#I think Hugo wanted two things:

[shitpostingfromthebarricade]

Something else I keep thinking about:

The barricade had been well-planned.

Hugo spends pretty much all of the tenth book of the fourth tome talking about the different ways that the Amis' barricade is straegically sound. After Enjolras returns in the fifth tome to announce that no one will be coming to help, much of the "downtime" in the first book is spent setting up "the perfect martyrdom," effectively. 4.1.5 indicates that the people weren't content and were in a state of agitation and prepared to rise. This was the third revolt like this in the past several months. Hugo even spends an entire chapter (5.1.20) explaining that sometimes, France works against progress, just like that.

A take I see a lot in fanon is that the Amis (and especially Enjolras) are out of touch with the people, that they were underprepared, that they didn't know what they were doing. However, Hugo really gives the impression that everything that could have been done to prepare for a successful revolt, had been done.

So why does this matter?

Because sometimes, as Hugo says in 5.1.20, the time isn't right. The world is still catching up. That doesn't mean that the people are wrong for wanting more, or for agitating for more. Indeed, says Vicky, there are many times that the only way forward is through a revolt. However, he also encourages us not to become discouraged by such setbacks.

It's all progress.

The living may not be wrong, but the dead are right.

[moeblob]

I am really tired of a situation rn.

[tricoufamily]

yeah hugo Never liked being around jacques as a kid even before his mom died and before he even really knew why. always hated it when he had to hug him, wanted him to stay longer on his business trips, bristled and got angry every time he heard jacques's childhood nickname for him that he hated ("bush baby"). his mom just kinda didn't register any of this and thought everything is fine hugo is just very very clingy and the nickname is cute surely he's not actually upset over it and

[pilmyeol]

return of the disaster class hero is a lot of fun. wouldnt call it good necessarily but it is highly enjoyable and also i really like the weird gay thing lee gun and hugo have going on

[dasketcherz]

headcanon: what if I gave this man a pistol

okay so I wanted hugo and varian to have different fighting styles despite sharing the same skill set as alchemists and I wanted their weapon of choice to also strongly reflect the kingdoms they came from.

for varian, he has his staff and throughout their quest he uses it often to illuminate the group's path, especially in darker places—which makes sense because he's from corona, the kingdom of light.

so for hugo, being from ingvarr aka the iron kingdom of warriors run by technological advancement and utilitarian system—I imagine him owning a pistol that he made himself that he specifically modified to accommodate alchemy wherein his ammos aren't bullets but rather alchemical compounds instead (think like Varian's project obsidian in season 3 but on a much smaller and portable scale) and he's made a built-in switching compartment so he'd have element variety of compounds as ammos ready to go. (think like Honey Lemon's chemistry purse)

it just made sense to me that he'd know how to make and use a firearm (frankly even his DnD counterpart knows how to use a riffle) considering his mentor Donella is a royal engineer and arm's dealer (at least basing this from Varian's Tangled Trials Lore by @i-found-you-justine-time) he's bound to pick up a thing or two from observing and watching her work—plus this provides a practical explanation to why he chooses to wear fingerless gloves instead of a full safety gloves like Varian—because he needs that extra mobility to pull the trigger faster.

and this also says a lot about his character because he made it solely and purely for self defense, designing his weapon with the intent to only immobilize opponents rather than actually inflicting serious harm to others.

[secretmellowblog]

The thing is, Jean Valjean’s “nineteen year prison sentence for stealing a loaf of bread” from Les Mis isn’t actually unusual….not even today! I see people talking about it as if it’s strange or unimaginable when it happens every day.

In modern America — often as a result of pointlessly cruel (and racist) habitual offender and mandatory minimum laws— people are routinely sentenced to life in prison for minor crimes like shoplifting or possession of drugs.

The ACLU did a report in 2013 detailing the lives of various people who were sentenced to life in prison without parole for nonviolent property crimes like:

•attempting to cash a stolen check

•a junk-dealer’s possession of stolen junk

metal (10 valves and one elbow pipe)

•possession of stolen wrenches

•siphoning gasoline from a truck

•stealing tools from a tool shed and a welding machine from a yard

•shoplifting three belts from a department store

•shoplifting several digital cameras

•shoplifting two jerseys from an athletic store

• taking a television, circular saw, and a power converter from a vacant house

• breaking into a closed liquor store in the middle of the night

And of course, so so so many people sentenced to life without parole for the possession of a few grams of drugs.

And we could go on and on!

Gregory Taylor was a homeless man in Los Angeles who, in 1997, was sentenced to “25 years to life” for attempting to steal food from a food kitchen. He was released after 13 years. The lawyers helping to release him even cited Les Miserables in their appeal, comparing Taylor’s sentence to Jean Valjean’s.

And there’s another specific bit of social commentary Hugo was making about Valjean’s trial that’s still depressingly relevant. He writes that Valjean was sentenced for the theft of loaf of bread, but also that the court managed to make that sentence stick by bringing up some of his past misdemeanors. For example, Valjean owned a gun and was known to occasionally poach wildlife (presumably for his starving family to eat.) . So the court exaggerates how harmful the bread theft was—he had to smash a windowpane to get the bread, which is basically Violence— then insist the fact that he owns a gun and occasionally poaches is proof that he is habitually and innately violent. Then when Valjean obviously becomes distressed traumatized and furious as a result of his nakedly unjust sentence and begins making desperate (and very unsuccessful/impulsive/ poorly thought through) attempts to escape…. the government indifferently tacks more years onto his sentence, labels him a “dangerous” felon, and insists that its initial read of him as an innately violent person was correct.

And it’s sad how a lot of the real life stories linked earlier are similar to the commentary Hugo wrote in 1863? Someone will commit a nonviolent property crime, and then the court insists that a bunch of other miscellaneous things they’ve done in the past (whether it’s other minor thefts or being addicted to drugs or w/e) are Proof they’re inherently violent and incapable of being around other people.

A small very petty fandom side note: This is also why I dislike all those common jokes you see everywhere along the lines of “lol it’s so unrealistic for the police to want to arrest Valjean over a loaf of bread, there must have been some other reason the police were pursuing him. Because the state would never punish someone that harshly and irrationally for no reason. so maybe javert was just gay haha”. (Ex: this tiktok— please don’t harass the creator or poster though, I don’t think they were intending to mean anything like that and its just a silly common type of joke you see made about Les mis all the time so it’s not unique in any way.) because like.

As much as I don’t think Les Mis is a flawless book or that its political messaging is perfect….the only way that insanely long unjust sentences for minor crimes is “unrealistic” is if you’re operating on the assumption that prisons are here to Keep You Safe by always only punishing bad criminals who do serious crimes. And that’s just, not true at all. Like I get that these are just goofy silly shallow jokes, and I’m not angry or going to harass anyone who makes them. but it feels like there’s an assumption underlying all those goofy jokes that “this is just not how prison works!” “Prisons don’t routinely sentence people to absurd laughably unjust pointless sentences!” “Prisons give people fair sentences for logical reasons!” When like…no

Valjean being relentlessly hounded and tortured for a minor crime in a way that is utterly ridiculous and arbitrary in its cruelty is not actually a plot hole in Les mis. It’s a plot hole in …..society ajsjkdkdkf. And the only way to fix that is to fight for prison abolition or at least reform, and (in America) stand up against the vicious naked cruelty of habitual offender and mandatory minimum laws.

But yeah :(. I hate how Les Mis opens with a prologue saying the novel will be obsolete the moment the social issues it describes have been resolved— but two hundred years later, the book is still more relevant than ever because we’re dealing with so many of the exact same injustices.

[latenightdaydreams]

The Chair (fem)

Poll story!

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, mentions of cheating, p in v, oral, cucking, dirty talk

3.3k word count

🪑

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After three years of marriage, you found out that your husband, Hugo, has been having an affair for the last two years. He completely broke your heart. Trust was something you struggled to build, and he just completely shattered yours. After only three months of therapy, Hugo comes to you with the idea of making things ��even’ between the two of you; allowing you to cuck him.

Hugo only made you even angrier when he said this to you. You’ve never thought about having sex with another man before. For one, your self-esteem was so low now. You love Hugo, you’ll never see another man in the same way as you see Hugo- so you thought.

It’s Saturday; you’re dressed in a simple white dress that clung to your shape. Hugo was invited to his best friend’s brother’s homecoming and took you with him. He quickly left your side at the party to go mingle with his friends, making you feel rejected. You make your way to the kitchen where it’s quiet, leaning back against the counter and looking out the window.

König sees you by yourself, so he approaches you. The way your dress clings to you catches his eyes immediately. He walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge, grabbing two beers. With one hand stretched out handing you a beer, his mask hides his expression.

“Hallo, I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” His Austrian accent piques your interest.

“Oh, thank you.” You grab the beer. “I’m y/n.”

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m König.”

Your eyes go wide and you smile as you realize this is who everyone is waiting for. “Oh, everyone is outside waiting for you.”

“I know, I’m avoiding the crowd for as long as I can.” He chuckles as his eyes openly trail down your body. “Who are you here with?”

“Hugo—”

“Jakobs friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Who would have thought little Hugo could pull someone like you?”

A smile pulls across your lips as you let out a soft giggle. König stands at 6’10 while Hugo stands at 5’8. He chuckles with you as he steps closer to you. Just then, the sliding back doors open. It’s Hugo with Jakob.

“König!” Jakob excitedly rushes to his brother.

Hugo’s smile slowly fades away as he eyes you and König, seeing how close you two were just standing. You gazed up at him with bright eyes, the same as you used to look at Hugo with. His heart skins to his stomach.

König turns to see Hugo, his eyes dead as he glares at him. König wants his wife. Craved his wife. He’s going to have her.

A few weeks pass. König has added you on all social media. Today, while at the gym, he sent you a gym selfie. He’s shirtless and flexing. His body is riddled with scars, sculpted like a piece of art. König’s blonde hair covers part of his face, your eyes glued to the dark blonde hair that trails from his belly button down.

As you inspect the photo, you close your legs and press them together. Hugo see’s your movement and recognizes it as you being aroused. He smirks.

“What are you reading?” He stands and walks to you, assuming that you’re reading smut. As he gets closer, he sees you quickly close what looked like a man’s photo.

“Nothing.” You stand and walk away to the bedroom.

While there was a feeling nagging at him, he let it go. The sex life between the both of you is basically nonexistent since the affair came to light. He figured it was simply porn. The conversation that comes next, he wasn’t expecting.

You both sat at the dinner table, pushing your food around with your fork as you contemplated your next words. Hugo notices that you’re lost in thought. He clears his throat and sits up.

“Um, are you okay babe?”

“Hm? Yeah.” You place the fork down on your plate. “I want to talk.”

“Okay.” Hugo can feel his heart beginning to sink.

“Do you remember when you offered me the option to have sex with someone else? Cucking?”

Swallowing hard, Hugo nods with a look of dread on his face. Please don’t let it be König.

“I want to take you up on that offer.” You look up, making direct eye contact with him.

Hugo shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Do you know who?” He picks up his glass of water, taking a big gulp.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Who?”

“König.”

Hugo leans back in his chair and rubs his hands over his face as he lets out a deep breath. “König?” He leans forward, arms coming down hard on the table. “What makes you think he would even like you?”

His insecurities begin to show through his words and body language. He holds himself like an injured boy. As if the simple mention of König killed his ego.

“He’s told me.” You look at him with a new found confidence.

“He told you? When?”

“We’ve been talking.”

“How?” Hugo’s eyes widened.

“Social media and texting.”

Hugo stands, combing his fingers through his hair. This can’t be happening. Not with König. “For how long?”

“Since the party.” You watch him pace back and forth.

“Have you seen him?” He stops and looks at you with pleading eyes.

“Only for lunch.” You admit.

“Only for lunch.” He repeats, shaking his head, dropping it to look at the floor.

“He said he’s free Friday night.”

Hugo slowly looks back up at you in disbelief.

.

.

Friday night, you have fresh sheets on your bed, a bottle of wine, three wine glasses, and a chair in front of the bed. You’re dressed in a short silk negligee, the deep blue color complimenting your skin tone perfectly.

Hugo looks at you. He never thought he’d be sharing you with someone. Then he thinks about the pain he causes you over the past two years. The doorbell ringing pulls him out of his thoughts. He walks forward towards the door and opens it to see König without his mask on. His face is covered in scars, but he’s still a handsome man. Hugo always felt inferior to König, being over a foot shorter than him.

“Hallo, Hugo.” König smiles and walks past him into your home.

König’s eyes fall on you, the way your little negligee hugs your body; it’s like you’re a gift for him to open.

“Hallo, Liebling.” He walks to you and hugs your body tightly. “You look magnificent.”

“Thank you.” There is a cheerful giggle in your voice. It sickens Hugo. Your small hand slips into König’s. “Follow me.”

Hugo watched you lead König upstairs towards your shared bedroom. He followed reluctantly. He knows you’re going up with or without him.

You enter the bedroom with König. As you go to open the wine bottle, König gently swoops in and takes the bottle from you.

“I’ve got this.” He opens the bottle for you, his muscles flexing under his tight black shirt as he does so.

König pours wine into each glass, a little extra into the third. He hands you one, then turns to Hugo and hands him the fuller one. A little smirk on his lips as he looks down on Hugo. “Here go, a little extra for you to relax.”

You take a large drink of your wine and place it on the bedside table. König’s eyes travel up your legs to your plump ass, the way it sways as you move. He places his glass down alongside yours. His large hands wrap around your waist and hold you in a firm grasp.

König leans his body down, his lips pressing into yours passionately. You quickly reciprocate, your lips parting slightly to lick his lips, causing König to chuckle, “Eager little one, aren’t you?” He grabs you by your thighs and lifts you in his arms.

“You may want to take a seat now.” König turns to Hugo as he holds you in his arms.

Hugo looks at you in König’s arms as he holds you. You look like Aphrodite in Ares's arms. He saunters to the seat in front of the bed and sits, wine in hand. There is nothing else to do but to watch you with him.

König gently lays you down on the bed, his lips clashing against yours as your tongue twirls around one another’s. Slowly his lips leave yours and trail down your neck, drawing small sighs of pleasure from your mouth. One hand comes up and squeezes your breast gently, his fingers coming around your nipple and lightly pinching. A small moan leaves your lips, followed by a nervous giggle.

He backs up to see you with a warm smile, leaning down to kiss your lips again. Hugo sat, watching the chemistry shared between the two of you, and it makes him feel sick. This is suppose to be a fuck, not…whatever this is.

König stands upright and undresses. He pulls his shirt off to expose the body you’ve only ever seen in photos, in person. Your eyes roam up and down his body. He is stunning. The black shirt he had on is tossed to the edge of the bed. His hands undo his belt buckle. You sit up to help him, your lips pressing against the warm skin of his chest.

A deep sigh leaves König’s lips as he combs his fingers through your hair, your gentle kisses sending a chill throughout his body. Once his pants are undone, he pulls his pants down, kicking them off to the side. His enormous erection is pressing up against the fabric of his boxer briefs, his cock so big his tip sticks out the waistband of his underwear.

Hugo’s eyes travel up and down König’s body. He feels his anxiety spike, taking a big drink of his wine. The way you touch him, it’s as if you’ve been thinking about this for a while. You’re enjoying his body. His eyes follow your hand, go to his cock and grasp it through his underwear. König’s hands on your jaw, holding your face to him as he kisses you passionately.

You grab König’s hands and move them, kissing down his chest again until your lips reach the bit of cock sticking out. Your tongue licks over the tip, scooping up a dab of pre-cum that has come to the surface. König looks down at you as you pull down his boxer briefs, your warm wet mouth slowly wrapping around his cock.

König lets out a loud groan as he gazes down at you. He looks over to Hugo with a smile before wrapping some of your hair around his head and guiding your mouth down the shaft of his cock. You eagerly accept his cock, taking in as much as you can as you suck.

Hugo shifts in his seat uncomfortably. Even if he turns away, it doesn’t help. The sound of his cock fucking your mouth consumes the room. You gaze over at Hugo shifting uncomfortably and it made you feel happy to see. Slowly pulling your head off his cock, eyes gazing up at him.

“Let’s take this off of you.” König whispers as he moves back slightly to pull your negligee off. You lift your hands above your head and to assist him. He steps back more to see your bare breasts and the small blue thong that covers your precious little cunt.

Hugo feels sick watching König look at your body. He looks at you the same way a dog would look at a piece of meat. He’s hungry for you like Hugo has never been.

“Look at this body…you look like a work of art, Liebling.” König grabs your body and pulls you back onto the bed more.

Your head rests on your pillow as König crawls over your body. His lips meet yours as one hand explores. One caresses your cheeks, the other plays with your nipples between his fingers before moving down more to your pussy, his fingers rubbing the thin fabric. He can feel how wet you are for him and it drives him wild.

His fingers hook into the fabric of your thong and pull it down slowly. Your creamy pussy comes into view as he sees the mess you made in your underwear. “Beautiful.” He whispers to himself. Without looking back, he tosses your thong behind him. It lands on Hugo’s lap, causing him to just look at it before looking back up at you.

Hugo watches as König spreads your legs with his knees, getting his body comfortable between your legs. König’s cock rubbing up and down along your folds, relishing the wet heat. The view Hugo has, he watches as he slips his cock into your pussy. Your legs instantly tensing around König’s body. A loud moan leaves your lips as he sees König’s balls press against your ass, burying himself deep inside of your cunt.

König pulls his hips back before slamming them down into you again, watching as you jerk forward and your eyes flutter. Your fingernails are digging into his forearms as you try to hold on to him.

“Please…” You whimper.

“Please?” König teases, licking from your chin to your lips.

“Fuck me…”

König looks to his side and grabs a pillow, tossing it on the side of the bed. Without withdrawing his cock, he lifts your body and turns you. “So, Hugo can get a better view of that beautiful face with I make you cum.”

Hugo has no reaction but to glare at König. In that moment his mind begins to flash back to all the moment’s he has ever spent with König. He never thought he would be in this situation with him.

König lifts one of your legs to be over his shoulder, the other he pushes off the bed. Your foot falling on Hugo’s lap. König pulls out slightly as there are streaks of your creamy arousal up and down his cock.

“Look at that, your wife has a beautiful pussy.” König makes eye contact with Hugo before looking down at you. He grasps your breast as he fucks you.  His hips roll into you desperate to bury himself deeply into you.

Hugo can’t help but to get an erection as he watches König stretch you beyond anything he could imagine. Your face contorted into a pleasurable high, you don’t even look in his direction; as if he wasn’t even there.

“Oh my god König…” You mewl, lifting your head to look at your vagina and watch him fuck you.

“Your pussy is fucking…heavenly.” König growls.

“I love your cock.”

Hugo feels his heart drop and a pang of jealousy flare deep within. Especially when König begins to taunt him. He pulls his cock out, grabbing your effortlessly as if you were a doll. He moves the pillow too, placing you over it, lifting your ass to him.

You are now face to face with Hugo, König begins bullying his cock back into you. He grabs your waist and holds you, watching your ass bounce off of his hips as he bucks forward into you. Intertwining a handful of your hair between his fingers, he pulls your head back and makes you look at Hugo.

“Say it again, Liebling.”

“Please…” You whimper pathetically needing him to fuck you harder.

“Nein, the other thing.”

“I love your cock, König.” You moan out as you look into Hugo’s eyes. You can see the discomfort and pain he feels; you can truly careless. “Please fuck me!”

“Such a good girl!” He slaps your ass, continuing to hold your head up as he fucks you harder.

Your mouth drops open as you forget words and just babble sounds of pleasure. Hugo watches as your eyes flutter back. Reaction’s he’s never gotten out of you before. “König please!”

“Look at your husband and beg.” He growls pulling your hair harder.

“Please make me cum! Please!”

“More. Beg for another man’s cock!”

“Please! I want to cum on your cock!”

You look Hugo right in the eyes as you tremble on König’s cock. “Fuck…”

König pulls his cock out quickly and drops to his stomach between your legs. His tongue presses flat against your folds and licks up, tasting your cunt finally. His tongue lapping at your clit, causing your legs to twitch with every pass.

“I don’t know how you don’t eat this pussy every day.” König makes the comment to Hugo. “Maybe I should come over and do it for you.”

You moan and run your fingers through his hair, looking down at his pink tongue parting your folds to drink you in. If you could have König over everyday for this, you really would.

“Too bad you ship out again soon.” Hugo says in a snarky tone, reminding you both of the temporary bliss.

“Watch it, I can bring a spouse to base with me.” König makes eye contact with you as his wet lips kiss your pussy’s fat mound, biting it gently. You caress his face; he moves up to kiss your lips. Your tongue pushes out to taste yourself along his hips. König lets out a small moan; trailing his hands up and down your body, grabbing your waist and kissing you lustfully.

For a moment, you both forgot Hugo was even there. König pulls away from the kiss, letting his hand trail down your body before grabbing you and sitting you on his lap. Your back is on his chest as he drapes your legs over his muscular long legs. He scoots the edge of the bed, uncomfortably close for Hugo’s liking.

Hugo adjusts himself in his pants as he watches König grab his cock and slowly thrust up, showing it into you. He watches as your lips spread and wrap tightly around him. König wraps his arms under each of your knees and pins his hands back behind your head, holding you in the Full Nelson position.

You’re folded in half as König uses you as a flesh light. Ramming his cock rapidly into your messy wet cunt. König’s muscular legs flex with every thrust.

“Whose cock is better?” König’s voice is a low growl as he speaks.

Eye’s locked with Hugos, “Your cock König.”

Hugo looks away, still forced to hear you repeat over and over that you love König’s cock better. König’s humongous 10-inch cock over Hugo’s average 5.5-inch cock. Of course you liked his better. The way you look like you’re in a different world with every thrust, he already knew.

König can’t hold back any longer. Your little cunt is the first he’s had in four years and he’s done his best to not cum too fast. The sounds of your beautiful moans, the feel of your lovely pussy…he can’t.

“Beg for my cum, Liebling.”

“Please cum in my tight pussy.”

Hugo sits at the edge of his seat, about to speak up. You both agreed to not let him cum in you. He’s not supposed to risk getting you pregnant. It’s bad enough he’s fucking you completely raw, which you said you wouldn’t let happen.

“Fuck, I’m cumming.” König pants.

“Yes!”

Hugo watches König’s heavy balls tighten as they drain deep inside of his wife’s pussy. His cock throbs as soft moans leave his lips.

König lifts you up, letting his cock pop out of your pussy. His white cum drips out of your stretched hold. Hugo just sits and watches it drip out.

“Want to taste it?” You rub your clit teasing Hugo.

He just looks into your eyes with a serious look, a look of pain. “No.” His voice cracks slightly.

.

.

The next morning, you wake up with a pep in your step. Your skin is glowing and a wide smile is spread across your lips. As you pour yourself a cup of coffee Hugo sits at the kitchen table, watching you. He feels sick, but at least the ‘payback’ is over, he thinks.

You sit and sip your coffee, looking at your phone. König snaps you a photo of his hard cock with the text saying, “I dreamt of you all night.”

“I can’t wait to see you again.”

“When does Hugo leave for work?”

“Come over in an hour.”

[atrologynuances]

Astrology observations pt2 || Planets in their detriment

NOTE: the interpretation of these are solely on the planets. harmonious/inharmonious aspects can change the translation of these planets.

these are based on personal observations as well as acquired knowledge from books, websites, and other observation posts.

𓋼𓍊 Aries/Scorpio Venus- may struggle maintaining a harmonious relationship which can lead to them changing their relationships quite often. aries venuses might posses an either fiery or more grounded energy thanks to the cardinal energy. scorpios on the other hand might be emotionally reserved, and only truly love very few people around them if any, the rest they keep around depending on what they can access from them (very manipulative). Given their possible relationship insecurities these two venus signs will seek for someone going at the same pace and someone with the same mindset, which realistically is hard to find. when they do think they’ve found it, they might later find out they were in fact wrong. When they do get in a relationship they might become possessive as a result of possible insecurities.

𓋼𓍊 Taurus/Libra Mars- these natives might need extreme motivation to get things going, like a 9-5 they don’t like, but the security and responsibility of it keeps them on their toes. these mars signs could also lack sense of security in their actions, which could leave them wondering whether they were right or wrong and as a result they might not fight for themselves as hard as they should. it is important for them to have a big support system that reassures and validates their actions when conflicts arise.

𓋼𓍊 Gemini/Virgo Jupiter- these natives have a hard time seeing beyond logic explanation, they could experience something and until they don’t find logic behind it they won’t be satisfied. get fixated on many things but never seems to finish or find a final answer to any of them. is not that they’re unable to finish them, they’re just no longer interested to. closed minded towards otherworldly subjects, or tries very hard to understand it.

𓋼𓍊 Cancer/Leo Saturn- these natives lack discipline but want it. they might vent to you that they do not like their current monetary situation and are looking to make some changes in that aspect of their life, but the next day you see them spending all their money on clothes. they know this is wrong but will still do it. they may be prone to control people and situations because they think they know what’s best for everyone. however, they do not like people telling them what to do lol. they might be prone to burnouts easily and immune system problems.

𓋼𓍊 Sagittarius/Pisces Mercury- struggles to find something that feels “right” for them, when they do find it they mostly have to work harder than everybody else to catch up. problems with communication; either started talking late or have problems expressing themselves as they get older. prone to saying things that don’t make sense upfront which will make them have to explain themselves often. this might create insecurities that will lead them to express themselves less. this is the reason why I think so many great writers have these placements, they can just erase and reword their writing without being judged for it.

- fyodor dostoevsky, jane austen, james joyce, victor hugo, emily dickinson

𓋼𓍊 Capricorn Moon- find it difficult to be vulnerable, this translates to needing or wanting material security to make sure they won’t need anyone. do not like to rely on anyone for emotional/financial support even if they really need it. despite all this, they are very emotional. the difference between them and their sister sign cancer is that they are not expressive with their emotions or act on them. something I have noticed is that they are not as workaholics as people might expect them to be, however when they work, they splurge on the money they make or might be stingy with it, as either one of these actions brings security to them. most of the times they don’t feel loved by either one of their parents even if they’ve both always been present in their lives.

𓋼𓍊 Aquarius Sun- natives are hard to describe for me because I have not met many of them, I feel like most hideaway at home lol. one thing i’ve noticed is that they cry a lot and are unapologetic about it. these people shine bright like their sister sign leo, the difference is they don’t want to so they avoid situations where they have to or when they are put in these situations they have to make sure their presentation is flawless. however in day to day life they do not really care how they’re perceived. they’re the ones that go to school in pijama pants. they also oftentimes seek some form of validation with other people, which is why they change partners often. very physically beautiful, but doesn’t seem to know or act on it.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope y’all have a wonderful day.

guide

[wraithdance]

The Five Year Plan | Gaz x Reader

Synopsis: When your fiancé breaks up with you, you start to question your timeline; who needs a man when you can have a baby yourself? Who better to ask for help on creating one than your arch-nemesis Kyle Garrick?

Note: F!Reader, Fat/Plus sized Reader, Reader is implied to be Black but can be read as WoC, Readers nickname is 'Siggy', there will be no y/n use Content warning: none; besides a terrible grasp of british-isms

Chapter One: Piss off Kyle

It was while sitting beneath the awning of your favorite bistro that you’d come to a great realization. Hugo Montclair, your fiance of three years, was not just a bore but a bit of a jackass. 

Also, the lavender cake was no longer listed on Le Misa’s menu. So, technically two great realizations. As bad as it sounded, one concerned you more than the other.

Squinting you give the laminated sheet another thorough read to confirm your suspicions and… ah, yes. It’s not there. Where it should be between the ladies fingers and the lemon cake is an empty, discolored space. 

With a manicured finger you chip away at the corners to reveal the sloping letter ‘L’ beneath the meticulously placed correction tape. 

This was no good.

“Siggy, darling have you heard a word I said?”

You hum in reply, still deeply baffled with the current conundrum. Hugo calls your name again, not satisfied until you’ve given him your attention. 

He leans his head down to be in your line of sight. He’s a bit too blonde and polished for you not to focus your attention on. Like a shiny beacon. You try not to sigh deeply and instead plaster on a smile. 

“Yes, I heard you darling, you want to break up because you’re seeing Maddie from downstairs.”

Hugo extends his dainty manicured hands across the small table to cover yours above the menu. 

“I’m so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you this way.”

His eyes are carefully soft and his expression does that awkward stretch people do when attempting to project a facsimile of contriteness. In this case it just makes the skin around his mouth pucker oddly, displacing the filler he swears he gets for preventive measures.

You pat his hand politely with a smile “It’s fine, Hugo, really. Do you think I can borrow your menu? I think there's been a bit of a mistake.”

You are sliding the paper to your side of the table before you can finish the sentence. Hugo is a bit taken aback and blanches.

Another sweeping glance at Hugo’s menu reveals much of the same. 

There’s no lavender cake.

“Look, I know this is hard to take in but I want us to try to at least be amicable. We’ve been together for years and your parents and friends adore me.”

At this you snort but quickly cover it with a cough. Your parents tolerated him at best and your friends had made it well known they disapproved of Hugo. (Something about being a posh chihuahua enamored with its own self importance.)

You frown thinking of the dramatics his mother would put on inevitably, so sure you’d ruined the engagement to her son on purpose. 

But really what could you do? 

It wasn’t the most convenient thing to have your boss's beloved son kick you to the metaphorical curb, but technically you were the one who had been cheated on. Totally not your fault this time!

“I said I got it, you can’t help who you love and etcetera.” You give a cluck of your tongue before looking up once more hoping to catch the circling barista's eye. 

The mid afternoon lunch crowd at Le Misa’s is blessedly tame for a Thursday. The gloomy weather outside makes it easier to spot the jittery teen in a crimson red apron. The poor girl is glued to a corner, hunched over and clutching a notepad in white knuckle grip. 

She sees you shift in her periphery and snaps terrified eyes to your half raised arm. You do your best to smile sans teeth as you wave her over, coaxing her closer with small fluid movements. 

You hope you’re projecting calming vibes because she looks a bit green around the gills from the very thought of being needed by a customer. 

When she’s meters from your table you lean forward, your tits and belly squash a bit over the table causing your empty saucer to clatter before settling. Hugo, despite his offended chittering, stops long enough to stare at your chest. With a roll of your eyes you ignore his open panting. Typical.

“Hi darling,” you chirp in an octave higher than your usual. “I just had a quick question about the cakes? There used to be a lavender one here, I’ve been ordering it for years. Can you tell me what happened to it?”

“Um w-well.” The trembling girl blinks are twitchy and rapid, sputtering out um’s and oh’s.

‘Oh, no’ you think to yourself. 

You might have broken her. Still, you nod your head in support waiting for her to gather her wits. The poor thing was obviously a new employ with a bitch of a case of social anxiety.

Your efforts are for nothing in the end because a loud clearing throat causes you both to freeze, just as it’s seem she’d gotten up her courage.

Your cheek ticks as you watch the skittish girl clam up again. Hugo’s gaze has pried off your cleavage long enough to laser something disapproving and pointed at the side of your forehead. 

He’s even doing that thing with his face that you’ve always hated. His cheeks suck in like a goldfish and he does the eyebrow raise and head cock that screams ‘I am very displeased.’

“What? I just need to ask her something. I'll be just a sec.”

Hugo’s frown only deepens and he lets out the most dramatic sigh you’ve ever heard from a thirty two year old man.

It causes you to roll your eyes. Really, why couldn’t he just break up with you through text? This whole kerfuffle was starting to drag on and ruin your already limited lunch hour.

What happened to just saying ‘it’s not you, it’s me?’ or ghosting like a normal person? 

You give the hovering teenager a tight smile and lift a single manicured finger to signify the need for a moment. She scurries back into the safety of the French doors into the cafe's interior before your hand has a chance to lower.

“Hugo darling,” Your tone is careful, neutral like the one you use to disarm your irate clients. 

“I’m really not upset I promise, we’d barely begun planning the wedding and we never got around to moving in with each other. Really there’s no harm-”

“She's pregnant.” he blurts out suddenly. 

A record scratches in your brain because, “What?”

Hugo grimaces. “She’s about three months pregnant. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

One blink. Two… before you’re sure there wasn’t a punchline coming. 

“Are you taking the piss right now?”

“Sweetheart,” His hands raise in defense “don’t get upset-”

“Oh what the actual FUCK Hugo? You told me you wanted to wait until marriage before considering children!” Your hiss is low and dark. 

More than a small part of you is satisfied with his flinch back to avoid your venom. You're slightly aware of the scene you’re causing but really! The man had kept his sperm under lock and key like his swimmers were precious jewels!

It’s the one thing he’d put his foot down about, content to let you drive the relationship otherwise.

‘I have to be considerate of my legacy as a Montclair, Siggy.’

‘We can talk about it after the wedding, Siggy.’ 

You didn’t understand the hang up because the Montclair clan were as distant from the crown as you were to Beyoncé! Still he’d been adamant about not having a child out of wedlock. 

You’re not very kind about reminding him of the fact either.

“I did mean that, I swear,” he ruffles his coiffed blonde hair, the pomade holding firm but is no match for the havoc his slender fingers trail. “It just happened and Madelyn and I decided it was a good thing.”

He huffs “I mean let’s be realistic Siggy, she’s different from you. She’s a bit more equipped to take care of a child than you are.”

Oh ho! Now that was rich. You were chomping at the bit to hear how the barely legal heiress was better equipped to birth a baby than you were!

“How so!” Your tone is one translating the utmost disbelief and sarcasm. 

Hugo waves a hand in the air, it’s so dismissive and you consider punching him in the nose for it. “She’s just much more flexible.” 

Well ouch?

There’s a Rolodex of adjectives your litany of exes used to describe you before they dumped you. 

Uptight, strict, aloof, intense. ‘Heartless harpy who feeds on the souls of innocent men’. 

The last one came from a starving poet who’d been freeloading on your nice suede green couch before you'd kicked him and his lute out. How you managed to find the one man in London with dreams of being a modern day bard, who knows.

(You did admire his ways with words and his tongue was capable of art). It had admittedly stung a bit more than the others and you needed an extra hen session with the girls to unpack the resulting feels. 

Nonetheless, you’ve never been called inflexible. 

Matter of fact, you were pretty fucking flexible! Your Pilates teacher had crowed about it several times during class, thank you very much.  (Maybe he was just trying to get you to put out but still, a compliment was a compliment.)

Momentarily you consider if that was actually supposed to be a dig at your weight but Hugo frantically rambles on as if reading your mind. 

“I just mean that you work long hours at Mum’s firm and you’ve told me yourself you wouldn’t stop working even if you were pregnant.”

“So what!”

“So, that’s an awful way to raise a child Siggy! Madelyn works for herself and has the time to dedicate to a baby that you don’t.”

“Of course she has the time!” you cry out in exasperation, ignoring Hugo’s shushing. If he wanted you to react better he shouldn’t have dropped this bomb in public!

“She teaches yoga to the elderly in her perfect fucking apartment! I’ve been a barrister for all of 2 seconds and I can’t just give up my position!”

Hugo rolls his eyes with the dramatic flare only an aristocrat could pull off. “I’ve been trying to work on our relationship for months; you’ve blown me off every time saying you were working or there was a crisis with your friends.”

“I thought proposing would change things but…” The sad look does make some guilt well up into your veins. 

Hugo’s shoulder drop and his blue eyes are a bit misty. It makes your throat close with panic. Hugo was prone to sobbing and you really needed to intercept that train before it derailed.

“Hugo-”

“It doesn’t even feel like you like me sometimes!” He’s hiccuping and throwing his hands in the air in exasperation before you know it. 

Oh for fucks sake!

“It’s like you view me as more of a convenience than a partner. I’ve only ever seen you truly happy over coupons or work or cakes!”

Fat tears roll down his face and you’re handing him your linen napkin with a sigh. He thanks you and blows his nose loudly enough for other tables to glance your way. Wonderful.

When he composes himself you try to refute him.

“Hugo, that's not true, I like you,” His gives you a look of complete disbelief that sets you on the defense. “Really I do! I just…”

Your brows furrow as words evade you. You really wish he would have just broken up with you via text.

“I show it differently that’s all.” Your shoulders sag in defeat.

Hugo gives you a sad smile. It’s watery and his face is still a bit splotchy.

“But not like Madelyn does. Be honest, did you ever love me?”

You feel like an absolute bitch because you can’t answer him. After a while you both accept that it was about as much as you could say.

It’s only when you’re halfway to the office that you realize you never did get an answer about the cake.

Kyle Garrick had a radar for when you were about to make a fool of yourself. The man had somehow been privy to every embarrassing moment you’ve had in your shared building. You couldn’t prove it, but he had to have some kind of sixth sense for your personal humiliation. 

There was no other explanation because the entire six years you’d lived across from him, he was always conveniently near when shit went awry.

Like that time you locked yourself out wearing only a ratty towel when reaching for a parcel. His stupidly pretty face only twitched in amusement seeing you hunched over and dripping wet. 

You’d been attempting to jimmy the cheap lock with a stray paper clip you found discarded nearby. It hadn’t gone well, as you’d been more focused on trying to keep your tits and thighs within the thin, cotton fabric.

(They really should make towels for bigger girls more accessible, honestly it was ridiculous!)

It hadn’t been your finest moment but he could have had the decency to look away. Instead, he leaned his broad shoulder against his doorway, content to watch you struggle. 

You’d snapped at him asking what his problem was and his only reply was ‘nippy in here, isn’t it?’ 

He did eventually help you break into your flat, but only after you’d called him as many names as you could think of. He’d waited out your tantrum without as much of a twitch. He’d simply taken the paper clip from you and sank to the floor in front of the doorknob.

His big hands were surprisingly much more dexterous than yours. You’d never admit to the lump in your throat or the shudder starting at your toes while staring at the long brown digits.

It didn’t help that his whiskey colored eyes bore into yours with an unspoken question when you made a panicked sound. The side of his head had grazed your breasts and the back of the hand holding your towel when he shifted on his knees. The light touch was clearly accidental, but still molten lava shot through you like a rocket on fire.

Intrusive thoughts of him kneeling before you in another context caused you to choke on your saliva. You tried so hard to clear your throat subtly but an embarrassing wheezing sound still managed to escape. Add insult to injury, the infuriating man had to pat your back when your body wracked with coughs.

You weren’t proud that you told him to fuck right off when he finally got the door open. You ignored his sarcastic ‘You’re welcome, luv” and slammed the door in his smug face. 

That was nearly two years ago and the start of your vendetta against the irritating neighbor.

Per usual, he finds you just outside your doorway causing a scene. This time, you’re being clung to by your now ex-fiancés mistress.

Madelyn’s wails are loud, keening things that are razor sharp against your eardrums. Her tearful pleading is loud enough for you to miss the ding of the elevator as it stops on your floor. 

Kyle strides from the lift like a living bronzed Adonis. 

With gritted teeth you curse every deity known to mankind.

Wonderful. Truly, amazing actually!

He’s clearly coming back from a run, His arms are comically large and gleaming with a thin layer of sweat on his brown skin. You’re able to make out the intricate tattooed shield containing the numbers ‘141’ on his bicep. It’s the first you’d seen of it (not that you were keeping an eye out for it before). 

His sleeveless jumper is damp and half zipped to show off a view of his firm pectorals and the first row of his 6-pack. You’re about to peek lower to his loose gym shorts when he catches your stray perusal and raises a singular brow.

“Everything alright, love?”

“Just peachy, Kyle, thank you.” you snipe in a clipped tone. “Please feel free to run along.”

Your snarky dismissal is prickly enough that most people would call you a cunt but would blessedly sod off. 

The disgustingly fit nuisance just removes his headphones from around the cartilage of his ears and continues to linger just outside his door with crossed arms. Behind Madelyn’s trembling back you make a harried shoo-ing gesture. It’s meant to somehow relay that you had everything under control. 

You did not of course, but the last thing you could stand right now is Kyle fucking Garrick in the mix of this shit-show. No matter how angelic the bastard looked in the dim lighting of the hallway, he had an uncanny ability to piss on all of your emotional reserves. 

“Siggy!” Madelyn’s blubbering cuts off Kyle's next words. “I’m so, SO sorry!” She immediately descends into another fit of sobs against your cleavage. 

There’s a bit of an awkward lull when Kyle snorts out a laugh.“You think she can breathe in there?”

With closed eyes you lean your head back to look at the ceiling, shooting a ‘fuck you very much’ to the universe. 

You’d come home 20 minutes prior with murderous miasma cloaking you like a second skin. After being publicly dumped (without even the comfort of sweets to soothe the humiliation) you’d gone straight back to work just to deal with piles upon piles of paperwork. 

Your only reprieve was Hugo’s mother canceling her standing appointment with you. You’d still been forced to work with the old woman’s assistant and to your disdain, he was just as persnickety as his employer.

By the time you’d made it home on aching feet and a splitting headache your thoughts were filled with the desire to stuff yourself with a big fat American cheeseburger. Specifically one from the shady shop around the corner that you suspect may be a mafia front. They made damn good cheeseburgers though. 

Your mind had then of course wondered to the possibility of being caught up in a police raid and if ‘wanting to support local business’ be a good enough excuse to get you off the hook.

It’s how you missed the pint sized ambush lying in wait for you.

Madelyn had been planted outside your door in electric pink spandex and light up sneakers. She’d spotted you coming out of the lift and attached herself onto you before you could make a proper run for it.

Since then you’d been stuck holding her instead of the greasy end of a heart attack masquerading as a sandwich. Fat tears continue to wet the collar of the fleece outer coat you’d nabbed at a bargain sale.

“How long has she been like this?” Kyle asks with a raised brow.

Ignoring him, you do your best to wrestle Madelyn’s stiff form back enough to meet her eyes. 

The younger girl’s face is red and splotchy, snot and mascara darkened tears stain her usually fair skin. Her mousy brown hair could use a wash as well but you aren’t unkind enough to point it out. Even though she did shag your husband to be, it was clear the girl was torturing herself with guilt.

It is a bit unfair that the smudged makeup does nothing to detract from her beauty, much to your petty disdain. 

She’d make gorgeous babies with Hugo…

The thought makes you scowl. It was time to make a retreat.

“Madelyn, I’d really like to get into my flat. I don’t want to speak to you to be honest and I need you to let me go.”

More helpless wailing comes out of the younger woman.

“P-Please Siggy, I just need you to know I never meant for this to happen! Hugo and I tried to keep away from each other and I don't want you to hate me or the b-baby!” By the end she’s blubbering herself into hyperventilation. 

From the corner of your eyes you can make out the door of your neighbor adjacent to you crack open. Whipping your neck to get a look at the nosy pissant gets the older woman to slam the door closed with a fearful squeak. 

This had gone on too long.

Forcibly you use your hip and extra weight to maneuver the hysterical woman from your person. You hold her flailing arms to prevent her from launching herself back to your front. When she whines you’ve finally reached your breaking point.

“For fucks sake, you’re making a bloody scene!” You bark out, “I don’t care about Hugo!”

Madelyn flinches.

“But you care that we’re having a baby, right?”

It’s only when Madelyn lets out a whine of pain that you notice you’d been holding her thin wrists in a vice-like grip.

A forgotten Kyle chooses that moment to slink closer, his hands cup Madelyn’s shoulder carefully, despite your death glare.

“Maddy, darling, why don’t you let go for me.”

The brunette woman startles having finally noticed his presence in the vicinity. 

“Oh, Kyle! I didn’t know you were here!” It’s insulting how quickly she wriggles from your hold to catapult herself into Kyle’s waiting arms. 

With disgust you watch Kyle pat the shorter woman’s hair much like one would do a pet. Something about watching him with her makes your hackles rise farther.

“Why don’t you come in and calm down, hm? I’ll make you that tea you like and we can watch something.” Kyle makes a humming noise meant to soothe. It pisses you off but seems to work like a charm.

Madelyn’s sniffles subside dramatically and she rubs her hand across her button nose.

“Yes, that does sound lovely, but I need to talk to Siggy...”

You flinch as the two turn towards you once more. Kyle must see the cornered look in your eyes because he rubs his hands along Madelyn’s shoulders and whispers something in her ear. 

Madelyn nods and enters Kyle’s flat without any further hesitation.

It’s like the nearly thirty minutes of being held hostage outside your own home means nothing against his soft words.

God, you hate this man with every fiber of your being.

With a scowl you rummage through your bag for your house keys. Why did you have so many gum wrappers inside? You really need to clean your bag out. 

It’s not until you hear a throat clear that you realize Kyle still watches you from the threshold of his home.

“What?” Your tone makes a muscle in his cheek twitch. You hate to say it but it satisfies you to know at least you have some effect on him.

“Are you alright, love?” 

That causes you to abandon your search. You squint at his open expression and the genuine concern you see there. It’s unexpected and makes you a bit uncomfortable. How pathetic did you look that even your enemies pity you?

“I’m fine. Not like you actually care anyways.”

The last part was said in a mumble but Kyle’s sharp ears catch it. 

“Oy, what is that supposed to mean?” He steps closer to you crowding your space. 

Your senses are bombarded by the heady scent of the bergamot and cedar wood notes in his cologne. Coupled with the tangy smell of his natural musk, your brain does that thing where it shuts off and reboots itself.

“Siggy.” Kyle reaches out to touch your arm sending an electric current between you two that causes you to jolt back. He frowns, stepping closer, crowding you before you wield your bag in front of you like a shield and sword. 

“Garrick, I really, really don’t want to talk right now.” 

“Sig-”

“No, no, no! I don’t want to hear it! I’ve had a shite day and the cause of it is currently waiting for tea and cakes in your flat! I’m the one that deserves bloody tea and cakes for fucks sake!”

Enraged, you shove your hand through your bag and come in contact with the puff ball attached to your keys. 

You’re frantically unlocking your door and shoving inside your home, refusing to give the universe another moment to make a mess of your ruined day.

You look at Kyle as he stands in utter confusion and give him the dirtiest look in your arsenal. 

“Cheers, I hope you enjoy your sweets with Madelyn but you can piss right off, Kyle!” 

You slam the door with finality.

<< Previous | Masterlist | Next >>

[mrsparrasblog]

Randome TF141 headcanons

Some of them are weird. But I just know.

Price:

Never go to the toilet after him

has a hut in the forest for fishing but mostly ends up fucking a local in there

because this man is a whore

he is still the most loyal when he is in a relationship

his favorite food is Shepard's pie or red jelly but not the green one and no one understands why

has so hard Daddy issues that he fathers everyone

uses AXE dark temptation to get rid of the cigar smell in his house

smells like Tom Ford tobacco vanilla

his love language is gift - giving and acts of service

NSFW:

he is a munch everyone knows it but still he is the biggest munch

Breeding kink

He is a whore but just because he thinks he doesn't deserve more than a one nighstands , please give this man a soft wife to dot on - preferably me

he hates Anal sex but riming is okay in his cards

says he is straight but bottomed Simon and Johnny on many occasions and likes to get blowies from or favorite pretty boy :)

prefers hair down there

Ghost:

He only Shops at Lidl you will never see him at Tesco or Sainsbury, even with all the coupons and tricks Lidl is cheaper. You will never see him somewhere else.

He hates London with all his heart, if there were a hate page for London he would be the admin. Dirty tube, bad football, and too many tourists.

He has a deep hate against a parrot, if parrots have zero haters he is dead.

Read Jane Austin and enjoyed it.

Has a book of stupid jokes in his apartment and laughs about them

When he is in love he is the cutest man alive, but somehow still creepy, he knows your favorite things in everything even your favorite underwear company even tho you never told anyone.

uses 5 - 1 shampoo .... from Lidl (still very keen on hygiene) 

NSFW 

He watches stepsiblings' porn unapologetically 

Has a mommy kink. I could go into heavy detail about it

He isn't a rough lover more of a service Dom 

Doesn't care about hair down there

Soap: 

He sometimes feels left out in his family, his siblings have children and "normal" jobs. His family doesn't see his lifestyle as something to be proud of

Except for his mom, he is such a momma boy but in a good way.

Was a sperm doner once (more than once) but only because he is a good guy with fertile genes 

His mohawk was an accident, he decided it looked "fresh" so it stayed.

Watches DC instead of Marvel...... why?

Uses Hugo Boss, bottled Night, got it from his grandma, and never used anything else

NSFW: 

Gaz was his BI awakening: after las Almas and the broken shoulder he couldn't wank himself properly, and he got so frustrated because he couldn't even sleep properly with a woman because of it, and he didn't just want to go to the Pub and say "Hey my shoulder is broken can you wank me". So in his half-drunk state, he asked Gaz. And after promising each other they would never talk about it, Kyle did help him. Johnny never cummed that fast. He isn't sure if it was because of Kyle's skilled hands, Kyle's fucking hot body, or that he didn't have a wank in two weeks. And when Kyle licked his cum that was his awakening that he likes men and Women. Of course, he returned the favor after he was healed:)

His favorite porn category is Woman Masturbating or Male Masturbating, everything that is solo is 100000 times better than "real porn".

He lost his Virginity very Young to an older Woman. Johnny always flexed about this, but this isn't a reason to flex.

When you sleep with him - you need to be on the pill because he is mister fucks so hard that every condom breaks.

He wears lingerie sometimes - he pulls it better off than some of us :(

cums way too fast but can last like 4-6 rounds 

loves tit fucking

Gaz: 

smells like Bleu de Chanel 

had a more expensive skincare routine than you 

he loves skincare 

He grew up with two moms.

He loves listening to Taylor Swift. No one can convince me otherwise.

Is deeply in love with me

He played Rugby in school. If he hadn't joined the Military, he would be a professional Rugby player.

Kyle was still somehow that awkward kid in class. Even needed to change the school because he got bullied.

NSFW:

He was disappointed in Johnny's cock sucking skills, but Price is a different breed.

can pull anyone and is mister give everyone an orgasm, not once in his life did he let his lover unsatisfied

had a foursome once when he was like 23, with three girls who were obsessed with him, and who can judge them

he is a guy who doesn't kiss and tell

his fav porn category is Anal Sex

has a CNC kink but is afraid to ask

is shaven down there but doesn't care if you are or not.

I have so much more ahhhh

[pansy-picnics]

Emeryposting today….I mentioned a while ago that i never really talked about her lore so here it is 😵‍💫 “foster fail person edition” as my friend ky described it

as for How they actually ended up in corona: In short some of the first policies implemented by Eugene (who works in social work rather than as captain of the guard in my au) included two things: the very early workings of a foster care system, and a youth program, which allowed adolescents who aged out of the orphanage (around 13-14) to be assigned to apprenticeships, giving them shelter and a potential career when they may otherwise be tossed out, leading them to turn to crime to survive.

both of these programs actually ended up being so successful in corona that other kingdoms (specifically those with very large populations of orphans…) wanted to send kids in that direction as well!

Emery was born in ingvarr and orphaned when she lost her mother, Florence, at around three years old to a preventable illness. with no other known family available to take her in, she lived in an orphanage for a little less than a year. when this particular facility was preparing to send some teens over to corona for apprenticeships (think kind of like the 1850s orphan train program), emery ended up sneaking in with the group by mistake, and due to overcrowding in ingvarr’s child welfare system nobody really noticed until it was too late….😭😭😭 very worrisome for eugene who expected a group of teenagers and got a bonus little girl who was like. barely past toddler age 😭

i dont think whoever was running the orphanage was like, evil or anything though, just really stressed and overworked. they definitely worried when emery was gone, but eugene managed to get in contact and reassure them she was okay, and to save on travel costs they sent over the little info they had of her and entrusted her in eugene’s care.

In the meantime though, the twins (around 7 at the time) had a new playmate and were having the Time Of Their Lives, introducing them to everyone like she was a weird little wild animal they found or something like “Can we keep her 🥺” GAHAHAHAHA. Ilmari (10) also liked their weird little ass although they really didn’t want to admit it, they were very bossy and protective of her in that “older sister who thinks they’re hot shit” kinda way

meanwhile varian and hugo, now newly in their 30s, married, and still childless (and very happy about this decision mind you, they SAW what uknighted dream went through) are lowkey getting a little bored and looking to maybe do some travelling with nuru and yong again. They had heard about the ingvarr kids and, knowing hugo’s history, eugene had offered them to take an apprenticeship, but for a variety of reasons they had decided to decline for now…. …..And then they find out abt this four year old who apparently just Showed Up and now nobody knows what to do with her and var and hugo IMMEDIATELY get attached.

. So. obviously they didn’t have much else to do so why not.

[jellitchi]

vat7k designs in my head...

i thought their canon designs were a eensy weensy bit Unpolished so i made these mostly for myself. erm if u rly want it i think varian is 19 here, hugo 19, nuru 18, yong 12.

i also made rhem all playlists and had to draw them a cover so thats what the last img is I linked each of em under my notes for all of em... Under the cut is Like a Huge Infodump of notes i have for each chara,,,,,,

i kept varians design basically the same, i dislike the design w the orange neck thing so i just Nuked it😭... Here's Varians playlist

Hugos design i just wanted to put him in something more Loose. hes a thief, a professional escape artist. i dont think wearing clunky metal is ideal for him. i also gave him a prosthetic arm (blond w no arm design trope!) but u cant see it in the ref so i added another drawing of him in his under layering👍 i vaguely referenced russian(?) clothes for him as well... Yeah not too much changed w him i just tried to make him slippery-er. Here's Hugo's playlist

yong came relatively easy to me, if it wasn't obvious i did rip gaming from g*nshin's hoodie. i thought the lion hood was Adorable and freaking perfect for what i had in mind for hos character. since the og notes said the fire kingdom is loosely Chinese inspired i basically just kept that. i mashed tgt a buncha diff dynasties though sorry for how inconsistent i was... i think he looks Okay. anyways i changed yongs role a bit, ill explain why im adjusting some of their roles later but i kept yong as the Jinx Type character. hes the eldest in his family and has a buncha younger siblings, hes a lion dancer and does performances w his family/siblings. he rly like special effects n keeps tryna incorporate his fireworks into their performances (it flops and he has to sew up the dmg) ill explain more of yongs role in another post maybe shrugs... Here's Yong's Playlist

miss nuru was a bit of a struggle for me i might share my full design process with her coz i did a Bunch of mockups for her😭😭😭... i didnt have a specific country of reference for her but i chose to make her vaguely south asian inspired. i also really wanted to keep the sheer fabric w the star / constellation map. i love that idea its so cute so shes still technically the navigator. but she also wields a sword too, fencing or whatever. (her and varian r Huge Cass fangirls which is probably why she started tryna use a sword (snuck out to watch cass compete) Okay ill talk abt this later) in my head, okay ill Probably make a whole nother post talking abt how im interpreting/writing each chara, but in my head i think nuru is the youngest and her kingdom's archivist. shes mostly in charge of like Her kingdoms history / artifacts / etc. ok im getting too side tracked ill save the lore dump for later but thats Nurus role in the party. Here's Nuru's Playlist

uhm below i made their character stats mostly to help me with planning / role developing. the yellow is their base stats the color behind is their end stats i guess. i was gonna explain my reasoning for their stats but ermm this post is kinda Really long so sorry😭... varian max int for obvious reasons, also max charisma just coz i feel like u kinda learn a thing or two being around a couple manipulators and spending time in jail idk shrugs... (also lets not forget the "ud b surprised what ppl would do for a cookie!") Hugo slippery guy, if a brick is thrown at him as hes running hes gonna try n run faster to shatter it, his mindset is Run Run Run! i think hes relatively agile too but yeah mostly a Speedster. i think he n varian got no Physical strength varian maybe just like A little coz Farm boy but I rly doubt quirin is making him do a Lotta heavy lifting. yong has incredible stamina and agility because hed a performer. nuru is the strongest coz this team would literally Flop without a proper Offense😭... i think varian n hugo r able to outwit plenty of their opponents but i think nuru is pretty good in a fight, same w yong. Yeah Okay Sorry for a Long Long Post thanks hope u guys enjoy

[fanfic-obsessed]

Failing to Thrive then Thriving in failure

I just had the funniest notion. Time travel comedy, but the twist is that Palpatine is the one to go back in time. 

So we start just after Kenobi, Palpatine has been emperor for about a decade, he succeeded. The Sith plan is complete, he has everything he had dreamed of and worked toward for a decade…and he is so bored. He never realized that 90% of his joy actually came from pretending to be a benevolent Chancellor and the intrigue of fooling people.  Now he has shown his true colors and could not go back to pretending (it simply would not work). Being the Sith in charge is not as fun as he thought it would be. Even getting to openly torture people has lost its appeal after 10 years.

It’s ok for Vader. For one Vader was never interested in those intrigues in the first place. For two 45% of Vader brain is taken up by trying to resurrect Padme Amidala, 50% is taken up by Obi Wan Kenobi (Palpatine is not sure if Vader wants to kill Kenobi, Kriff Kenobi, make Kenobi tuck Vader in every night and tell him is it going to be alright, Force Kenobi to help Vader resurrected Padme, or make sure Kenobi is eating, taking care of himself, and has a good enough blanket), leaving only 5% for everything else.  

Frankly if this is what Kenobi had to deal with before the war, Palpatine is somewhat impressed he got anything done.

Vader isn’t bored. Palpatine’s assorted lesser minions are not bored, they are living the dream of being as bigoted as their little fascist hearts desire. But Palpatine just could not find joy any longer. 

I do want it clear. Palpatine is not repentant. He does not regret the deaths that he caused, the genocide, the enslavement, any of it. He’s just bored. 

One day Palpatine finds a book, or maybe an artifact, or possibly a scrap of paper with an archaic formula. The title roughly translates to ‘Sith Master Time Travel’ (Listen The Son was also very bored, and being outside of Space Time meant He wanted to see what would happen). Palpatine is able to time travel, but only as far back as when he became a Sith Master. It was also a one time deal, he would not be able to use the method again AND it would destroy his origin timeline (not that that actually factored into Palpatine’s decision at all).  Not to mention he would essentially be possessing and killing his previous, alternate timeline self. 

Of course Palpatine time travels. He goes all the way back to the moment he became the Sith Master (it turns out the Sith titles are not just titles), looking at the still warm corpse of Hugo Damask, just as the Naboo crisis is wrapping up. 

Now Palpatine had already decided to do some things differently.  At first he was still working outward the Grand Sith Plan, if trying to keep his ‘Kindly Politician’ mask a bit longer, however he has decided that instead of Vader (or possibly in addition to Vader, if things get boring again) he will get Obi Wan Kenobi as his apprentice, figuring that there must have been a reason that every Sith Apprentice for 20 years ends up obsessed with the man (also because he thinks it would be funny to corrupt the Jedi’s ‘Guiding Light’). Dooku and all the pieces needed to start the Clone wars are already mostly in place. It is just a matter of maintaining until the clones are the right age.  So he does what he needs to to maintain the Empire building plans and decides to focus on corrupting Obi Wan. 

He fails, utterly. He fails so fully that Obi Wan did not even notice his attempts at corruption. Like he knew it would take time to corrupt a Jedi, he had done before after all, but he still expected at least a little change within the first year. There was nothing. 

And it was not a case of Obi Wan not trusting Palpatine. This is still a decade before the war. Obi Wan is a grieving, freshly knighted,  trying to keep up with a nine year old with somewhat unique trauma. Palpatine knows how to get Obi Wan to feel comfortable and trust him (Palpatine probably knows too well how to get Obi wan to feel comfortable and trust him, between Dooku and Vader). Obi Wan is just, for a given value, incorruptible. 

Now Palpatine’s obsession switch has been flipped. He went into it thinking that corrupting Obi Wan would be a fun side project, a way to pass the time.  He was wrong.  He knows from the previous timeline that torture would not be effective (Listen if the torture mask specifically built to corrupt lightsiders did not make a dent after a month it is pretty well proven that torture will not cause Kenobi to fall, Palpatine knows this) nor would killing Kenobi’s loved work (again, if it didn’t last time we have some pretty concrete proof). 

So now we have Palpatine trying every method he can think of to seduce Kenobi the darkside, always just shy of admitting to being a Sith or being creepy. To the point that he has actually forgotten the Empire building he was doing. He kind of even forgets to be Sidious.  He almost ghosts Dooku, before he remembers that Dooku is Kenobi’s grandfather(that is not the correct term, Dooku tries to correct Palpatine an even dozen times before giving up) and gets Dooku involved in the corruption that is STILL. GOING. NOWHERE.

Dooku basically becomes Grandpa Dooku to both Obi Wan and Anakin, and falls back into the Light while trying unsuccessfully to corrupt Obi Wan to the Dark. Due to darkside vow complications (also because I think it would be really funny) Dooku is not able to say, imply, or otherwise do anything to make the Jedi suspicious that Palaptine is a Sith. Also, to a certain extent he thinks that as long as Palpatine is focused on corrupting his incorruptible grandson, the other Sith is not thinking about galactic domination (To be fair he is correct).  

Palpatine spends most of his time trying to corrupt Obi Wan, while keeping up the act used to maintain Obi Wan’s trust. The thing is Palpatine is fully aware that Anakin in the original timeline was about observant as a particularly dense brick wall and would not have realized that the persona of ‘My friend Palaptine’ did not match the reality of ‘My pal Friendpatine’. Obi Wan would realize if his act was not consistent. 

So Palpatine decided to keep the act up 24/7.  And everyone knows that your actions become your habits become your personality. 

Somewhere in year 8 Palpatine forgets how to Sith. 

Technically he is still a darksider but not the extra layer of fucked up that comes from being an actual Sith. And he still has not even made a dent in Obi Wan’s light. He has also, almost single handedly, derailed the war that had been brewing and fixed about 40% of the corruption in the Senate.  All without killing a single senator.

Palpatine spends most of his time very confused. 

Palpatine lets his term as Chancellor end, having gone down in history as one of the most beloved Chancellors in history.  The Clones are found and mostly are inducted as an arm of the Jedi Order. Jango Fett is given a metric ton of therapy, which helps him see that the Jedi were not actually at fault for Galidraan (Jango had, in fact, been the person to escalate things to violence) before he is allowed to take Boba back into the galaxy. By that point the Clones want little to do with him. 

For the rest of his life Palpatine tries, unsuccessfully, to corrupt Obi Wan (who never noticed). At this point he is genuinely friends with a number of Jedi (He and Mace Windu have a surprising amount in common, including a love of the theater and a mild exasperation for Anakin Skywalker's antics). He is an honored guest at both the CodyWan and the Anidala Weddings (including a Jedi based wedding ceremony).

Honestly he is having the most fun of his life. 

He is also never caught as a darksider. He never figures out how that is possible either.

[books]

Writer Spotlight: Rose Sutherland

Rose Sutherland @rosesutherlandwrites is a Toronto-based writer who grew up a voracious reader with an overactive imagination in Nova Scotia (where she once fell off a roof trying to re-enact Anne of Green Gables!). She's been to theatre school in NYC, apprenticed at a pâtisserie in rural France, and currently moonlights as an usher and bartender—in between writing queer folktales, practicing yoga, dancing, singing, searching out amazing coffee and croissants, and making niche jokes about Victor Hugo on the internet. She's mildly obsessed with the idea of one day owning a large dog, several chickens, and maybe a goat. A Sweet Sting of Salt is her debut novel.

Keep reading for more about character arcs in A Sweet Sting of Salt, Rose's favorite fanfic tropes, and some excellent reading recs 👀

Can you tell us about A Sweet Sting of Salt and how you came to write it?

A Sweet Sting of Salt is a queer (f/f) historical reimagining of the classic folktale of the selkie wife, set in 1830’s Nova Scotia. I call it a “reimagining” because while it draws on the folktale, it’s not a retelling of that tale so much as a story playing out in relation to that mythology. I’d wanted to write something centering a love story between two women for a while, but the initial spark came from a Tumblr post! It suggested the idea of selkies testifying before the UN as victims of human trafficking, which reminded me of all the things I disliked about the original folktale and its inherent darkness that is generally glossed over, starting me down the rabbit hole toward finding my own story.

How did you approach research for A Sweet Sting of Salt, and what is a favorite historical fact you learned?

I joke that I did a lot of research by osmosis: I already had a lot of base knowledge about the location, having grown up in Nova Scotia, and then set the story in a period that I’ve been absorbing information about in a low-key way for ages—1832 is also the year of the student rebellion in Les Mis, so I’ve been gleaning tidbits about this era since I first got into the musical and book back in high school. However, I had to do more specific research into things like British divorce law, period midwifery, and animal husbandry. I also visited some small, hyper-local museums on the South Shore that gave me an invaluable glimpse into daily life. I also did some fun practical research into things like “How long does it take to walk from x to y?” and “How cold IS a plunge into this body of water in March?” (Spoiler: Very.) 

A fact that fascinated me but didn’t make it into the book was that some early European settlers in the area were granted lands by luck of the draw, pulling from a deck of playing cards: Each card was assigned to a specific 50-acre lot, and whatever you pulled, you were stuck with it.

When we meet them, Jean and Muirin are isolated for different reasons. What do you hope readers still searching for their people take away from A Sweet Sting of Salt?

That there’s always hope. It’s valuable and important to keep reaching out to the world around you, to be open, and not cut yourself off—the biggest reason for Jean’s loneliness at the beginning of this story is the way she has come to keep everyone around her at arm’s length, shutting herself away out of fear, and refusing to let anyone truly get to know her because she thinks that’s the best way to protect herself from being hurt again. Reaching out to others can take a real act of courage, especially if you’ve had bad experiences in the past, but “your people” will reach back to you.

Found family elements play a strong role throughout the novel, within supernatural and mundane settings and across species. Was this something you intended from the beginning, or did this grow out of writing the relationship between Jean and Muirin?

I always intended for Jean to have a found family of this type, which is something that a lot of queer people identify with, but those bonds also got stronger and more meaningful as I wrote, especially once Jean and Muirin began growing into their own family unit—their new relationship and the real danger that comes along with it put pressures on Jean’s other relationships that I hadn’t originally considered. Disagreements with Anneke and Laurie over Jean’s choices arise from their deep concern and love for her, and her own love and care for them, reflected in her responses, is a big part of what made them feel like a real family, for me. Jean and Laurie always having each other’s backs while also being the first to call one another out on their bullshit ended up being one of my favourite dynamics in the whole book.

The selkie myth carries an inherent element of transformation. What is a character transformation you most enjoyed writing, and why?

On a character level, the change in Jean’s worldview following a conversation with her childhood sweetheart meant a lot to me—it heals an old wound for her. I love how grounded and self-assured she is afterward, in spite of the daunting task still ahead of her. But my favourite transformation to write was the antagonist’s mask-off moment, where they directly threaten Jean for the first time. It’s so sly and coded so that only she will understand the menace behind it, a real dun-duh-dunnn moment, which was a lot of fun for me—I also enjoy the foreshadowing elements in that exchange.

This is your debut novel. Did anything surprise you about getting it from manuscript to published book?

Oh my gosh, how LONG it took! After I finished the original draft and decided it was worth attempting to publish, I spent over a year revising based on my own thoughts, input from beta readers, critique partners, and my mentor, Maureen Marshall (whom I connected with through the now defunct Author Mentor Match program, and whose book, The Paris Affair—about a young gay engineer attempting to help Gustave Eiffel secure the funding to build a certain celebrated Parisian landmark— is coming out in May). After that came a full year of querying agents and getting rejected. A lot. People loved Salty but weren’t quite sure what to do with her or where the book would fit in “the market,” which was hard to deal with at the time but is hilarious in retrospect: Salty was snapped up less than a month after she finally went out on submission! But that was back in 2022, and the book is only coming out now. Publishing can be painfully slow.

You’ve written fanfic in the past—do you have a favorite fanfic trope?

I’m not sure either of these counts as a trope, but I adore a character that’s “pure of heart, dumb of ass”, and love a truly unhinged Fanon Explanation For Canon Object. As a longtime Les Mis stan, I ship Tholomyes/Getting Punched. If you know, you know.

Do you have any favorite queer retellings of folktales you can recommend?

Right here on Tumblr, I’m a huge fan of @laurasimonsdaughter, who writes delightful riffs on classic folktales, truly inventive urban fantasy spins on old lore, and her own original folktales. 

I’m currently reading Spear, an amazing queer, gender-bent, Arthurian novella by Nicola Griffiths. Anna Burke’s books Thorn and Nottingham are up next on my TBR. Lately, I’ve been reading a lot of brilliant queer historicals that aren’t retellings (I recently loved Suzette Meyr’s The Sleeping Car Porter and Heather O’Neil’s When We Lost Our Heads) and wonderful historical retellings that aren’t queer (I highly recommend Molly Greeley’s beautiful, heartbreaking Marvelous, about the real-life couple that inspired Beauty and the Beast). Queer, historical retellings aimed at adults seem to be considered quite niche, still, and can take some digging to find! So, throwing this out to Tumblr: Do you have recommendations for me?

Do you have a writing routine? Is there a place/state of being/playlist you find most conducive to your writing practice?

My routine is chaotic at best, but I find I do my best work earlier in the day, so I usually scribble in my journal while I have breakfast, and then progress to working on my current project as I drink my second cup of coffee. I’m lucky—my day job is an evening gig, which mostly allows me to write on my preferred schedule… but I’ve also been known to have a bolt of inspiration strike at 10pm and dash home to write until well past midnight on occasion. Nothing quite like the hyperfocus zone!

What’s next for you? Are you working on anything you can tell us about?

No official news yet, but I’m currently working on a story set in 18th-century provincial France based on a true unsolved mystery of the past. It has me delving into a very specific branch of French folklore, and I hope future readers will pick up on common threads with one popular fairytale in particular. I’m really excited about where this one is headed, but keeping the details close to my chest for now!

Thank you Rose for taking the time to answer our questions! If you love queer fantasy and old folktales, grab yourself a copy of A Sweet Sting of Salt, and be sure to share your queer folktale reading recs with Rose on @rosesutherlandwrites!

[la-pheacienne]

Mystery of "Night begins to descend upon Grantaire" solved (continuing this post)

@everyonewasabird @pilferingapples So because I am insane and couldn't sleep I went through hundreds of pages of the manuscript on Gallica and finally found the text and it's CANON. What Grantaire said with an "indescribable sweetness" was not "let me sleep here", it was "you know I believe in you" (tu sais que je crois en toi) but Hugo wrote it on the margin of the page and so faintly I almost missed it but thankfully I spent 1 hour scanning every centimeter of this page because I'm nuts.

Also if anyone wonders (no one) Grantaire said "you'll see" only once, not twice as some translations show, and here is the proof:

Two remarks:

At first the "you know I believe in you" seemed random to me, because I was not used to it (since my version doesn't have it). Then I realized that ACTUALLY it has to be there. When Enjolras says "you're incapable of believing, of thinking, of wanting, of living and of dying" he's referring to two things Grantaire said : that he believes in him, and that he's willing to die there, for him. "Believing", and "dying" are the beginning and the end of his phrase. He's wrong in both, as we know. Grantaire is capable of believing (in Enjolras) and of dying in the barricade. The text has a perfect harmony this way.

What is driving me absolutely crazy is that Hugo added probably the two most meaningful exchanges E x R had on the margin as an afterthought, as a correction, and I'm talking about "you know I believe in you" and "you'll see". Like he wrote the draft and then was like, that's mid. I'm not going for mid, let me throw a phrase there to give it an extra oomph that will make tumblr girlies lose their minds and their sleep 200 years later. You don't get it, he was working for us. First incident of fanservice recorded in the history of human kind - and the editors MISSED IT. CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR

[onceuponastory]

just a kiss

Plot: Frustrated by Y/N and Bucky's refusal to admit their feelings for one another, Natasha decides to take matters into her own hands. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: None. Just some fluff, and reader and Bucky being shy, flustered idiots who can't admit their feelings for each another. Notes: Recently I rewatched the episode of Vicar of Dibley where she helps Alice and Hugo kiss for the first time, and I love that scene so much, so I just knew I had to write it for reader and Bucky. This is just a sweet, lighthearted, crack fic. I hope you like it!

Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“Y/N, you’re staring at Bucky again.” Natasha murmurs, not even looking up from her magazine.

“No I’m not!” She stammers, clearly embarrassed. 

“Yes, you are.” A reply comes, still buried from the depths of the magazine. “Why won’t you just tell him how you feel already?”

“I can’t.” She sighs. Y/N never meant for this to happen, of course. But then again, nobody ever plans this sort of thing. To fall so deeply, irrevocably in love with her best friend that her heart feels like it’s doing backflips every time he walks by. And she did try to tell him, honestly. Things just got in the way. 

Before she could tell him, there’d be a mission sending one of them away, or an impromptu emergency calling her home. And maybe (although she doesn’t want to admit it) part of the reason she hasn’t said anything yet is because she’s too scared of taking the first step. Of laying her feelings on the line and not knowing what she’ll get back. Would she get them right back with a neat little bow on top? Or would they be completely destroyed?

Natasha, though, knows everything. Both about Y/N’s crush on Bucky… and his crush on her, just as big as Y/N's crush. After all, she seems to be the one they both come to when they need someone to rant about their feelings to. And the fact they’ve not said a word to each other about it is driving her crazy.

After all, there’s only so many times you can hear “God, Bucky looks so hot today.” And “How do you think I should tell her?” before you lose it. So, Natasha soon decides that if they’re not going to say anything, she’ll say it for them.

The next morning, she and Y/N are sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee together when Bucky walks into the room, filling his own cup. Already, Natasha can see the apprehension in their eyes. “Showtime.” She smirks. “Bucky, I was just thinking. Doesn’t Y/N look beautiful today?” He looks over, raising a brow.

“She’s just in her pyjamas.” Immediately, his face turns bright red, and his eyes widen. “Not that you don’t always look beautiful, Y/N it’s just-“ as Bucky stammers his way through the sentence, Natasha rolls her eyes.

“This is the guy who was a super powered assassin?” 

“Oh, thanks Bucky.” Y/N smiles softly, somehow not noticing how flustered he is around her. Or if she did, she doesn't mention it. “You look really handsome, too.” Natasha grins. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

“You think so?” Bucky gasps softly, and Y/N nods. 

“You always look handsome, Bucky.” They both mumble a ‘thanks’ to one another before silence falls again. 

“Is there anything you two want to say to each other?” Natasha asks, looking between them both. Yet, neither says anything. They keep staring at each other, each clearly wanting to say something, but unable to. Natasha suppresses a groan. Here it comes. They’re going to bury their feelings all over again. “Oh my god!” she exclaims, massaging her temples. “This is insufferable. You two are insufferable.” 

“What are you talking about?” Bucky furrows his brow.

“Look.” Natasha huffs. “You.” She gestures to Bucky. “Like her.” Another gesture, this time to Y/N. “And she likes you back. So there’s no need to be so nervous around each other.” For a moment, she expects Y/N or Bucky to be angry at her revelation, to tell her it’s none of her business, and they’d reveal it themselves when the time was right.

Instead, though, the complete opposite happens.

“You… like me?” Y/N gasps. Chuckling, Bucky nods, running a hand through his hair.

“Y/N, I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.” He admits, his cheeks flushing red once more.

“I never knew that.” Y/N gets up, walking over to him. “I’ve loved you for a while too, probably just as long as you loved me. But I was too scared to tell you the truth, because I thought you didn’t like me back… I’m so glad to hear you do.” Bucky grins, chuckling.

“Well….” He trails off.

“Just fucking kiss already!” Natasha groans. Slowly, Bucky moves his head towards Y/N. At first, the kiss is soft and tentative, as if they’re afraid of hurting each other. But as time passes, they release their emotions and the kiss becomes more passionate. As the pair wrap their arms around each other, Natasha watches on, beaming with pride.

A few hours later.

“Hey Nat, Stark wants you to sign this report.” Steve informs her, sticking his head into the room. 

“Okay, pass it over.” When the blonde notices Y/N and Bucky in the corner, he furrows his brow.

“Are they…okay?” Natasha glances over at them, still making out. They’d come up for air a few moments ago, before hungrily returning their lips to one another. She smirks.

“Oh yeah, they’re just fine.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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