#I'm pretty sure they came out at the same time

[aboutcustardcreams]

Wake up call

Agathario x reader

Another scene I'm deeply in love with is Agatha and Rio's fight happening in the first episode. So, here it is what would happen with r joining it.

Rio leaned closer to Agatha with a lopsided grin, “I’ve missed you,” she purred, tracing her former lover’s jawline with the curved blade in her hand. 

Agatha’s chest rose and fell, an expression of pure hatred flashed upon her blue eyes, mingled with a hint of something else, mabe fear. “I hate you.”

Rio lolled her head back and laughed bitterly, “course, you do.” 

The day you and Agatha vowed to never see her face anymore, her heart shattered until nothing was left of it. But she was Lady Death, meaning that no matter what you wanted, someday your paths would cross again and that’s what kept her going. 

You had just parked in the driveway, when an explosion coming from inside the house alerted you. On your way back from the grocery store, your memories came back one by one, and you almost hit a pedestrian or two at the realization that you and Agatha had been trapped under a spell for about three years. And now that you were ‘awake’, you were pretty sure she was too. You quickly got out of the car and stepped inside, silently praying that Agatha was okay. 

Last person you thought you’d see was Rio. 

“Drop the dagger now,” your voice came out sharp and dangerous. 

Both witches snapped their heads towards you. Your eyes locked with Agatha’s first. She breathed a sigh of relief at your sight, her blue orbs filled with all sorts of thoughts. 

“Hello, mi nena,” Rio quipped, tone softening at the sight of you. “Glad you’re awake too. Agatha and I were just.. catching up, right?”

You took a step closer, keeping your eyes on Rio. “I see– rude of you to start without me,” there was a hint of sarcasm in your voice, that both witches grasped. “Now, don’t make me repeat myself, you know I hate it.” 

“Uhm, I don’t know.” Instead of listening to you, Rio pushed the blade deeper against Agatha. The witch struggled to keep the blade at distance, trembling while doing so. 

Your hands turned into fists, a gust of wind rose up around you. Objects started levitating, the chandelier in the lounge room swayed and Agatha’s lips curled upwards, happy to realize your powers were still part of you. 

The vibrancy of your magic brought back all sorts of memories of the time you three spent together. “Looks like our sweet girl over there is in control of her powers. How does it feel, Agatha?” Rio asked in a mocking tone. “Don’t you resent her like you resent me?” 

The purple witch was quick to shake her head, scoffing to herself at the same time. 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

When she looked at you, she saw one of the most incredible witches she ever had the pleasure to meet.

“You’re nothing like her.”

Rio let out a whiny sound, “why does she get special treatment and I don’t, huh?”

In the meantime, your irises turned the same color of your magic, a bright hue of silver and enveloped your entire body as well. 

“She did everything she could, while you–” she winced when the tip of the dagger pressed further against her skin. “What, huh? What are you blaming me for? I’m the natural order of all the things baby, and you know it. You always knew it!” 

When she pushed the blade further closer to her skin,  Agatha’s grip on Rio’s wrists loosened and the dagger scraped her. While Rio grinned at the sight of Agatha’s blood flowing so deliciously from her collarbone to her chestline, you levitated from the floor and your palms opened wide, exploding with your magic. 

“You’re nothing!” 

Rio let out a strangled yelp, as her body was thrown on the other side of the corridor. Agatha let out a sigh of relief, mouthing a fragile thank you in your direction as you rushed towards her. You didn’t say anything at first and simply hugged her, your heart thumping in your chest at incredible speed. 

“Are you hurt?” 

She shook her head, but you knew better. While that small cut wasn’t anything serious, you knew the pain in her heart was greater. You pressed your lips together, giving her a skeptical look. With a flick of your finger, you healed the wound on her skin,  and for some reason, it made Agatha feel even worse, but she didn’t say anything to you. 

Rio pulled herself up, stretching both arms and legs, “Ahw, did she make it better?” 

Agatha growled, fingers wiggling as if she could actually summon magic. 

You immediately stood in front of her, “don’t come any closer,” you warned her. 

The Green Witch hummed and her brows knitted in a frown, “where did I see this scene before?”

You swallowed thickly at the painful memories she was able to bring back with such ease. You had so many questions going on inside your head, the most important would probably be, why? Why the betrayal, why the lies, why the pain? 

“Cut the crap, Rio,” Agatha snapped, worrying about your sudden discomfort, “what do you want?”

She fake pouted at her angry tone, “you used to be much nicer to me,” with the tip of the blade, she moved a strand of hair from her face. And when you scoffed, a dark shadow passed through her eyes, “I’m just missing the old days. I want you back– in a way or another, meaning that if I have to kill you both, I will,” she added the last part with a strange look in her eyes. Almost hysterical. You only had a couple of seconds to react. Rio’s dagger flew in your direction, missing you and Agatha by a nose, as you shoved her to the side, shielding her with your body. 

Agatha grunted at the sound of Rio’s giggles, “I’m gonna kill her.” 

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “it’s not possible, unfortunately.” 

Propping yourself up, you helped Agatha do the same. 

While doing so, you spotted the dagger behind you. You pointed at it to Agatha with a nod of your head. She was closer to the weapon so she lunged forward to grab it. Rio ignored her and focused on you. She gave you little time to anticipate her move and with a yelp she sprung forward, fuelled by her magic. Before you knew it, her fingers tightened around your neck and squeezed. 

Her head lolled to the side, and watched you with a mixture of nostalgia and admiration, “naughty, naughty–”

“Let her go!” Before Agatha could even make an attempt to stab Lady Death on the shoulder, Rio sent her flying in the lounge room, her back hitting a cabinet that after the impact, crashed on top of her.  

Your eyes snapped open, as you squirmed but to no avail, “Agatha!” 

“Do you remember pain, my love?”

“I never stopped feeling it since the day you betrayed us.”

You still resented her for the things she did. And you probably would for the rest of your life. Her face dimmed and her lips pursed into a grimace; the grip around your neck loosened, but she didn’t let go. Was that disappointment settling in her chest? 

“You’re so clueless about the things I did for you.” 

Tears pricked at your eyes, but despite them a choked chuckle slipped from your lips. She did nothing for you, nor for Agatha and even less for Nicky. She only took, betrayed your trust and hurt you in the most inexplicable way. 

“All you did was make things worse.”

Rio snarled at your accusation,“you knew that messing with the Fates wasn’t without consequences!” 

Your answer came out in a faint, yet determined whisper, “you were the one to send them my way.” 

In the meantime, Agatha straightened herself out, wincing at the pain in her arms, as shreds of glass cut through her skin. She scanned the surroundings  in search of something, anything that could be used against Rio. While her eyes landed on a wooden tray, Rio blasted you against the wall behind you with full demoniac force, her voice distorted as well, sounding deeper and animalistic, “I had no other choice!”

Agatha mentally screamed at the chunks of plaster coming down at you. 

You whimpered, feeling Rio’s body towering over yours, “sorry, did it tickle too much?” 

Despite the dizziness, you found the sassiness to roll your shoulders, “No.” With the corner of your eye, you spotted Agatha coming your way, holding something in her hands. Realizing what it was made you almost chuckle. “But I bet this will.” 

Before Rio could ask you what you meant, the purple witch hit the back of her head with an angry growl and a deadly stare in the eye.  

“Dark Mother, I’m so sick of her,” she muttered, glancing back at you. 

You chuckled briefly, before erupting into a fit of coughs. Your throat felt on fire because of Rio. You were pretty sure it was bruising already for how much she squeezed. Agatha kneeled in front of you, her fingers hovering over your neck, but barely touching it, for fear of causing you extra pain,  “I’m sorry about–” 

“Don’t. The ‘s’ word isn’t allowed,” you chided her softly. She nibbled the inside of her cheek, blinking back the tears from her eyes. She hated feeling powerless, even more now considering you could really use some of her purple as backup.

Noticing the veil of sadness in her eyes, you tried to cheer her up, giving her a playful nudge, “what you did was rather hot by the way.” 

She snorted out a laugh, “are you turned on, love?” 

A playful smirk tugged at your lips, “maybe.”

She pulled you closer, tugging at the fabric of your blouse. Her forehead adhered against yours and you closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to inhale her sweet. Her hand ran from your collarbone up to your chin, her thumb gently grazed your bottom lip, pushing it down and making you smile. When you reopened your eyes, you took her hand in yours, and intertwined your fingers together in the attempt to brush aside all the worries you spotted in her eyes. 

Rio let out a frustrated growl, “Good job, Agatha. I’m impressed. A little higher and that would have really hurt.” 

On instinct, you tried to move Agatha behind you, but she resisted, making you frown. 

“Ugh!” Rio swept her tongue over her lips, “the way she would throw herself in Hell for you really warms my heart.” 

You said nothing because it was true. You would do the craziest things for her, just like you did for Nicky. 

Agatha smacked her lips, almost laughing in her face. “Please, you don’t have a heart.” 

Rio locked eyes with her, and for a moment you spotted a veil of hurt in her brown orbs. “Yes, I do,” she argued, before dropping her voice into a softer murmur, “it’s black and it beats for both of you.”

Agatha said nothing, while you couldn’t bring yourself to be quiet after that colossal lie, “you’re pathetic.”

Her gaze narrowed towards you; a flash of fury dimmed her features. “Madness turned you into a real brat. Perhaps you fancy another ride?” 

You swallowed thickly and turned stiff. Those words stung painfully, there was no point in hiding it. You hated how easily she could bring back the memories of your trauma, making you feel as if you were reviving it all over again. 

A single tear slipped from your eye, but you were quick to wipe it. Agatha’s hand found yours and squeezed; she felt your magic tickling her skin, it was mirroring your emotions and she knew it would burst soon. 

“You’re a monster,” Agatha’s voice came out in hiss. 

Then it happened. You let go of Agatha’s hand and tackled Rio on the floor. Her back hit the ground with force, and despite that, she laughed. You pinned her wrists above her head, digging your fingernails into her skin, wishing to hurt, to tear the skin apart, and make her feel even an ounce of the pain you endured because of her. 

Agatha’s eyes widened both in shock and surprise at your outburst. 

“My, my, aren’t you sexy when you’re mad?”

You smacked her across the face. Hard. 

“Woah, okay girl–”, she conceded, calling a truce, “tell me what you want.” 

“I want you to get the fuck out of my life.” 

Rio lifted her chin up, a dark chuckle escaped her lips, “All roads lead to me, mi nena. Whether you like it or not, you’ll die. Why can’t we speed up the process?” 

“You’re not allowed to kill us,” your voice dropped in an icy growl. 

“I second that,” Agatha quipped. 

Rio scoffed amusedly, “are you sure about that?” Before you could respond with another sassy remark, she headbutted you straight on the nose. You fell to the side, letting go of Rio’s wrists and allowing her to flee from your grasp. You groaned and cursed under your breath, when she kicked your side with the boot of her shoe. Agatha took you in her arms, as quickly as she could, then started crawling backwards with you firmly pressed against her chest, “you okay?” 

“Fine,” you croaked out, in annoyance. 

By the look on your bloody face, she realized you’d very well use a break. 

But Rio seemed to have other ideas, the knife was back in her hand as she approached you. 

“Wait, just wait a damn second–” Agatha held out a hand towards the Green Witch, while the other remained wrapped around your underarms. 

Rio hummed and traced the tip of the blade with her fingertips. 

“This isn’t what you want. Plus, I don’t have any powers so it’s not exactly a fair fight, is it?” She gave a nervous chuckle, hoping her words would buy you some time to recover. “Don’t you want us at our best?” 

Rio grinned, with a devilish light in her eyes, “Horizontal, in  a grave?”

“Not exactly,” she muttered, “I mean, in full control of our powers. Just let me get my purple back, let her recover and if you really want to– come back and find us.”

Your breath hitched, it was hard to breathe properly with the blood clogging your nostrils. You summoned your magic, and despite being a tad weaker, you knew it could heal you if given proper time. 

“Why don’t you take mine?” Rio’s suggestion made your stomach lurch. 

“That’s cute,” Agatha mused. “But you know that would kill me.”

“Then what about hers?” 

It didn’t seem like a terrible idea to you. But Agatha’s answer was categorical, “No.” 

You looked up at her, noticing the hesitation in her features. Maybe fear too. Truth was, she didn’t trust herself to do such a thing, not to you. You knew she found immense pleasure in sucking away powers from witches, she knew it was wrong, and for years the only reason why she did that was to keep Nicky alive. That’s the reason why you helped her do it. As a mother you could back up from your responsibilities and as a witch, you learned the hard way that in order to survive you had to do all sorts of things. 

There was something about your magic that scared Agatha. You were the only necromancer witch she ever crossed paths with, so she wasn’t sure she would be able to pull away from you, once she got a taste of your forbidden  magic.

Rio pursed her lips in a grimace, “you’re such a coward.”

“She isn’t,” you argued back. 

When Rio finally put the dagger down, both you and Agatha frowned in confusion. “Show me, then. Blast her. Help her restore her purple.” 

“We aren’t doing this, Rio,” Agatha insisted rather adamantly. 

“I’d think about it before making a decision, my love,” Rio leaned closer, her voice soft and eerily calm. “You see, I'm not the only one that wishes you dead. I’d expect guests at sundown.”

You frowned at her words, “who do you mean?”  

Rio’s eyes flashed with excitement. “The worst of them. The Salem Seven.” 

For a moment both you and Agatha fell quiet. You felt Agatha turn still behind you, and your heart ached for her. You turned to face her, as the grip around your middle loosened. 

“Hey, I’m here, Agatha,” your voice came out both firm and tender. “It’s going to be alright”

Rio laughed softly at that. She shoved your shoulder in a playful way, “I have a feeling we will meet again, very soon.”

She paused where once it stood the front door, “Hasta luego,” she waved her fingers before stepping out of the house. 

You considered Rio’s words, and as much as you wished to find another solution, there wasn’t really another way to restore Agatha’s powers, especially not in such a short time. 

“Maybe–”

“Don’t,” she cut you off, sharply. 

You raised your hands defensively, “Fine, sorry. But I think we should at least think about it.”

When she didn’t respond, you decided to give her a moment. Pushing yourself up, your eyes darted to the mess around you. There were pieces of furniture pretty much everywhere, shreds of glass, plates and cutlery and even sections of ripped wallpaper, along with chunks of plasters, “this is not how I imagined to spend this Friday…” you hoped your little joke would put a smile on Agatha’s face, but she remained motionless. 

Agatha started to regret having woken up by Wanda’s spell. Now not only was she awake, but she had no power, the Salem Seven and Rio wanted her dead, her house was falling to pieces, and on top of that, you were in potential danger because of her. The only reason why she survived the loss of Nicky was because of you. But if she lost you too…

She clenched her eyes and took a deep breath, refusing to dwell in such thoughts. 

“Uhm, Agatha?” You were wrong to think nothing else could surprise you that day. 

She made a hum sound, finally getting on her feet, face turned towards you. 

“Why is there a gagged boy in our wardrobe?”

[sashaisready]

Since You've Been Gone: Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

After a regrettable first meeting in the cemetery, you discover that you have something in common with a certain member of the Avengers. Unfortunately, you can't choose your neighbours, even in death.

(Setting is approx. post TFATWS)

Hi, I'm back! I have no idea where this came from, or where it's going! So apologies as updates may not be consistent while I figure it out. Warnings for death of parents, grief, mentions of cemetery/graves - please tread carefully if these are triggers for you.

🍂

It was a chilly Autumn day, but not unbearable. Your coat could more than handle the frigid breeze. You squinted at the headstone as you crouched on your knees, angling your head to make sure you hadn’t left any streaks or marks from the polish. Satisfied with your performance, you trimmed a few of the roses that were leaning against it before standing and taking a step back to admire your handiwork.

Immaculate as always, so neat you could almost be fooled into thinking you weren’t even outside. You could hear your parents’ voices in your head now, joking about being able to keep their graves far cleaner that you ever managed your bedroom to be, their frequent nags falling on deaf adolescent ears.

You smiled sadly as you looked at the intricately engraved text below their names on the shared stone:

Beloved parents taken too soon,

Waiting in heaven to be reunited with their only daughter

You’d never really like that phrasing; it was a little too whimsical for your tastes – especially all these years later. But a recently orphaned teenager wasn’t exactly an expert in choosing the best headstone wording. You’d been more than happy to let your aunt and the funeral home lead the way, too paralysed by grief to make even the smallest decisions in the hellscape that was death admin.

Still, you’d never want to upset your aunt by getting it changed, there’s a lot of strange emotion tied up in grief even when time has passed, and that mourning teen has become an adult. And it wasn’t like new headstones were cheap anyway…

As you packed up your cleaning kit your attention was drawn to the two graves next to your parents’ - George and Winnifred Barnes. They had both passed several decades earlier, long before your parents were buried next to them. They had died only a few months apart according to the text…maybe they’d couldn’t survive without each other.

It was easy to infer that they no longer had anyone left earthside. The graves had been long untouched, unkempt, and overgrown, the inscriptions getting harder to read – and you’d never seen any evidence of a visitor in all your time coming here. Except of course when the cemetery staff did one of their occasional mass clean-ups of the neglected graves.

About a year ago, you’d started tending to them alongside your parents. You weren’t sure why, it just seemed like the right thing to do. They were neighbours after all. And you’d want someone to do the same for your mum and dad if you weren’t around.

You’d cleaned their stones, wiped away the grime and given them a decent polish. You’d trimmed back the weeds and laid fresh flowers. The first time took a while, but after you’d got them to a reasonable standard it was all pretty easy to maintain.

You’d often wondered who they were. What they were like. The dates suggested they’d died of old age, a luxury your parents didn’t have. Were they kind? Funny? What hobbies did they have? They were around during the war, that must’ve been tough. You knew from the inscriptions that they had children who would’ve been over hundred by now. Maybe no grandchildren which is why nobody came by to see them anymore. It made you feel sad, how we could all be just a few generations away from being forgotten entirely. At least you could try to remember them.

You gave their graves a quick once over, took away the dead flowers and added some fresh roses in their place.

“Well, I’m done,” you said aloud, “see you soon, mum and dad. And you too, George and Winnifred. Sleep well”.

You sighed, walking back to your car and back to your life. You knew all too well that the dead may be still, but the world continues around them.

🍂

A week later you were back at the cemetery with your cleaning kit slung over your back, your arms full of fresh flowers.

“Afternoon, mum and dad,” you said as you placed your kit and flowers down and pulled out the foam pad that you used to kneel on, “and you, George and Winnifred”.

“Work has been kicking my ass this week,” you sighed as you got to work on your parents’ stone. “There’s only so much I can take of Brock’s moaning about the numbers…it’s getting harder not to smash my keyboard over his head – yeah I know, violence isn’t the answer, blah-blah-blah…”

You worked diligently, chatting away as you went through your maintenance tasks. It was nice, talking to them like this. You could say anything, really. No judgements, no admonishment, just silent acceptance of everything you told them. It was a bit like therapy for you. You often imagined your parents were sitting behind you as you spoke, just out of sight.

You liked to use old newspaper to buff up the marble. As you gathered your things together, you glanced at some of the headlines from the copy you’d brought with you. Lots of dreary grimness unfortunately. There was also a longread feature on the Avengers and where they were now, their photographs lined up across the top of the page. It was sad that a few of them were dead now, or at least no longer here. You felt a pang of sadness for their loved ones – you knew what that was like.

You didn’t know all the details of The Avengers and their associates, but like everyone else you knew the basics. It was a strange time, just a decade or so ago nobody had ever thought superheroes really existed…but then all of these ‘enhanced’ people started crawling out of the woodwork, revealing weapons and technology that previously had only existed in sci-fi movies. It was hard to believe, really.

You scanned the newspaper page, looking at the pictures for a few moments. You took your time studying their faces before sighing and placing it back down.

“All done…now let’s help out George and Winnie over here, looks like you guys need some new flowers…and all that heavy rain we’ve been having has really done a number on your stones…let me just-”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the gruff voice behind you demanded, causing you such a shock that you nearly joined your parents.

You spun your body away from the graves, horrified to see a man looming over you as you stared at him open-mouthed in surprise. You hadn’t heard him approach, not quite understanding how you hadn’t noticed him coming at all…

“I said what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he repeated to you, his blue eyes alight with anger.

He was big. Bigger than you. Even under his coat you could see his broad shoulders. A mop of dark hair framed his face, most likely quite an attractive face when it wasn’t pulled into a furious sneer like it was now. He wore black gloves as he pointed at you accusingly. The fact that you were kneeling on the ground while he stood towering at his full height had not gone unnoticed by you.

There was something strangely familiar about him, but you couldn’t place it. Did he shop at the same market as you? You couldn’t quite…

“I’m…I’m just-” you spluttered as you fumbled for the words, still caught in your surprise and the fact that this normally serene time had been interrupted by a stranger yelling at you…

“Get away from there!” he snarled.

You quickly realised he was talking about the Barnes’ graves. You bounced backwards, landing painfully on your ass in your desperation to do what he said. He had a chilling air of authority that you didn’t want to screw with. You weren’t trying to piss off an angry man while you were out here all alone…

“I was just tidying them up,” you managed weakly as you sat up and clutched at the flowers.

“Nobody asked you to,” he scoffed in response as he leaned over and ran a gloved finger over Winnifred’s inscription, “you shouldn’t be clambering all over graves of people you don’t know”.

You frowned as the initial shock of the encounter wore off, now annoyed now at his abrupt rudeness towards you when you only had good intentions.

“Oh, and you know them, do you?” you snapped back sharply as your felt your emotions surge and your eyes water, your cheeks hot with mortification, “well, nobody has been to visit those graves in years so-”

“Yeah, actually I do know them - I’m their son,” he spat furiously.

Your head bounced back in surprise and confusion. You curled your lip and frowned at his strange claim, he appeared to be his mid-to-late 30s at most – many years away from the very elderly man he’d need to be for that to be true.

What was his goal here, exactly?

Was this guy just looking to start an argument and decided you’d be his target? Spouting off nonsense about random graves just to mess with you?

And where did you know him from?

Despite your survival instincts, you couldn’t help but fight back. You didn’t appreciate being messed with at the best of times, let alone when you were only here to visit your deceased loved ones. Who came to a graveyard to fuck with people? And yell at them?!

“Huh? Son?” you scoffed with derision and jabbed a finger towards the inscriptions about their children, “well, that can’t be true as that would mean their kids would have to be over a hundred…and how many one-hundred-year-olds look like you…?”

“I’m 107 years old, actually,” he said venomously. He sounded utterly sincere despite the ludicrousness of his claim. His face was sullen, his eyes piercing.

You ignored the shudder that threatened to roll through you in response. It was a strangely familiar expression on his face.

Where had you seen that look?

“Oh, yeah! You’re 107…Sure!” you laughed sarcastically. “You just have the greatest plastic surgeon of all time, in fact there’s a bunch of centenarians wandering around looking thirt-”

You trailed off as a wave of recognition suddenly hit you and the penny dropped. Oh. Oh.

He wasn’t from the market…

It was him.

Your eyes panned down to the crumpled newspaper lying next to you. The same man’s face scrutinised you from the page, an exact mirror image of the brooding 3D version in front of you. A little older now, but still unmistakably the same man.

Oh!

Now you remembered that same picture on the news. Read about the terrible things he’d done before when he was under hypnosis. For the Nazis? The Soviets? Both? Flashes of recollection hit you at once, disjointed and scattered.

It wasn’t really him doing all of it, it was a mind control thing, they’d said. He was like the Captain…the first one from the 40s. Kept young…somehow. He had a robot arm. Then there was the big government pardon after he’d helped to save the world. The deep dive the New York Times had done on his assassin past. What had they said he was called? Iceman? Winter? Winter hitman?

The Winter Soldier.

Barton? Baines? No, Barnes.

Barnes.

As in…son of Winnifred and George?

Ah.

He must’ve seen your train of thought written all over your face as he nodded solemnly at you.

“Yeah. It’s me. And I only found their resting place a few weeks ago,” he said with disdain.

You got to your feet, taking a few cautious steps backwards. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You didn’t need to be a jerk - I’ve just been coming here for years, and I’d never seen…”

You trailed off, he didn’t care. His focus was on the graves, one gloved hand gripping the top of his father’s stone as he peered down at the grass below.

You turned to leave, giving him his privacy, “I’m sorry for your loss,” you mumbled quietly as you picked up your kit.

You started to head back to your car, then turned to face him again after a couple of steps. You warily moved back towards him and leaned over, placing a single flower between the feet of his parents’ graves. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pick it up and throw it back in your face, either.

As you walked away, you thought you felt the weight of his gaze on your back.

🍂

Another week passed and you were back at the cemetery once more, working the usual routine and doing your best to forget what had happened the last time you were here. Upsetting a war veteran slash Avengers superhero by accusing him of not being his parents’ child was impressively incompetent, even by your standards. But in your defence, he did just start yelling at you out of nowhere. And you were only trying to help. And he was a literal defiance of nature, time, and aging…

But then again, people weren’t always their best selves in a cemetery. It wasn’t exactly Happy Hour over here. And you’d probably freak out too if you caught a stranger tinkering around with the resting place of your parents. The parents who died of old age while you were cryogenically frozen and a prisoner in your own body…

You’d done a little more reading up on him, James Buchanan Barnes. ‘Bucky’. The man behind the scary winter soldier mask. The older images of him in his combat gear were chilling, as were the alleged stats of his kills, but mainly you just felt immense empathy for a man out of time. A man who had lost his youth, a limb, his autonomy, and everybody he once knew from his old life.

You tried to put it out of your mind, catching your parents up on what they’d missed and pretty-ing things up a little around their plot. You didn’t touch the Barnes’ this time, just gave them a little wave and concentrated on your own flesh and blood.

You were a million miles away, lost in the quiet fog that often seemed to overtake you when you were working in the cemetery. It was peaceful, really. This was the one place you could switch your brain off and quiet the chatter of your head, just concentrate on the tasks you knew so well by now that your hands did them on muscle memory alone.

You were just adjusting the newest flowers when a voice interrupted you.

“Hey,” it said.

It startled you as you were still in your own world and hadn’t heard anyone else approach. You whirled around slightly panicked as a pair of eyes the colour of sapphires met yours.

It was him again.

“Oh, hello,” you replied quietly.

He stared over at you, wrapped up in his coat as he was last time. His stare was still intense despite appearing much calmer than when you first met him. He wore black pants and boots, his hands tucked away into his pockets, a dark backpack slung over his shoulder. His face was more relaxed than it was during your first encounter. His blue eyes were just as arresting, but the absence of anger made them sparkle rather than burn. He had a soft dusting of stubble across his taut jawline, his dark hair was pulled back behind his head as he absent-mindedly ran a hand over it. He was…

…hot?

Fuck.

He nodded at you in acknowledgement and moved to George and Winnifred’s plot, kneeling in front of their stones. He pulled a candle out from his backpack and lit it with a lighter, placing it between where his parents lay.

You turned away sharply, not wanting to look like you were intruding during what was clearly a private moment of mourning. You focused on your own parents’ graves, clipping back the flowers as quietly as possible.

The two of you continued doing your own thing, the awkwardness thick in the air. You remembered how furious he’d been with you last time. You considered saying something, trying to explain that you were only trying to maintain the graves, but you didn’t want to provide any more ammunition for potential anger. Instead, you continued your routine in silence, keeping your eyes down.

After you finished you packed up your stuff and cleared your throat, ‘uh, bye,” you said quietly to him as you hurried down the path and back towards your car. He didn’t respond, but looked up at you as you passed, studying you intently.

[sugdenlovesdingle]

TK and Carlos meet Tommy and Buck for the first time since the crossover episode

I'm not that good with crossovers but I hope you like it

---

"So you met them fighting wildfires here in Texas? When we live in the wildfire state?" Tommy asked as they drove through down town Austin.

Buck shrugged.

"It was pretty bad. They needed all the help they could get." he quickly glanced at Tommy "Hen and TK's captain actually went missing. Their helicopter crashed. We stole a fire truck to rescue them."

"You seem to do a lot of that, don't you? I'm kind of hurt you've never stolen one for me." Tommy teased.

"Next time I steal a truck, I promise it'll be for you." Evan vowed and held up two fingers. "Scout's honour."

Tommy laughed.

"That doesn't count if you were never actually a boyscout."

"How do you know I was never a scout? I had a lot of hobbies as a kid."

"Hmm. I know. But Maddie would have shown me the pictures by now if you had."

Evan tilted his head in his direction to signal he had a point.

"I'm sure you would have been adorable in the uniform." Tommy told him and brushed a kiss over the knuckles of Evan's hand he was holding.

"Damn right I would have!" he joked as he pulled into a free parking space near an apartment building. "Ok this should be it." He double checked the address as they walked up to the front door. He was excited to meet up with TK again but also slightly nervous. "We've kept in touch via insta and text and stuff." he told Tommy. "But I've never actually met his husband. I was supposed to go to their wedding... but then I got struck by lightning."

"Which seems like a valid reason to skip a wedding." Tommy said, taking his hand. "But you are the most accident prone person I know. Even if you were a cat your nine lives would be close to running out by now." he joked.

Just as Evan was about to ring the doorbell, someone called out his name behind them.

They turned around and saw a guy of around Evan's age in some kind of uniform walk up to them, with a large Bernese Mountain Dog happily following behind.

"TK! Hey! Good to see you, man." Tommy hung back as Evan let go of his hand to hug his friend. "Are we early?" he gestured at TK's uniform.

"No, don't worry about it, it's fine. I just took Buttercup out for a walk first before we went up."

"Is he yours?" Tommy asked, scratching the dog behind its ears as it sniffed his pockets.

"My dad's. But he's away visiting family for a couple of days so he stays with us." TK explained. "And you must be Buck's hot pilot."

Tommy laughed and shook TK's hand while Evan's face turned an adorable shade of pink.

"Just Tommy is fine." He said and turned to Evan. "Just how many people have you told about me as the hot pilot?"

"I...Well... I just... I mean... Y-you are a hot pilot." Evan stammered.

"Hey, I get it." TK said, patting his shoulder. "I married a cowboy and a cop in one. A very hot one too."

They followed TK into the building and they took the lift up to their floor.

"Carlos is making ropa vieja from his grandmother's recipe. He's planned a whole three course meal."

"You didn't have to go through all of this trouble for us." Evan said but TK waved his comment away before opening a sliding door. "It's fine. He loves to cook. Babe, I ran into Buck and Tommy downstairs."

An attractive man Tommy recognised from the pictures Evan had shown him, came to greet them at the door. He kissed TK and unclipped the dog's leash before turning to Buck and Tommy.

"Hey guys, come on in. I'm Carlos, TK's husband. Nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you. Both of you."

"I might have called TK for advice when I was freaking out before our first date." Evan explained.

"And looking at you two now, it was pretty good advice." TK pointed out and ushered them further into the loft.

The place was nice. Stylish yet homey at the same time. TK quickly changed out of his uniform while Buttercup decided Tommy was his new favourite person in the world and draped himself over his lap, and Evan ended up helping Carlos in the kitchen.

"Just push him away if he bothers you." TK gestured to the dog staring lovingly at Tommy while he pet him. "He can get a little clingy."

"It's fine, I don't mind. Our neighbours had a Saint Bernard when I was a kid, I was always over at their place to play with it. This one brings back memories, don't you buddy?" he directed the last part at Buttercup before glancing around the loft again, eyes landing on a large terrarium. "What's in there?" he asked and TK's eyes lit up.

"That. is Lou. Louis the second. He's our lizard. Well... bearded dragon." TK stood up and opened the terrarium, moving a few things around, and lifting a lizard up out of it. "Carlos bought him for me, even though he's scared of him."

"I'm not scared of Lou. I just didn't want a wild flesh eating lizard loose in our apartment."

"I feel like there's a story there." Tommy prompted.

"Carlos is overreacting." TK insisted but didn't elaborate."Lou is actually really friendly and smart. And he likes Buttercup."

"And Buttercup was scared of him the first time they met." Carlos added.

Tommy listened to TK talk about the bearded dragon and made a mental note to look into where and how to possibly get one in LA. He'd have to talk to Evan about it but he had a feeling he'd be on board.

They spent the rest of the night swapping work stories while enjoying their dinner, and making plans for the rest of Buck and Tommy's time in Austin.

"I'll text you the details for that club I mentioned. You can meet the rest of our friends." TK promised Buck as he and Carlos walked him and Tommy to the door.

"And we'll meet in the park at noon tomorrow for the yoga class. I have an extra mat if you need it." Carlos told Tommy. The two had discovered a mutual love for yoga and agreed to go to Carlos' regular class together.

"And we can sit back and enjoy the view." TK said, bumping his shoulder against Buck's. "I'll bring virgin mojitos."

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

The problem was that Harry had certain expectations of Catherine, and by extension, Meghan, based on what he had likely told her about Kate. Harry expected Catherine to treat Meghan in the same way she treated him, without considering her own thoughts and feelings. He was disappointed when his expectations were not met.

I disagree with this, I think K treated M the way she treated H, civil but not too close, I think M had expectations of Kate based on her public image that M built her anti-K personality off: meek, easily influenced, boring, etc.. as someone said(I'm not sure if it was you), she expected Kate to be her Jessica, a wingwoman designed to make her look better.

and in H's book he speaks about feeling like the 3rd wheel with W&K and dreaming of the day that he stops feeling that way because he had a partner as well and they can be a happy four, except that him having a partner to W&K meant that they no longer have to tolerate him to soothe his feelings, that was to be his partner's burden, having a partner didn't mean a happy 4 to them, it meant he can go off with his spouse so that they can focus more on their relationship and their children.

Sorry, I disagree. We do know that Harry and Kate were much closer than “civil.” Harry, William, Kate, and the rota have all spoken about how close they were pre-Meghan. I mean, Harry used to pop over to 1A all the time for dinner and to hang out (according to William) and Harry lived/spent nights close enough to them that he could hear George playing from his bed (according to Harry himself) and then there’s Michelle Obama’s famous story about George asking Harry why he was so quiet during the Obamas’ visit.

That’s a pretty close relationship. If you’re just civil with someone, you don’t give them walk-in privileges to their home and your child certainly isn’t going to notice a difference in their personality or behavior when there are guests.

But it’s clear something happened to cause a distance put distance between Harry and William and Kate. I think the fracturing had already started before Meghan came along. According to the rota and implied by Harry in Spare, the fractures, or a slight cooling, seem to have started around 2014/2015 when William and Kate were settling into their new phase of life (parenthood) and spending more time in (before eventually moving to) Norfolk while Harry maintained his partying lifestyle, which the rota has hinted worsened after he left the Army.

Also, aristo gossip has hinted that whenever Harry did visit the Cambridges in Norfolk and/or they went to parties hosted by friends, Harry brought his partying ways with him (drinking to excess, wanting to stay out all night, loud boisterous and belligerent behavior, etc.) and the Turnip Toffs didn’t like it so they stopped inviting Harry around as often. The “read between the lines” of the gossip was that Harry doesn’t know when enough is enough and kept going too far, which made everyone uncomfortable.

So I agree with the original anon - because Harry had a warm and close relationship with Kate, he expected her to greet Meghan warmly and immediately bring her into her inner circle.

But what Harry didn’t realize is that his relationships with William and Kate had already fractured because of whatever happened in 2014-2016 and his expectations for how they interacted with Meghan ended up being the fatal blow to those relationships more than Meghan’s expectations of Kate or the women not getting along were.

[gyernon]

SYMPHONIC INSANITY || INANIMATE INSANITY AU

(actual deets below the read more)

hi guys I have no idea how to format this shit, I'm not new to tumblr but I've never actually thrown out my ideas for AUs into the wild. i'm a violinist and i'm using my experience being in some form of orchestra for half my life to write this yippee. alot of this au also draws from my experience being in my current community orchestra :]

inanimate insanity, except they're all in an symphony orchestra!

i literally came up with this yesterday, so things will probably change as time goes on. check back on this post for edits. however, i'm mostly confident with the assignments i've given everyone. deets below the cutoff.

SOME THINGS TO NOTE:

I like ships. I will tag them accordingly but just be aware that Toipad and Knifecase will probably be talked about when I post about this au

Everyone is fully humanized (including Meeple devices and bot)! There are no fantastical elements to this au.

I am confident on the assignment of instruments, minus the brass section lol. I saw a lot of people that played brass instruments respond to my post so if you guys have better suggestions, feel free to give your input on that. However, I am unlikely to change the string instrument assignments. I'm not even religious, but god came down and told me that Lightbulb is a violist.

With that, anything is bound to change because this au is still pretty new.

The events of Symphonic Insanity are not a one-to-one match with the events of II! However, there are parts of the au that do line up with events or character roles/arcs in the show.

I'm not sure yet what I'll do with this au, I'll probably draw art here and there and maybe put some writing on AO3.

ALSO I AM NOT A BAND KID. If I get anything wrong, please let me know!!

Also if you have questions, feel free to ask me! I love yapping about this au. Plus, it'd help me continue to flesh things out.

All posts about this au will be under the hashtag #Symphonic Insanity

MePhone is a conductor familiar with the music scene. He becomes the director of a small orchestra, finding local musicians willing to join. This initial group consists of the season 1 contestants.

They have a concert which draws more attention to the orchestra, and the new group of people that join are the season 2 contestants. Along with that, MePad and Toilet join in as conductors.

After another performance, more people are drawn to the orchestra and this last group of newcomers are the season 3 contestants.

In the beginning, MePhone's orchestra is tiny and he's kinda just handling everything by himself. After their first concert and the addition of Toilet and MePad (along with some others), Mephone now has a team to help him run everything. The orchestra gains attention and popularity overtime, which gets the attention of Steve Cobs.

Steve Cobs is Mephone's estranged father, for good reason (I also imagine Mephone is adopted in this au?). Cobs originally was a solo violinist when he was younger. In the present, he is an influential figure in the music world. Maybe a professor at some school or the head of a music association? A distinguished composer? Who knows, but he's definitely highly regarded.

The growing popularity of Mephone's orchestra would put him on Cobs' radar, chaos ensues... but that's for later.

The story I want to go for with Symphonic Insanity is that of growth. I think quite a few characters would have arcs as musicians that would match/relate to their arcs in the show. I realize writing this that the nice thing about this au is that nobody is competing against each other. At least, they shouldn't be. Instead, they are all working towards the same goal--to put on a good show and improve as musicians.

Everything I laid out above is the general idea of the au. Everything will probably get fleshed out with art or writing as time goes on. With that being said, here are the assigned instruments/roles for everybody:

NON-MUSICIANS

Conductors:

Mephone

Mepad

Toilet

Staff:

Cabby (Logistics)

The Floor (Finances)

Bow (Social Media Management)

Dough (Sound Tech, handles getting recordings and helps out with misc tasks. Also Dough does play the piano, but he just doesn't perform with the orchestra.)

MUSICIANS

Strings

Violin:

Silver Spoon

OJ

Test Tube

Pepper

Salt

Viola:

Clover

Paper

Lightbulb

Bot

Cello:

Soap

Paintbrush

Baseball (can also play Bass)

Bass:

Pickle

Woodwinds

Piccolo:

Balloon

Flute:

Suitcase

Marshmellow

Apple

Clarinet:

Taco

Tea Kettle

Oboe:

Goo

Bassoon:

Nickel

Brass

Trumpet:

Trophy

Knife (for some reason, I am tempted to give Knife Bass Clarinet)

Tuba:

Tissues

Bomb

Trombone:

Cheesy

French Horn:

Blueberry

Percussion

I usually see percussionists being able to play multiple instruments so the ones outside of Piano and Harp aren't strict assignments.

Piano:

Fan

Microphone

Harp:

Candle

Marimba:

Cherries

Timpani:

Lifering

Misc/Plays multiple instruments:

Yin Yang

Aaaand that's everything you need to know about Symphonic Insanity! At least for now. Like I said, art and writing will come in the future if I don't lose steam lol. I do have some posts planned already but I think this is a good start. I hope y'all like it :D

[bambii-bimbo]

Enthralled

They woke up in a daze, head pounding, sitting in chair. They had no idea where they were, or what had happened to them. All they could remember was... umm... uhhh... In that moment, they realized they couldn't remember anything. Who they were, where they were from, what their life was like. Becoming aware of their body now, looking down to find a nice, round pair of large breasts covering their slim stomach. They screamed out of fear, only to hear a feminine, woman-like cry escape from their plumped up lips. Almost hyperventilating now, they checked the rest of his body to confirm their fears, and with a long, deep breath, took in the changes. A round butt, long, thick black hair tumbling over a narrow feminine frame, and to top it off, a pink, glowing pussy between their thighs. After calming himself down, they looked around the room made up of nearly all pink, with a few soft chairs sitting in front of a TV, and a door leading into a chamber of sorts at the other side of the room. Just then the door opened, and pure perfection walked in.

"She's awake!" The girl was wearing a ridiculously revealing black outfit, and strutted her way into the room, breasts moving side to side and long pink-highlighted hair swinging back and forth. She was stunning, and the still groggy, confused girl couldn't help but stare at her form. At least, now she knew she was a girl, but couldn't remember if she was always one. Not that it mattered anyway, the girls whole world became the sexy woman as she approached her.

"How do you feel, Kylie?" The woman inspected Kylie's features, giving her a moment to digest her appointed name, before continuing on. "In case you don't remember, which I seriously doubt you do, my name is Alexa. I know you're feeling pretty confused right now, but that's alright. By the time we are done, you will be feeling so, so much better." Before Kylie could say anything, Alexa snapped her fingers, and spoke a command. "Bambi Freeze." Instantly, Kylie felt all of her muscles completely clench, and she stood at attention in front of Alexa. "Good girl!" Clearly she was pleased with Kylie's response, and with another snap, motioned for her to follow. Kylie followed, without any resistance or thought, pursuing Alexa before being sat down in one of the pink chairs, Alexa sitting directly across, extremely close. "What am I doing here?" Kylie asked, her girly voice echoing through the room. Alexa gave a smirk, licking her lips and seemingly waiting for something.

All of a sudden, Kylie heard footsteps behind her, and another woman came around the chair, wearing the same type of revealing outfit, but this time was a brunette. Her pink bra did a poor job of hiding her absolutely massive tits, swinging back and forth as she leaned over towards Alexa. The two exchanged a few words before giving their attention back to Kylie, still questioning her situation in the chair. "Relax, you won't need to think about anything in a second. If you're still confused, let me explain. You have gone through an intense brainwashing cycle, where we have altered your mind and body to be the perfect bimbo doll, just like the two of us. I'm guessing that you can't remember anything before now, which is good. Old life completely gone, first step to accepting your new life as Bambi." Kylie tensed up, asking "who is Bambi?" The other bimbo laughed, a very pretty laugh, and said "Bambi is the girl deep within you. We have programmed her deep into your subconscious, and now it is time for you to accept her as a part of yourself! You don't have to fight it, the conditioning has made sure that you can't anyway. Just let it feel good, and give in to the feelings of pleasure and empty bliss you feel while we complete your bimbofication. Now, lets begin."

Bimbofication? Bambi? Brainwashing? Kylie tried to stand up, to make an effort to resist her captors. She wasn't some dumb bimbo, conditioned to obey her inner "Bambi". This was ridiculous! Before Kylie could stand up and do anything, however, Alexa snapped her fingers, and Kylie froze in the chair. Blankly staring at the girl in front of her, she could feel the hands of the other girl behind her begin to run through her black, moisturized hair. "What did we tell you, Bambi. There is no escape from your conditioning, no chance of resistance. Your subconscious mind gave in a long time ago, and now it is time to let your conscious mind accept this too. It's so easy to just obey, to open up yourself to Bambi, to let her take control. You'll feel so good, feel like such a good girl. So let it happen." Alexa moved in super close to Kylie, still feeling the other bimbo's soft hands glide over her head, massaging her ears. "Look at my breasts, Bambi." Kylie instantly felt her eyes drift downwards, down to Alexa's large tits. She watched them begin to sway, side to side, in a rhythmic, almost hypnotic motion. She had to admit, they were easy to look at, so full and soft, admiring them as they swung. Before long, Kylie was deep in trance, completely enthralled in Alexa's breasts, completely mindless as the other girl whispered into her ears, still gently massaging her. "Good girl. Stare. Submit. Obey. Sink." Kylie relaxed into the chair, eyes fluttering and mouth dropping open. It did feel good, to stare at Alexa's breasts, bobbing up and down now.

"Mmm, what a good girl you are. So easily accepting trance, dropping deep under my large hypnotizing breasts. Feel the pleasure radiate all over your body, sinking even deeper into this state of obedience. Bri, lets make her feel it even... more." Kylie sat, unmoving mindlessly absorbing Alexa's breasts and enjoying every second of it before feeling Bri's own, soft, large breasts pressing up against the sides of her head. The chair leaned back and Alexa felt her head lean into Bri, with her legs wrapping around her tight waist and feeling her warmth on her back. Alexa adjusted herself too, climbing on top of Kylie and rubbing herself over Kylie's crotch. Kylie felt the drool come out of her mouth and pussy, feelings of arousal increasing by the second. Spreading her legs even more as Alexa grinded on her, continuing to sway her large, bare breasts back and forth. When did she take her bra off? It didn't matter, all Kylie knew is that she was loving this. All resistance she had was completely gone, replaced with total mindless obedience and vacant, seemingly endless arousal. Bri's large breasts pressing up against her ears, holding her in place, Alexa leaned down, holding a teat over Kylie's mouth. "Show me you want my milk. Only the dumbest, horniest bimbos get my milk." Kylie strained for her nipple, wet tongue and soft moans highlighting her struggle, showing her desperation. Alexa, satisfied, lowered her teat on to Kylie's face, and...

Kylie was in heaven. Sweet milk instantly burst into her mouth, covering her face as she blankly sucked, happy and empty as the thick heavy cream filled her mind. Making any remaining thoughts completely still, dissolving in the warmth and pleasure of the milk rushed to her brain, making her feel so much more fuzzy and aroused than before. The feminine, drowsy scent coming from her exposed breast only added more to the horniness, thinking of nothing but the sweet milk gushing into her wet, obedient mouth as a powerful pink fog clouded Kylie's head. Hearing nothing but her constant triggers and mantras being repeated in her ears, and Alexa's moans stimulating Kylie even more. Alexa suddenly pulled away, leaving Kylie needy and so, so horny, begging for more. Laughing loudly, mixed with her pleasure filled moans, Alexa backed off, stimulating her sensitive breast with her own hand, and Bri pulled her breasts, also wet with milk, away from Kylie's head. Intense pleasure causing Kylie to writhe, she audibly yelled, accepting her new life. "I am a pretty horny bimbo doll, completely brainwashed and conditioned to obey and be the most slutty girl that Bambi can possibly be. Please keep going, I'm begging you so much. I need it so, so much right now." Kylie moaned again, hands locked at her sides no matter how much she tried to move towards her throbbing pussy. Alexa and Bri giggled, before Alexa said "You will fully accept your conditioning and become one of us only when we allow you to cum. Cum out your mind and drop fully into submission for Bambi. What a good girl you have been, keeping you in heat this long has left you desperate. So, we will allow it, just for good girls like you. Think with your pussy now."

The trigger immediately took effect, with Kylie instantly moving her hand to her breasts, stimulating them and watching them lactate for the first time. She felt Bri climb on top of her, pressing her own hands against her sensitive breasts and massaging them, sending spasms throughout Kylie's body. Then, Alexa's plump, wet lips locked on to Kylie's pussy, instantly delving her tongue deep within her clit. Bri locked her mouth against Kylie's and they shared saliva, rubbing their breasts together on autopilot. Kylie couldn't think about anything other than her triggers, repeating her mantras and feeling so abolustely delicious. She felt an orgasm approaching through her pussy, as Alexa's pace increased rapidly. Her moans became louder, the mantras like the ticking of a clock, her whole body twitching every time she repeated one in her head. And then, she heard a new one. "Bambi Cum and Collapse." In the most intense and pleasurable surge of bliss she had ever felt, Kylie finally came, her stimulated breasts worked by Bri's as they passionately made out, Alexa's tongue feeling the full force of her orgasm. Feeling Bambi take total control, Kylie felt the intense orgasm rush through her like a flood, before finally settling after a long moment. She collapsed back against the chair, Bri lifting off and standing beside Alexa, licking the remaining juices off of her face.

Kylie stood up in front of the two bimbos, admiring her new fellow Bambi's and still shaky from the intense orgasm. It was no longer a question, Bambi controlled Kylie, a good girl for her conditioning. So brainwashed that she was unable to form a thought unrelated to her brainwashing or pleasure. "Thank you so much for showing me the bliss that Bambi brings. Why would I ever resist when I can just give in and be a bouncy, blank bimbo?" Alexa bit her lip. "So glad you came around, Bambi. Now you can let your tits and pussy think for you at all times, obey the pleasure that you love so, so much. Good girl." Kylie mindlessly smiled, feeling soft and fuzzy, ready to begin her new life as a slutty, brainwashed bimbo.

[lukalnst]

I would like to ask which of the Alien stage characters would be their favorite type of Goth Girl and how they interact with the goth girl reader..

LUKA, MIZI, SUA & TILL WITH A GOTH!FEM READER

Contains: Luka, Mizi, Sua, Till (separately) / Goth reader / Fem pronouns for reader / Headcanons + some writing / Kisses / Lipstick kisses / Fluff

Luka

Well, it wasn't something that he himself would try, but he wouldn't tell you to not dress like that.

Pretty much the opposite of what he looks like!

Still, you caught his attention. He hadn't seen anyone else dress the way you do, and do makeup the way you did.

So he just watches intently as you do your own makeup.

"That type of music is the most important part... I see."

He likes it when you tell him about the history of the Goth subculture. It actually intrigues him.

Luka just watched the way your hands moved as you finished applying some of the eyeshadow to do your own makeup. He was observing many things, actually; mostly the way you brushed the makeup onto your eyes and the way your hands moved when you did it.

He had done makeup before, but it didn't turn out as well as when you did it. Perhaps you could teach him some other time — just in a way that fits his appearance more.

Luka carefully approached you and seemed to be scanning every part of you. From your hair to your clothes, he just looked at you, thinking of ways he could compliment you in some way.

Before he could open his mouth to say something, you planted a kiss on his lips, which left a stain on his lips. His eyes widened slightly; what a rare sight.

"What... was that for?" He questioned you.

You just smiled at him. You were so gorgeous, so beautiful both with and without makeup. "I'm not done yet, I think I put too much lipstick on. Perhaps I should..."

Mwah.

His face seemed to warm up slightly as you kissed the corner of his lips, but at the same time, both of you knew that this was just the start.

Mizi

"Haaaah...? That's so cool!"

That was pretty much her reaction the first time she saw you using your signature makeup and clothes.

She was beyond amazed — you looked so completely and utterly adorable!

"Mizi — hey!" You protested as she gently pinched your cheek. She was quick to plant a kiss on it, too. But you couldn't blame her! You simply looked so adorable that she just had to.

She positioned her hands so she could be pinching both of your cheeks. She smiled happily at you, and then laughed to herself.

"You're so adorable! How come I've never seen you like this before?" She leaned in closer to you. You weren't sure to show this side to anyone else because you knew people were judgemental. Still, you knew you could show this side of yourself to Mizi.

"You... you don't have to kiss—" You were immediately cut off as Mizi placed her lips against yours. She had stained a bit of your lipstick on her own lips, but she didn't care.

"You have more outfits like this, right? I wanna see all of them!" She laughed softly to herself.

Well, if Mizi wanted to see them... who were you to deny her?

Till

Well, he was used to seeing people with alternative styles, so he wasn't shocked or anything of the sort.

He thought it was cool, actually!

Didn't know if he would try it himself, though.

He couldn't pull it off as amazingly as you.

"Woah. You're really good at that makeup thing."

Talking about things that involved makeup wasn't exactly Till's forte...

He could barely do anything on himself, as when he tried to even apply eyeliner on sometimes, he'd just mess it up, and it would end up looking oddly.

So, obviously, he admired you and your skills. That was a given as he had no skills when it came to that area.

"That's kinda cool," His words seemed pretty genuine. "I like your clothes. They're nice." He admitted. He knew that if he said too much, you'd probably end up teasing him, so he preferred to keep things to himself.

You smiled at him. "Is that all you're going to say?" Your words were filled with a playful tone.

His face seemed to warm up, and a soft shade of pink covered his face. "No! I mean — you look very pretty, very gorgeous or whatever. I don't really care..." He managed to stutter out.

Ah, it was going to be a long day for him. You'd probably tease him for the rest of the day of what he had just said.

... But at least, he'd be teased by a gorgeous girl.

Sua

She had tried makeup on herself before, but the way you did it was much more neatly done than the way she did it on herself.

Much like Till, she admires you.

"... That's pretty nice, you're pretty too."

Perhaps you two could practice makeup on each other.

You were getting dressed as Sua suggested you lay down so she could do your makeup. She had read a few articles about how to do it, so she probably could do it.

She showed you a set of pictures, then asked which one you liked most. You chose one of them, and then she sat down on your lap as she was careful to apply the makeup onto your skin.

After a few minutes, she was done. You looked at yourself in the mirror — she had done an amazing job! It was her first time, too. She just smiled proudly at herself as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

"Pretty cute, isn't it? But you're beautiful always." She said, softly wrapping her arms around you as you continued to look at yourself. She planted a soft kiss on your shoulder and then she whispered.

"You'll always be beautiful in my eyes."

[between-the-pages-ofa-book]

I read that Josh Hutcherson was there tonight. If so, her playing Haunted was her way of confirming that she wrote it about the Katniss/Peeta storyline from Mockingjay.

[pardonmydelays]

i had so much fun last night omg

[wonder-worker]

Any judgement on (Richard III)’s reign has to be seen as provisional. The critic of the reign only has to consider how the Tudors would now be regarded if Henry VII lost at Stoke, to realize the dangers of too many assumptions about the intractability of Richard’s problems. But it would be equally unrealistic to ignore Richard’s unpopularity altogether. The fact that he generated opposition among men with little material reason for dissent, and that the disaffection then continued to spread among his own associates, says something about what contemporaries regarded as the acceptable parameters of political behaviour. There is no doubt that Richard’s deposition of his nephews was profoundly shocking. To anyone who did not accept the pre-contract story, which was probably the majority of observers, the usurpation was an act of disloyalty. Gloucester, both as uncle and protector, was bound to uphold his nephew’s interests and his failure to do so was dishonourable. Of all medieval depositions, it was the only one which, with whatever justification, could most easily be seen as an act of naked self-aggrandizement.

It was also the first pre-emptive deposition in English history. This raised enormous problems. Deposition was always a last resort, even when it could be justified by the manifest failings of a corrupt or ineffective regime. How could one sanction its use as a first resort, to remove a king who had not only not done [nothing] wrong but had not yet done anything at all?

-Rosemary Horrox, Richard III: A Study of Service

[hoardlikegoldenirises]

a scar i totally forgot about in my notes and by extension that drawing i did (but you couldn't see peter's back there anyway so eh)

it's a handprint from kaine (somehow the only one? idk) TBH there's a chance this scar doesn't even end up happening so i guess it doesn't really matter if i forgot it cause it might not be relevant lol but i wanted to doodle it anyway...

[stairset]

I'm gonna be real even though Bendu calls Ahsoka "former Jedi Knight" in their conversation in that one Filoni tweet I don't get why people are acting like he actually officially knighted her or whatever. Like it's not like he Officially Declares Her A Jedi Knight cause the conversation they're having has nothing to do with that. I always just took it as him being formal with her or whatever.

[royalreef]

(( Honestly, it doesn’t bother Miranda so much that her and Aaravi were not fated, that they wouldn’t find each other in every universe and love each other in the same way every time. In fact, it’s what she prefers and is happiest this way.

Miranda’s all too keenly aware that she was not promised anything that she has right now. She knows that the Merkingdom could have easily decided upon somewhere else to station her as a place of first introductions. She knows that she could have never come up onto land at all, that the Merkingdom could have easily decided to have someone else act as ambassador, or to keep their Crown Princess closer at home. They could have decided not to begin land-Merkingdom relationships at all within her lifetime, or trashed the idea before she was established on land, or even before they started properly at all. It could have just remained as an idea, never to be actually explored.

She could not exist. Miranda’s far too familiar with the fact that she was conceived for a purpose, that there was a clear intent behind her creation. Something, anything, could have happened that meant the King and Queen simply never decided to create her. She could have simply not been the one to make it, devoured in the womb before she was even born. Something could have happened in her early childhood to kill her, or any other time, either from a failure of her health or because she was disposed of.

She could have met someone else. She could have met anyone else. She could have been arranged. She could have decided that she would never be allowed this kind of personal wants and desires. She could have shut down. She could have never trusted the land to begin with.

From the moment that she was born, Miranda was told over and over that her life wasn’t her own. She was living for something else, someone else, that she had a purpose and a duty and she was made to perform it. If she failed to perform it, and to perform it well, she could be removed, destroyed. She was a tool, a means to an end, and for as much honing and care and dedication went into her, an expensive tool is still a tool, and still can be replaced if something goes wrong.

Her fate was already decided, already written. Taking it into her own hands was a mistake, something that she would have to be punished for, something that was to be discouraged. It would ruin everything. It would kill people, it would tarnish her kingdom, it would invite ruin into the responsibility that she was supposed to wield, and it would all be her fault. Every moment of every day she was told that the future was in her hands, the future of her entire kingdom and all of their people and culture and history and life, and any tiny mistake means that it would expand out and ruin and destroy and the only person to blame would be her. It doesn’t matter how flimsy the justification was, whether or not that would actually guide her choices or if it made up for the way her family treated her, it was a justification nonetheless. It was blame. It was power over her.

And she doesn’t want to just have that all over again. She doesn’t want to love someone because she was told to love them, told that it was always going to happen, that she was always going to have to love them. She doesn’t want to be told that her breaking out from the Merkingdom’s grasp was destined, because she knows this is a lie too. Miranda’s a testament to all the people she could have been, all the people she nearly was. Their ghosts are leveraged against her constantly. And she doesn’t want the universe to tell her and confirm to her that the Merkingdom was right, that they were always right, that this is good, actually, that it is something that she should want and aspire to and crave.

What Miranda wants is to be able to finally have the option to say no, to have a choice in the matter, to even just have the ability to consent at all. She cannot agree to something if the ability to reject it was never possible, and she wants to love Aaravi because she wants to love her. She wants to make that decision. She wants to love Aaravi not because of some indeterminate and eternal quality, but because she is Aaravi, because of all of the facets of her that exist and she can hold and know. She wants Aaravi to have earned her love, not merely stumbled into it, and she wants to earn Aaravi’s love in turn, to promise her things that she can give, to say that she will change and actually will. Miranda wants it to be real. She wants it to happen for a reason, she wants to say that, yes, every part of Aaravi is lovable and to be able to show her proof, she wants to be there for every step of the way.

There’s a reason why Miranda’s drawn specifically to prophecies about princesses falling into eternal slumber or that they will be poisoned to a death-like state, because a prince or a knight coming by and breaking the curse was not a part of that destiny. She already knows she’s doomed. She already knows the worst is written in the stars for her. What Miranda wants is a way for that to not be the end, for a stray element outside of it all to defy the stars. She wants to be saved from the castle, and for them to do it despite the thorns and the dragon, and she wants them to want her so much that nothing else can stand in their way, to defy death itself.

Fate has never once served Miranda, she’s always just served it. Fuck the crown, fuck the stars, she wants a boring life with the woman that she loves.

[meejijis]

"SameWada fans are toxic" not all of us are, where's your proof that all samewada fans that are toxic

[georgia-stanway]

England aren't going to beat the Netherlands but I also need England to beat the Netherlands because otherwise my uncle will insufferable.

[pasta-is-magnificent]

We got the Dysphoria! We got the Anxiety!

We got the COMBINATION DYSPHORIA & ANXIETY