on the weekends.

It’s 7:51 AM. Last night may have been hectic, but you got some sleep in. A few weeks ago, you would’ve slept in and woke up at 1 PM, but god doesn’t grant you enough time to hit your napping time and spending-time-with-Jason quotas. You have to sacrifice one, and your body knows which one you’re choosing.

“Morning, babe,” Jason greets from the kitchen, cooking up a breakfast for the two of you.

He doesn’t tease you any more about waking up so early. In fact, he doesn’t even push you to go back to bed anymore. He knows it only really makes you feel bad for getting some sleep. He’s more than picked up these changes in the morning and accommodates you to his schedule with ease. 

You feel more than love. You feel his affection wholeheartedly. It’s almost overwhelming, but you figure you’re never getting enough of it anyway.

“Hello…” You mumble from behind him, sliding your hands up his chest. You smell the spicy scent of seasoning from his cooking. ”Missed you.”

“Missed you too.” He smiles, pulling you to his side. 

You stand in silence for a bit, too sleepy to continue the conversation sensibly and letting only the sound of the searing pan fill the room.

Yet you start. “Are you doing anything or going anywhere today?”

“No, not really,” he answers. “Why? You wanna do something?”

“No, not really,” you copy his tone, not really implying any sort of mocking. “I just wanna spend time with you.”

He laughs a little. “Clingy.”

“Thanks,” you roll your eyes. “Do you need help with anything?”

“Hmm,” he pauses for a split second to think. “Set the table for me, won’t ya? I’m almost done.”

“Alright.”

Warmth is the first thing you feel. A great, weighted warmth encasing you in your sleep. It wasn’t too early, as you felt the bright rays of the sun shine down and pierce through your closed eyes. Clearly, Jason should be more than awake by now.

Eyes closed, you whisper to the big bear of a man holding on to you for dear life. “Mmh, what time is it?”

Nothing from him in return. You lay a few kisses on his arm, hoping to wake him up, even a little.

“Love?” You hummed, reaching out for your phone to check the time. Your phone’s brightness blinds you, but as long as you can sleep in peace after this, you’re fine. “It’s 7:32. Shouldn’t you be up by now?”

You hear him mumble a few things, mostly incoherent, but you can at least make out his little, “Mmh, five more minutes.”

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　PERIOD DISTURB

spencer reid x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N's cramps decide to appear during the night, forcing her to go to the pharmacy to buy medicine; or not, that's Spencer's duty.

WARNING: Period cramps, extremely fluff.

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: First time finally posting for Spencer. Had that idea during the night while being almost killed by my period 🙏🏻😭

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The room was quiet and dark, bathed in the soft, silver light of the moon filtering through the curtains. Y/N lay in bed, cocooned under the covers, her body curled in on itself as a dull, persistent pain radiated through her abdomen. Her breathing was shallow, each exhale a quiet, measured release that belied the turmoil of discomfort brewing inside her.

Spencer's arm was draped protectively over her, his body warm and solid against her back, his slow, rhythmic breathing, the only sound in the room. Despite his reassuring presence, Y/N couldn't shake the pain that twisted her insides like a vise, each cramp rolling over her in relentless waves.

She shifted slightly, trying to find a position that would offer some relief, but the movement only seemed to intensify the discomfort. Y/N bit down on her lower lip, stifling a groan that threatened to slip past. The last thing she wanted was to wake Spencer. He had only returned home a few hours ago, exhausted from a grueling case that had kept him away for days. He needed the rest, and she couldn't bear the thought of disturbing his well-deserved sleep.

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes softening as they landed on his peaceful, sleeping form. His face was relaxed, free of the lines of worry and stress that so often creased his brow. His hair was tousled, his lips slightly parted, and he looked so serene, so utterly at peace, that Y/N felt a pang of guilt for even considering waking him.

Carefully, she began to extricate herself from his embrace, inch by inch, her movements slow and deliberate. She held her breath, pausing each time Spencer stirred slightly, her eyes fixed on his face, waiting for any sign that he was waking up. When his breathing remained steady, she continued, finally slipping free from the warmth of his body.

The room was cooler outside the cocoon of blankets, and a shiver ran through her as her feet touched the cold floor. Y/N pressed a hand to her abdomen, wincing at the sharp twinge of pain that followed. She needed to get to the pharmacy to pick up some painkillers that would help dull the ache enough for her to get some rest.

She moved quietly across the room, gathering a pair of sweatpants and an old sweater from Spencer from their shared closet. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled the sweater over her head, the fabric catching on her hair. She grimaced, tugging it down and slipping her feet into her sneakers, each movement sending a jolt of pain through her abdomen.

Y/N made her way to the door, pausing to glance back at Spencer, still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm. She felt a pang of affection mixed with guilt, knowing she should have taken care of this sooner, knowing that she should have restocked her medicine cabinet days ago. But life had been busy, and she had been distracted. Now, she was paying the price.

Just as her hand reached for the doorknob, Spencer’s voice, thick with sleep, cut through the silence like a knife.

"Y/N?" He mumbled, his voice groggy and confused. "Where are you going?"

Y/N froze, her heart skipping a beat. She turned to find Spencer propping himself up on one elbow, his eyes still heavy with sleep, blinking at her in the dim light. His brow was furrowed, concern already etching lines into his features as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Hi baby... I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you." She said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’m just going to run to the pharmacy real quick. I’ll be back before you know it."

Spencer’s puppy eyes widened slightly, the fog of sleep clearing as worry took its place.

"The pharmacy?" He repeated, his voice hoarse. "What’s going on? Why do you need to go to the pharmacy at this hour?"

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. She hated making him worry and hated seeing the lines of concern deepen on his face. But she also knew there was no use in hiding the truth. Spencer was too perceptive for that.

"I’m having really bad cramps." She admitted, her voice laced with a hint of the pain she was trying to suppress. "I ran out of painkillers, and I just need to get some so I can sleep."

Spencer’s expression shifted immediately, his concern morphing into something more protective, more determined. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, pushing himself upright.

"What? Honey, you’re not going anywhere." He said firmly, his voice still thick with sleep but gaining strength. He stood up, his tall frame looming over her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Not in this pain, and not in the middle of the night. You should be lying down, resting, not wandering around, looking for medicine."

Y/N blinked at him, momentarily taken aback by the force of his response.

"Spencer, it’s really okay." She began, trying to sound reassuring. "I can handle it. I didn’t want to wake you because you need your rest. I’ll just go quickly and-"

"No." Spencer interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. He crossed the room in a few strides, his hands coming to rest gently on her shoulders, guiding her away from the door. "You shouldn’t have to handle this alone, and you definitely shouldn’t be out there at this time of night, especially when you’re in pain." His hands slid up to cup her face, his thumbs brushing lightly over her cheeks. "I’m going to go get what you need, okay? You stay here and rest."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the concern that softened his features, the gentle resolve that made her heart ache with love.

"Spence, I don’t want to be a burden." She said quietly, her voice wavering. "You’ve been working so hard, and I just didn’t want to trouble you."

Spencer’s expression softened even more, a small, affectionate smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You could never be a burden, love." He said softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to her forehead. "Taking care of you isn’t trouble. It’s what I want to do. Please, let me do this for you."

Tears pricked at the corners of Y/N’s eyes, the warmth of his words seeping into her and mixing with her period emotions, soothing more than just the physical pain. She nodded slowly, unable to find the words to express what she was feeling. Spencer’s smile widened, relief washing over his features. He pressed another kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back.

"Okay." He said, his voice gentle. "Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to lie back down, and I’m going to heat up your hot water bottle. Then I’ll run to the pharmacy, and when I get back, I’ll make you some tea. Deal?"

Y/N couldn’t help the small, grateful smile that spread across her face.

"Deal." She agreed softly. She allowed Spencer to guide her back to the bed, his hands gentle but firm as he helped her settle under the covers.

He moved to the closet, pulling out the hot water bottle they kept for days like this, his movements efficient and practiced. As he moved, Y/N watched him, her heart swelling with love and gratitude. Even in the early hours of the morning, groggy with sleep, he was focused, his only concern making sure she was comfortable.

When he returned from the kitchen, he carefully placed the bottle over her abdomen, the soothing heat immediately offering some relief. Y/N sighed softly, closing her eyes as the warmth seeped into her muscles, easing the tension that had been building for hours.

Spencer sat on the edge of the bed, his hand resting lightly on the warmth provived, his eyes studying her face for any signs of discomfort.

"Better?" He asked quietly, his voice gentle.

Y/N nodded, her eyes fluttering open to meet his.

"Much better." She murmured, reaching out to take his hand. "Thank you, Spence."

Spencer smiled, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

"Don’t thank me yet." He said softly. "I’ll be back in a bit. Just rest, okay?" He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her plump lips, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

Y/N watched as he slipped on his shoes, grabbed his keys, and headed for the bedroom door, casting one last glance at her before he disappeared into the hallway.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Y/N lay back against the pillows, a sense of calm washing over her. The pain was still there, a dull ache beneath the warmth of the bottle, but Spencer’s presence, his care, had made it more bearable. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax, knowing that he would be back soon.

It wasn’t long before the door creaked open, and Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to see Spencer stepping back into the room, a small bag in his hand. He moved quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace, his eyes softening as they met hers.

"Hi, sweetheart. I’m back." He whispered, his voice a soothing balm. He set the bag on the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of painkillers and a bottle of water.

Spencer moved with the gentle precision of someone who knew every corner of the room, even in the dim light. He popped open the bottle of painkillers and shook two tablets into his hand. His gaze never left Y/N's face, his eyes filled with concern and care. He handed her the pills, then uncapped the water, holding it steady as she sat up slightly to take a sip.

Y/N swallowed the pills, her throat dry despite the water. Spencer's hand lingered on hers, his touch warm and reassuring. She gave him a grateful smile, feeling the tension in her muscles ease under his touch. He set the water bottle back on the nightstand and then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. The gesture was so tender, so full of love, that it made Y/N’s heart ache in the best possible way.

"Thank you, Spence." She murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Spencer’s eyes softened, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek.

"You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. I just want to make sure you’re okay." He leaned back, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand still resting on her arm. "I’m sorry you’re in pain. I wish I could do more to help."

Y/N shook her head, her eyes shining.

"You being here helps more than you know. Just having you with me makes everything better." She reached up, her fingers grazing the stubble on his jaw, her touch gentle. "I’m so lucky to have you."

Spencer’s expression softened, his eyes searching hers. He took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

"I’m the lucky one." He whispered, his voice low and sincere. "You’re everything to me, Y/N. Taking care of you isn’t a burden. It’s a privilege."

Y/N smiled softly, pulling Spencer down beside her, needing to feel his warmth, to be close to him. He settled against her, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her close. Y/N rested her head on his chest, her ear over his heart, listening to the steady, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. His other hand found its way to her hair, his fingers running through the strands in a soothing, repetitive motion.

They lay like that for a while, the quiet of the night wrapping around them like a blanket. The pain in Y/N’s abdomen was still there, but it felt distant, overshadowed by the warmth and safety of Spencer’s embrace. She closed her eyes, her body relaxing against his, her breathing slowing to match his. With every beat of his heart, with every gentle stroke of his hand, she felt herself drifting closer to sleep, the pain dulling under the weight of his love.

Spencer held her close, his chin resting on the top of her head, his eyes closed. He listened to her breathing, felt the rise and fall of her chest against his, and felt a sense of peace settle over him. It was moments like this, quiet and intimate, that he cherished the most. Knowing that he could be there for her, that he could offer her comfort, made him feel whole.

After a while, Y/N’s breathing deepened, the tension in her body easing as sleep claimed her. Spencer continued to hold her, his hand never stopping its gentle movement through her hair. He pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, his heart full.

"I love you." He whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "More than life ifself."

Y/N stirred slightly, a soft, sleepy murmur escaping her lips, but she didn’t wake. Spencer smiled, his heart swelling with affection. He knew that she probably didn’t hear him, but that was okay. He would have plenty of opportunities to tell her again and again.

He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, the digital numbers glowing softly in the dark. It was well past two in the morning, but Spencer didn’t care. He could stay like this forever, with Y/N in his arms, the world outside forgotten.

Spencer lay there, his thoughts drifting, his hand continuing its gentle motion through Y/N’s hair. He knew that the painkillers would kick in soon, that she would wake up feeling better. And when she did, he would be there, ready to make her breakfast, to share a quiet morning together before the rest of the world intruded.

As the minutes ticked by, Spencer’s own eyes grew heavy, the events of the day catching up to him. But he fought against the pull of sleep, wanting to stay awake, to be there for Y/N if she needed him. He tightened his hold on her slightly, his hand slipping from her hair to rest against her back, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

Eventually, his own exhaustion won out, and he drifted into a light sleep, his body still curled protectively around Y/N. Even in sleep, his mind stayed attuned to her, his senses alert for any sign of distress. But there was none. The painkillers had done their job, and Y/N slept soundly, her body relaxed and at ease.

The night passed quietly, the room filled with the soft sounds of their breathing, the steady ticking of the clock, the occasional rustle of the sheets as one of them shifted. The world outside remained silent, the streets empty, the city asleep. Inside their little haven, time seemed to stand still, wrapped in the cocoon of their love.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[cyclesprefectpress]

[image description: photos of The Disco Elysium Tarot, printed letterpress in an edition of one from handset lead type and linoleum blocks. It is a complete 78-card tarot deck printed primarily with white text and illustrations on medium grey cardstock, in a custom dark grey hardcase box with a hand-marbled orange and yellow endsheet. The backs of the deck are decorated with an illustration of a sprig of may bells, and a quote from Smallest Church in Saint-Saëns: "None of this matters at all." The interpretive meaning of each card is expressed on its face with a small excerpt of the game's text. The Minor Arcana are divided into four suits of Harry's Attributes—Motorics, Psyche, Physique, Intellect—and each card in that suit is a quote from a skill under that Attribute. The Major Arcana are assigned quotes from other sources like NPC dialogue or Thought Cabinet problems & solutions. Pips for the Minors are counted with diamonds like the game's skill points; each actor or title is printed with their in-game color, but made shiny & metallic with bronzing powder.

each piece of text was set in handset lead type, assembled from individual pieces for each letter and space, and printed relief on a chandler & price clamshell press. end description.]

🎊🎊 Desert Bus for Hope starts for 2023 on nov. 11th and i have made an item this year for the craftalong that will be up for giveaway between 6am-12pm on Monday the 13th! 🎊🎊 It is a full tarot deck based on Disco Elysium and it has several pieces of my heart & soul in it but NOT my blood because i put a bandaid right on that :) donations for this and any other auctions & giveaways for Desert Bus go to Child's Play Charity.

notes: i did not make a whole new interpretive model for this deck, apologies, that was outside of my scope. it's generally compatible with a Rider-Waite model, with Motorics for Wands, Psyche for Cups, Physique for Swords, and Intellect for Disks. (full distribution of text listed by card, linked below. any spelling or transcription errors you find there, i promise i fixed them in print—that's copied from my digital mockup which was copied hastily from screenshots.)

i also do not track hours on these kinds of projects because that way lies madness, but i will say: i knew how much time it would take to print it. it was a lot but i was not worried about it, i know how to print. i was very worried about how much time it would take to absorb the sheer amount of text, and distribute it across the cards, and really get an array i believe in. i was right to worry, and i have absolutely had a few anxious nightmares about discovering the Perfect excerpt that should've gone in and i missed it, and the suit of Intellect made me want to lay on the floor a few times, but still! i believe there's many versions of a deck you could make from this game and this one is a good one.

i think the Minors fit really well with the double-edged sword of Harry's skills, their advice, their priorities. the circular way the Fool-World assignment works out makes me smile every time. The colors on The Star came out so nice. i think Justice fulfills some of my favorite things about Kim's character & purpose in the story. i worried sometimes that editing to such short clips would lose too much of the politics of the game, but of course you can't really take them out and they're especially present in the Majors—the Devil and the Hierophant, The Star and The Sun. i've wanted to design a tarot deck for years and i love this game deeply and i let this idea percolate for a few months and it never stopped making me laugh so here it is, & given a beautiful purpose :)

i also literally could not have done this without xyrilin's Disco Reader and the FAYDE On-Air Playback Experiment to navigate the dialogue and skill checks. Really couldn’t have tied the whole concept & colophon in its final bow without the Disco Reader :)) thank thank thank, they're so fun to investigate that it was honestly very difficult to focus on my task instead of veering off and exploring every branch in an extremely disorganized way.

actual printing went well honestly, very few problems! i think that means i'm getting pretty good at planning one of these monstrosities, although perhaps it also means i'm not challenging myself enough. hmm. no that's silly there's 78 ding dang cards in this thing. anyway the drop & replace formes worked well, no registration issues. mum convinced me to overprint another half a deck's worth of cards when I was printing backs & borders and of course she was right :/ there were a handful of cards that actually had better line breaks and fewer lines total in true type than in the digital mockup, so i needed all the spares I had to put those new short quotes into the appropriate border breakage. next time i will not question her.

handset in Garamond, Eden Bold, and secret Neuland.

WIP : full text card assignments

bonus photo of the kind of trash notes i always take to plan things like how many borders were printed with space for short excerpts vs long excerpts, and how many of those are majors vs. minors, because they have a slightly different frame at the bottom edge, etc.

[image description: they are truly garbage notes, i tell you. half of it is written at angles to the other half, many numbers in the math problems are not labeled, mistakes are scribbled over. it gets me there but it doesn't look pretty. end description.]

[literaryavenger]

Love Is A Battlefield

Summary: Bucky gets hurt during a mission and you can't help but blame yourself.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language cause why not. Mentions of Bucky's past. Injuries. Overprotective reader. Description of violence. Fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: This was inspired by this post and a dream I had lol. I couldn't help but start writing and this is what came out. Enjoy.

Masterlist

"Who the fuck do you think you’re calling a bitch, you ass?" you sneer at the guy to your left right before kicking him in the stomach and then bringing his head down on your knee when he doubles over, effectively knocking him out.

"Language!" you hear in you earpiece and roll your eyes.

"Why don’t you shut the fuck up, Rogers." you tell him while making your way through the corridor, taking Hydra agents down as you go.

"Can’t you do this without cursing so much?!" he sounds more exasperated at you than at the agents he’s supposed to keep distracted outside.

"Can’t you stop bitching in my ear? I’m a little busy here!" all he answers with is a groan and you know you won this round.

You hear Sam crackling before he says "1-0 to Y/N." which makes you laugh.

"Thanks, Sammy."

"Anytime, baby." you roll your eyes at his nickname, the small distraction allowing an agent to get too close to you and you feel a sharp pain in your forearm and almost drop your gun.

"Shit!" you hiss at the pain and zero in on the idiot that cut you.

You can hear the concerned voices in your ear, but don’t allow yourself to get distracted again as you take care of the last few agents on your side of the building.

"Y/N, are you okay? What’s happening? Can someone get to her?" you hear Bucky’s voice for the first time since the mission started and you can’t help the warm feeling it brings, the concern in his voice making you answer almost immediately.

"Just give me a minute!" you say as you battle the last guy standing.

Once you’ve successfully knocked him out, you take a second to breathe before addressing the voices still coming to your ear while you make your way through the maze of corridors in this Hydra base.

"I’m okay guys, but apparently all these people have some sort of collective knife kink." you say and you can hear Steve’s annoyed groan and the rest of the team’s laughter as you check out your cut. Not too deep, you think to yourself.

You think you hear a relieved sigh between the laughter, but almost instantly forget about it as you finally come to the door you’ve been looking for.

"Clint, status?" you ask him since he’s on the roof, being the eyes on the whole operation.

"Everyone’s thoroughly distracted out here." he answers.

"Good. James, Sam, are you done with the explosives?" you can hear Sam grunting as you enter the room, locating the computer you need and turning it on.

"Just a second!" Sam says, you hear a couple of punches landing and then "Done. This place is ready to blow as soon as you have the files."

"And hurry, we can’t hold them off forever." Steve adds.

"Inserting the USB now, I need at least 5 minutes for the download to finish. Friday, remember to copy Hill at Shield HQ and to save the files in the Avengers private server." you tell the AI as you make your way through the office, grabbing files that seem important as the digital ones download.

"Really? Why the private server?" Steve asks between punches.

"Because, Captain Dumbass, these files could contain sensitive information about one of our own. We have to be careful with them." you say while still looking through the cabinets of papers.

"Do you have to be so mean to me?" he almost whines.

"Hey, it’s your best friend that I’m looking out for." you say almost laughing.

"Yeah, I’m sure it’s me you’re doing this for." You can basically hear the smirk in Steve’s voice but before you can answer, Natasha cuts in.

"Are you two done bickering?" she says annoyed.

"Oh no, please, let them keep going, this is so entertaining." Tony comments, but you get distracted from the conversation when you find a black box in one of the desk drawers that was previously locked, you open it and can’t help the gasp that escapes you. Bucky’s dog tags.

"Guys… do we have to blow up this base?" you ask, quieter than you’d like, leaving everyone else confused. Between all of the “what”s you hear Steve say your name.

"You know the drill, we download the digital files, save as much of the paper ones as we can and then blow the building up. This one’s no different." he tells you, but you can’t help but disagree.

"I think it is…" you can hear them asking you to explain, so you do, trying to find the right way to say this "I think… I think this is the first base they took James to." you say, still talking quietly but loud enough for them to hear.

The comms go silent, everyone processing what you just say, only the sound of battling going on, but you’re only worried about one person.

"James?"

Nothing.

"James, are you okay?" you can’t help but worry, his silence snapping you out of the trance you were in, you close the box you were still staring at and put it safely in your pocket, your hand going to your ear instinctively.

"Bucky?!" He still doesn’t answer.

You hear a bip behind you and Friday lets you know the download is complete, you take the drive and make your way out, your worry only increasing with every step.

"Does anyone have eyes on Barnes?" you ask the rest of the team.

"Oh no." Clint says, and you stop immediately, your heart beating out of your chest.

"What?! You can’t just say ‘oh no’ and not elaborate, Barton!" your mind is going into overdrive, not knowing what to expect.

"I have eyes on him, but you’re not gonna like it."

"What do you mean, Clint?! just say it!" this time Steve is the one to snap at him.

"He’s getting surrounded, it looks like he’s passed out." you swear you can actually feel your heart stopping.

"Can anybody get to him?" you say desperately.

"He’s got maybe 2 minutes before he’s surrounded, everybody’s too far or too busy." yeah, Clint’s really not giving you any good news today.

"Can’t you help him out?!" you almost yell at him.

"Not without hurting him, there are just too many!" he sounds more worried with every word and you know it’s bad. "Technically you’re the closest." He informs you and you frown.

"What do you mean, technically?" You look out the window of the corridor you found yourself in, looking towards the roof and find Clint already looking down at you while he speaks without stopping his aid of the others with his arrows.

"The second window to your left. He’s right under it." you go to said window and try to open it, but it’s closed shut.

"These windows are bulletproof, Clint can you break it somehow?"

"I can, but you could get hu-"

"Just do it!" you yell, cutting him off.

You can see him aim an arrow to the window, it hits its target and you can hear Clint counting down from 3 before it shatters.

You take no time to be careful of the glass as you take a little disk from your belt and press the button while pointing it at the ground.

A rope shoots out of it and anchors to the floor and, while attaching the other end to the back of your suit, you make a mental note to thank Tony for always updating your tactical suits with new useful gadgets.

You leap out the window, landing with your feet on the wall, basically running down on it as you take out your guns and start shooting down at the now dumbfounded agents.

Before they can even figure out where the shooting is coming from, you're on the ground next to Bucky, cutting the rope with a knife, then stabbing the agent closest to you.

You’re punching, kicking and shooting, trying your best not to get too far away from Bucky, basically shielding him with your body.

You hear a faint ‘holy shit’ from Clint and the other’s voices come through but you can’t follow the conversation, your whole focus on keeping Bucky safe.

You stray a little too far away from him as you do the take down move Natasha taught you on one of the agents, your legs around his neck as you bring him down to the ground.

When you turn around you see one guy getting dangerously close to Bucky’s unconscious body and you feel a sudden burst of possessiveness throughout your own body.

"He’s mine." you basically growl, taking a knife from the body of the guy you just took down and throwing it.

It lodges perfectly in his throat and he goes down right away, blood pouring out of him. You have no time to be disgusted as you keep taking down agents and, one after the other, they all drop.

The second the last one touches the ground, you're kneeling down next to Bucky.

"Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, please don't be dead..." you keep repeating, looking for the button on his tactical suit that monitors his health. Again, thanks Tony. You find it and press it "Friday, vitals."

"Heartbeat detected." the AI says and you immediately let out a breath of relief, not even knowing when you started holding your breath. "Head injury detected, possible concussion. Various cuts throughout his body. No other injuries detected."

It could be worse.

You give yourself a second to breathe while looking at Bucky, then talk into your comm, not taking your eyes off of him.

"Ok, guys, uhm... Bucky’s ass may be cute but it’s heavy. I’m gonna need a hand here." you hear some snickers and then Clint’s voice. "Cap and Sam are on their way."

You’re still looking at Bucky, almost worried that the second you take your eyes off of him his heartbeat is gonna stop, when you hear footsteps behind you and, almost automatically, you grab a knife next to your foot and throw it.

You hear it before you see it, the metal of the knife hitting Cap’s shield before he lowers it and, his face shocked and glad for his fast reflexes, he says "Relax, it’s just us."

"Sorry, I’m a little jumpy."

"Gee, wonder why." Sam says sarcastically as you turn back to Bucky.

"Just take James to the jet, Sam."

"Why do I have to carry his ass?" he whines like a child.

"Because you can fly, birdbrain, you’ll get there before we make it to the front gate." you’re almost irritated at this point, but when you turn to the duo and Sam gives you an unimpressed look, you sigh and try to calm down.

"Sorry, just… take him to safety. Please." Your voice is soft now, Bucky’s well-being the only thing on your mind. Sam picks up on your concern and gets serious, moving towards Bucky to pick him up.

"I’ll take him to the jet. See you guys there." and with that, he takes off.

You watch him go for a second before you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning around to see Steve’s equally concerned face.

"Relax, you heard Friday, he’s gonna be fine. Even if he does have a concussion the serum will heal him in an instant." you know he's right, thanks to the serum his bones heal overnight, a concussion is nothing.

But still, you can’t help the worry you feel.

"I’ll relax when he’s awake and I can see he’s fine." he’s about to say something back when you hear Tony’s voice in your ear.

"If you two are done making out about it, we really should be getting out of here." you roll your eyes and smile a little at the pink color Steve’s cheeks were turning while you start making your way to the front courtyard of the base where Natasha and Tony are still holding off the remaining Hydra agents that just seemed to keep coming.

The second he sees you both giving them a hand, Tony takes off towards the roof. "Incoming, Robin Hood, get ready for take off."

This is your cue to get to the jet, Steve, Natasha and you making your way to the front gate while still fighting, the remaining agents scrambling away the second the explosions inside the building start.

You all get to the jet and, after making sure everyone’s inside, Steve turns to Clint. "Take us home, Barton." he merely nods and makes his way to the pilot's seat, immediately taking off.

You make a beeline to where Bucky’s lying on a gurney, still unconscious.

"How is he?" you ask Bruce without taking your eyes away from the super soldier’s face.

"He’s okay, his cuts are already starting to heal themselves, so should be his head injury. He should wake up maybe within the hour, two tops." you nod and make your way to the chair beside his bed, taking his right hand in both of yours. 

You don’t know why you do that, now that you think about it you’ve probably not even touched Bucky in general more than a handful of times.

You’re not the closest of friends, you work well together in the field and get along outside of it, you hang out in group settings such as game and movie nights, team trainings and the team-building outings Tony forces everybody to go on, but that’s about it.

The lack of one on one interactions, though, didn’t help you escape your growing crush for the long-haired super soldier. You just can’t help the warm feeling you get every time he’s even in the same room, let alone when he looks at you.

You can hide it when you’re in mission mode, always being professional, but the second it happens in a normal setting like the living room or the kitchen or the gym you turn into a flustered schoolgirl, stumbling over your words and blushing every time you have his attention.

You’ve convinced yourself he doesn’t notice, if he has he hasn’t said anything, but for your own piece of mind you pretend he just doesn’t.

Sometimes it seems like he does it on purpose, though. He’d get close enough that you can smell his cologne and basically feel his body heat.

Sometimes his hands hover on your waist while he passes by you, never actually touching you but just close enough to make you almost pass out at the feeling.

And you can swear you can see a smirk on his face, but it always disappears so fast it’s just easier to convince yourself you’re imagining it.

He would have the most innocent face while asking you if something’s wrong, and all you can answer with is a small ‘I’m fine’ before basically running away, never once seeing the smug look on his face at the flustered state only he manages to put you in.

You’re brought out of your head by Steve’s hand on your shoulder, again, as he says "he’s gonna be fine."

"It’s my fault…" you say quietly, ignoring his attempt at comforting you.

"It’s not y-" you interrupt him before he can even finish.

"Yes, it is. I distracted him." You say firmly before your voice softens. "They were so close to getting him, Steve..."

You can’t take your eyes off of Bucky, almost willing him to wake up, so you could apologize. "Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if they got to him? What they could’ve done to him…" you trail off, not wanting to voice all the possibilities out loud.

Of course you know Steve knows. He worries more than you for Bucky, his best friend, basically his brother, the only family he has left from his past life.

But Steve is having none of it.

"You wanna play the blame game? He wasn’t even supposed to be on this mission, but I couldn’t stop him. He knew what it entailed, he knew it was a base full of hydra agents, but he didn’t back down because it was the right thing to do. He wants to do good and help us take down Hydra for good, he knows the risks but it was his choice. You can’t take that on you." Logically you know he's annoyingly right, again, but looking at Bucky laying motionless you can’t help the guilt that creeps up on you. 

"Friday," you say quietly, ignoring Steve’s confused look "play the footage of Bucky before he passed out coupled with the audio from our comms."

The hologram on the table in the middle of the jet lights up and Bucky’s figure can be seen fighting, then you can hear your own voice telling your theory to the group and Bucky halts for a second, he almost gets punched but avoids it at the last second, hitting the guy with his metal arm.

Steve turns to you with a smug look, knowing he was right, but you raise your hand before he can say anything and keep watching.

You see Bucky fighting and hear yourself calling his name and you can see his eyes rolling when you call him James. He’s asked you countless times to call him Bucky, but you always refuse, not sure why.

All you know it’s that it kind of annoys him but in a different way than when Sam or Peter annoy him, you can tell he’s not actually upset, it’s kind of your own little thing with him seeing as he doesn’t allow anyone else call him by his first name.

You can see Bucky still fighting and ignoring you, but when he hears you call him “Bucky” for the first time he stops, right as an agent is throwing a punch.

You see Bucky get hit in the jaw, stumble and fall, his head hitting the wall behind him pretty hard. He doesn’t get up, but you see the last agent standing get taken out by an arrow, Clint you assume.

You can hear your alarmed conversation with Clint as more agents slowly creep up on Bucky, probably being cautious, worried he could wake up any second, then there’s the sound of bullets flying and agents getting hit.

Suddenly you’re there.

You take your eyes off the screen, about to tell Steve that even he can’t deny now that it was your fault, but the whole team's attention was on the footage of you mercilessly taking out man after man, even Clint’s there watching after putting the jet on autopilot.

The look on your face frightening to the point where you almost don’t recognize yourself.

You don’t want to relive the moment, so you shift your attention back on Bucky, your hands still holding onto his.

You can hear Clint’s “holy shit” and then your “he’ mine” and you feel yourself heat up at the possessiveness in your voice.

The video gets paused and you can hear Tony asking "what the fuck was that?" his voice clearly amused, and you know what he’s asking you.

Before you can answer though, you feel Bucky’s hand squeeze yours softly, your eyes snaps down to it and then to his face while getting up from your chair.

He’s mumbling something that sounds very similar to your name but his eyes are still closed.

"James?" he slowly opens his eyes and they instantly find yours, a smile forming on his face that you can’t but mirror.

"How do you feel, Buck?" Steve asks him from beside you.

"Like I got hit really hard in the head." he groans while he tries to sit up, his hand still holding onto yours while you help him.

"Take it easy," Bruce tells him while stopping next to him on his other side "you probably don’t have a concussion, but I’d put some ice on your head to help with the headache."

"I’ll get it." you let go of Bucky, and walk to the mini freezer to get the ice pack.

Bucky takes a moment to look around him, his eyes landing on the screen where you’re frozen mid-fight.

"Friday, unpause the video." he says, curiosity taking over.

He watches you fight, protecting him with your life and he swears he’s never been more in awe in his life. He sees you get on your knees next to him and hears your whispers, praying for him to be okay, over and over.

He sees the relief in your face when Friday tells you he’s alive and he hears you call his ass “cute” as you ask the others for help, making him smile again.

"Friday, stop the footage." you say, ice in your hands but maintaining a safe distance from Bucky, embarrassed that he saw how worried you were for him.

You stand there in silence for a second while Bucky turns to look at you, the smirk on his face definitely real. You blush, cursing your body for how it reacts to his gaze, while Steve clears his throat.

"Why don’t we give you guys a minute..." he ushers everyone to the front of the jet, almost having to wrestle Tony to take him away from what he called 'his new favorite show'.

Bucky extends his right hand for you to take and you do as you get closer, your left hand going to carefully place the ice on the back of his head.

He hisses a little at the contact and you wince, giving him an apologetic smile, but his eyes never leave yours and his hand squeezes yours, letting you know he’s okay.

"I’m sorry." That's all you can say and, whatever you were expecting him to answer, it was definitely not what he says next.

"You should be." you bite your lip to stop it from trembling, your emotions getting the best of you and your guilt only growing, but he keeps going, "You distracted me. You’ve never said my name before, and it was the sweetest sound to ever come out of your mouth. Shame on you for keeping it from me for so long, doll."

He brings you closer to him, taking your hand in his left, his right going around your waist as he rests his chin on your stomach while looking up at you, your left hand still holding the ice to the back of his head.

You giggle at the puppy look he’s giving you, trying to resist the urge of leaning down and kissing him.

"Smooth, Barnes." he laughs with you, before growing more serious.

"You looked really worried." you feel your emotions bubbling up again.

"I was…" you say, your voice small "I’m sorry you got hurt because of me" you're basically whispering, afraid that if you raise your voice any louder the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold off will start falling.

"It’s not your fault, doll." before you can protest, he keeps going "and I’m fine. We’re all fine. I just took a little nap."

You roll your eyes at his attempt at a joke but can’t hide the smile starting to form on your face while he gives you a grin of his own.

You're so lost in his eyes that you almost forget about the reason all of this happened.

You let go of his hand and he gives you a confused look with a slight pout on his lips that just makes you smile more.

"Bucky," you start, taking the little box out of your pocket, but he interrupts you with an exaggerated gasp.

"Are you asking me to marry you, doll? Because, don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but maybe we should go on a date first." you can't help but laugh as you gave him a little shove, careful not to hurt him more.

"I’m not asking you to marry me, you jackass." you get more serious as you look at the box in your hand.

You don’t even realize you're biting your lip until Bucky reaches up and tugs it out. You look back at him and feel weirdly nervous, not knowing how he'll react.

"I found this at the base, and I’m pretty sure it belongs to you" you laugh a little out of nerves as he lets go of you to take the box and opens it.

He lets out a real gasp this time, fishing out the tags and holding them in his flesh hand, his face unreadable.

He looks back up at you and for a second your brain goes to the worst case scenario in which there's a lot of blood and screaming, but that image is quickly forgotten as Bucky gives you the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.

He places his hands behind your thighs and effortlessly moves you to straddle him, his movements so fast that you drop the ice pack out of surprise, but you don’t have time to do much as Bucky starts peppering kisses all over your face.

Your surprise turns into giggles and he slowly stops his assault, the smile never living his face, the look on his eyes that of pure adoration. "Thank you, doll… You don’t know what this means to me."

You don’t know if you’re imagining it, but you think Bucky’s starting to lean up and you think he’s about to kiss you when you hear a whistle followed by a slapping sound and an “ow”.

You both turn towards the sound to find the whole team looking at you two, Steve has a smirk on his face, Tony’s next to him, rubbing the back of his head and the rest of them are snickering.

"Seriously?!" your irritation does nothing to hide your blush, Bucky’s own embarrassment clear as he hides his face in your chest. 

"What? Capsicle said a minute, we gave you a minute!" Tony said, earning another slap on the back of his head from Steve.

"Just go away!" you say laughing and they all go back to the front of the jet but you can hear their little laughs while they whisper, making you roll your eyes before looking down at Bucky who’s already looking up at you.

"Can you do me a favor, doll?" he asks you and you nod.

"Anything."

"I’d hate to lose these. Hold on to them for me?" he says, holding up his dog tags.

"Are you sure?" you ask uncertainly as he puts them around your neck.

"I’m more than sure." he says while looking at them on your chest and then looking back into your eyes, his smile impossibly big and you’re sure yours looks the same.

He wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer and you wrap one arm around his neck, your other hand going to play with the tags around your neck. You’re looking down at them when Bucky speaks again.

"So," He starts, his smile becoming a teasing smirk. "you think my ass is cute, huh?"

You groan, hiding your face in the crook of his neck while he laughs at your reaction.

You can hear the others laughing too and can’t help the laugh that comes out of you, more sure now than ever that everything is gonna be okay.