#It just means a lot that y’all are still enjoying my music even after the project that inspired it

[the-uninformed-zennial]

Guys how come the first time I look at the Fable tag on here in like 3 months I get hit with two different ppl commenting about my songs within like the first few posts?? I’ll fucking cry at you all. /pos

[thiswaytwoinfinity]

color up my skies – bob floyd x fem!reader

Bob Floyd is always beautiful. But there’s something about the way the sunset makes his skin glow and the way that Montana drawl makes your toes curl that means you need to have him … even if you’re on the side of the road.

a/n: finally my entry for IBFFM is complete! This is the first fic I have actually written in months and it feels fitting that it would be for Bob, who stole my heart and introduced me to the TGM fandom. I love it here, y’all. I hope you enjoy my offering.

warnings: smut (18+ only) oral (m receiving), fingering, grinding, unprotected piv (in my mind she’s on bc), praise and breeding kink if you squint, truck sex so kind of public?

tagging @attapullman as a thank you for founding the hottest holiday ever 😉 and a h/t to @withahappyrefrain whose post about bob babbling when he gets close rewired something in my brain

Bob Floyd was always beautiful.

You could list a million instances when you felt stunned by him — when he was bobbing his head along to the music at the Hard Deck, observing his fellow Daggers; rumpled and bleary-eyed in the morning, waiting for his ancient coffee maker to hurry up; standing on your front porch and staring at you in awe, despite the fact that you’ve been together for over a year; flushed and panting with fogged up glasses as he lifts his head up from between your thighs — and still think of more.

But right now, with the pink and orange rays of the fading sunlight illuminating his beautiful cheekbones, the wind ruffling the longer bits of hair that peek out from his beat-up ball cap and those beautiful dimples peeking out, Bob Floyd is downright breathtaking.

“Penny for your thoughts?” the WSO asks, taking a sip from the bottle of soda in his hand. He grins softly as he looks over at you, reclined back on your elbows in the bed of his beloved truck. “You’ve been quiet for a while over there.”

You bite your lip, face heating up a bit as you confess, “You’re just so gorgeous, Bobby.” The tips of his ears turn pink at the praise and he takes his cap off and runs his fingers through his hair before replacing it.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you, darlin’,” he drawls, his accent stronger than ever thanks to the week you two have spent back in his home town.

You had been a little nervous when Bob asked you to come with him on a trip back to Montana after the birth of his nephew. Meeting each others’ parents during their brief trips to San Diego was one thing, but spending two and a half weeks in his childhood home? There were so many ways that could test your relationship.

But eight days into your trip, you were getting to know a whole different side of your beautiful Bob.

“I mean it. Montana looks good on you,” you tell him, reaching out to caress his face with your hand. “I like this whole ‘country boy’ vibe you have going on.”

Bob chuckles, warm and deep, as he gently turns his cheek into your palm. Your thumb gently rubs over one of his dimples, a sign that he’s relaxed and happy. “If I had known that taking you to watch the sunset in my truck would earn me all of these compliments, I woulda done it a lot sooner,” he murmurs.

“Guess you should’ve. Maybe you could have wooed me properly.”

You’re teasing of course; Bob is a complete romantic, surprising you with flowers and picnics on the beach and candlelit dinners at home. “Was this how you impressed all the girls in high school? You’d take them for a ride in your truck?”

He wraps his fingers around your wrist and kisses your knuckles before gently entwining your hands together and lowering them to his lap.

“I think you’re overestimating how many girls were interested in me back then,” Bob laughs. You roll your eyes — you’ve seen pictures of your boyfriend in high school, all gangly limbs and round glasses, and you can imagine falling for him back then too. “‘Sides, they all grew up here too. These big fields aren’t all that impressive when you see them every day.”

He leans over and presses one, two kisses to your neck, right above your collar bone. A shiver runs through your body that has nothing to do with the early evening breeze.

“That’s why I saved it for my favorite city girl,” Bob adds, his lips still pressed against your skin. You can feel the smirk on his mouth and it makes you feel a little dizzy.

Bob loved to make fun of you for being a ��city girl,” joking about how you were lulled to sleep at night by the sound of sirens instead of crickets and laughing at your refusal to learn how to drive until after college. (Okay, but Bobby, you don’t need a license when you have public transport!) He secretly loved it, though. It gave him a thrill to think about how your vastly different lives converged the day you met at Payback’s engagement party.

Bob’s not sure he believes in fate, but he’s endlessly thankful for whatever forces brought you into his life.

You giggle a little as he continues to kiss and nuzzle his face against your quickly warming skin, hand ghosting up his arm to wrap around Bob’s shoulders and pull him impossibly closer. “Bobby …” you breathe, feeling his teeth gently nip at your collarbone. “Bobby, behave. We’re out in the open.”

Your handsome Navy man just smiles and proceeds to work on sucking a bruise into your neck that will make it very obvious what the two of you got up to when you return to his parents’ house.

“Bob —“ you start again, giving the hair at the nape of his neck a quick tug to try and catch his attention, but all you get in response is a deep groan pressed into your skin. With a smirk of your own, you slide your free hand onto one of Bob’s denim-clad thighs, before giving his hair another, sharper tug. The WSO freezes in place.

“Now, darlin’ …” he drawls, his voice low and rumbly in a way that shoots directly into your core. Bob lifts his head up slowly, his eyes hooded and his beautiful pink mouth shiny and puffy from exertion. “If you want me to start behavin’, you’re gonna need to stop pulling on my hair like that.”

“How come?”

Bob’s big hands come up to cup your jaw, tilting your head so that your eyes are locked on his. Your chest is heaving as you watch your boyfriend’s eyes darken, that beautiful sky blue turning to a seductive sapphire as his pupils dilate.

“Because if you keep goin’, I’m gonna have no choice but to take you right here,” Bob explains. “And I don’t know if I’ll be able to take my time with you out here. Make you fall apart the way I like …”

You let out an involuntary whimper at his words, your eyes fluttering closed as a rush of heat floods through you.

“Or is that something you want, huh?” Bob teases, his lips hovering over yours as he pulls you closer.

“Please, Bobby …” Your voice is breathy, more air than sound as you press your mouth against his. Bob’s thumbs gently caress your cheeks as he kisses you, his tongue sliding against yours as you let out a soft groan. No matter how long it’s been, Bob always kisses you like he’s just gotten back from a months-long deployment and it makes your head swim with delight.

(It also happens to have been a few days since you’ve had the chance to properly make out, which does nothing to calm the desire pulsing in your veins.)

“Missed you,” you sigh in between kisses and you feel more than hear Bob’s chuckle.

“C’mere baby,” he mutters, sliding one hand under one of your thighs and tugging, manhandling you to straddle his lap with ease.

You let out a little squeak before settling down, pressing your crotch down to feel where he’s already growing hard in his worn-out jeans. Bob curses lowly and wraps those delicious arms around your waist to pull you closer, his hips pushing up into yours unconsciously as his mouth trails from yours to your neck, down, down until he’s peppering kisses across your chest and the top of your cleavage. You can feel the edges of his signature BCGs dig into your soft flesh as Bob works his mouth along the neckline of your sundress.

“Did I ever tell you how gorgeous you look in this dress?” Bob asks after running his teeth lightly along your décolletage. “Drives me crazy when you wear it, just wanna pull it up and bend you over, doesn’t matter where we are.”

“Bobby!” you gasp, your nails scratching lightly up and down his biceps. Though he was a perfect gentleman on your first few dates — he even waited for you to kiss him first, blushing deeply when you tugged his face towards yours at the end of your third date — it didn’t take long for Bob to learn how much you liked it when he voiced all of the dirty thoughts running through his head.

It still takes you by surprise sometimes, the way your mild-mannered boyfriend can get you wet with just a few filthy comments.

And fuck are you already wet, rolling your hips against Bob’s as his talented fingers slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders so he can have better access to your chest. “Need you, need you so bad,” you keen, arching your back to push your breasts closer to your boyfriend’s mouth. “Bobby, please.”

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, pulling back from your chest with a luck of reluctance obvious on his beautiful face. “Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he adds, stilling your hips in his lap. You only realize you let out a whine because of the way he’s rubbing his big hands up and down your sides, trying to soothe you. “Just wanna get you somewhere a little more private. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

You nod almost frantically, your bottom lip between your teeth to try and hold back your moans. Letting out a deep breath, you slide off Bob’s lap and hop down out of the truck bed, your thighs squeezing together when you watch the way his biceps flex as he lifts the tailgate back into place after following.

He holds his hand out to you and you grab it, practically running around to the front of the truck and yanking the door open. Bob holds back a moment, waiting for you to climb in, but instead, you turn him by his hips and push him back into the cab so that he’s sprawled across the bench seat.

“‘M I not moving fast enough for you?” he asks with a laugh, planting one leg on the floor of the car and swinging the other up onto the creaky leather as he slides towards the driver’s side.

In response, you simply grin, before climbing in after him and pulling the door closed behind you.

But instead of laying yourself on top of Bob — which he’s clearly expecting you to do, the way his arms are hanging open to make room for you — you crouch down in the footwell and reach for his belt.

“Wait, baby, you don’t have to —“ he starts, before cutting himself off with a jolt when you cup his blue through the front of his pants.

“I want to,” you insist, fingers quickly working to open his belt and his jeans. “Want you. Want you so bad, Bobby. Next time we’re not staying at your parents’ house. I can’t go this long without touching you, it’s all I can think about.”

Bob tosses his head back with a moan, his hips lifting up as he helps you tug his pants and boxers down enough to free his hard cock. It slaps up against the bottom of his stomach, flushed and already wet at the tip, twitching slightly when you reach out to wrap your hand around the base. You wait a beat for him to lock eyes with you before you lean in and wrap your mouth around the tip, swirling your tongue around it to gather up the bit of precome pooling there.

“Oh, darlin’,” Bob practically growls, the deep timbre of his voice making you moan as you start to bob your head up and down. “Such a perfect fuckin’ mouth. You’re so good to me, baby. So g-good.”

You pull off and give him a long lick from base to tip before attempting to swallow down as much as you can at once. It took a while for you to be able to deep throat Bob like this — he’s so much bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with before, thick and long and just slightly curved in a way that makes you feel so deliciously full — but Bob was patient and understanding and now you like to show off for him whenever you can.

You pull off to catch your breath, a thin line of spit connecting your mouth to him, before leaning back in working your mouth down to his base, his public hair tickling your nose. You swallow around him and the feeling of your throat closing around his cock makes Bob jump and swear, a fist coming up to hit the roof. The quick buck of his hips makes you cough and sputter and he lifts your head off of him for a second to check in.

“Sorry, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting that, felt so damn good I lost my mind for a second,” he rambles, chuckling softly, his thumb rubbing at the corner of your smiling mouth. “You okay there?”

Instead of replying, you just giggle and nod, nipping at the tip of Bob’s thumb before you get back to what you were doing, sucking and licking at his cock while stroking whatever wasn’t in your mouth. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Bob’s stomach flex as he pants and moans above you, words of praise falling from his lips in a dazed ramble.

“So beautiful, you’re so beautiful like this, my gorgeous girl.” A loud moan interrupts his declarations, those big hands sweeping up to hold your hair back out of your face in a makeshift ponytail as you swallow him down again. “Yeahhhhh, just like that baby, good girl. God, you’re so good to me, love it when I can feel myself all the way in your throat, shit.”

You pull off to breathe before swallowing him down again, fingers cupping and caressing his balls as you hold him there, tip brushing against the back of your throat, enjoying the way Bob’s thighs shake and his hands tighten in your hair.

You repeat the action a few more times, tears staring to run down your cheeks before he suddenly tugs your head up and away from his cock.

“Don’t wan’ come down your throat, darlin’, need to come inside you,” he rambles, petting the sides of you head absently, his eyes fixed on your chest as the straps of your dress slide further down and reveal the soft satin of your bra underneath. “Please, baby, please let me fuck you, gonna fuck you so full ...”

The edge of desperation in Bob’s voice makes you surge up from the floor, climbing into his lap as you kiss him, all tongue and teeth and desire.

“Yes, Bobby, yeah,” you say against his mouth, tugging at his white tee shirt until he pulls it up and over his head. The sight of his broad, defined chest makes you rub yourself against him, sticky wet panties brushing against the hot ridge of his hard cock.

As you roll your hips again and again, the lace catches against your clit, making you moan loudly as Bob lifts his hips into yours.

“You’re so wet, darlin,’ I can feel it, I can feel how you soaked right through your panties,” he says, eyes closing briefly at the sensation, before they fly open and he finishes tugging the bodice of your dress down to your waist. He gives your breasts a quick squeeze, letting out a soft grunt before teasing and pinching at your nipples through the thin fabric. “Such a sweet girl, my good girl, and you get so fuckin’ wet just from sucking my cock.”

“Bobby, please, fuck me,” you moan, hips working more frantically against his, chasing your high as he whispers naughty encouragement to you.

“I will, baby, I will,” he promises, voice soothing despite his movements bringing your closer and closer to the edge. He sits up properly in the seat, grabbing you by the hips and moving your body against his. “Wanna see you come like this first, watch you fall apart in my lap, love it when you get desperate like this.”

Bob drops one hand to your lap, working it up the skirt of your dress to meet your soaked panties.

With a low curse, he slides his hand into them, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing in steady circles while you throw your head back and moan at the feeling of his hands on you.

“Fuck, Bob, right t-there, I’m so close baby,” you babble, hips continuing to swivel as you grind against his hand, his cock, edging further and further to your peak, nails scraping down Bob’s torso. His murmured little “c’mon, come for me,” helps push you over with a shout, your body shaking and trembling in his arms as he works you through your orgasm.

“Juuuust like that, so gorgeous baby, so good for me,” Bob says, his thumb slowing down against your clit as you come down from your high. When your eyes flutter open and you take him in, cheeks flushed and glasses slightly fogged from all of the exertion. He barely gives you a moment to catch your breath before he pulls your panties to the side and begins sliding his cock into you.

You give a shout that turns into a high-pitched whine as you feel the head of him press inside you. “Bobby, Bobby, Bobby,” you babble, walls still fluttering a little as you go to slide all the way down his cock, needing him inside you as quickly as possible.

“Uh-uh, darlin’, slow,” he chastises, grabbing your hips to still you about halfway down his cock. “Don’t wanna hurt you, just take your time, you’re doing so well for me.”

It feels like time slows down as the two of you work to get every inch of him inside, tiny little movements of your hips helping you to take more and more until your hips meet.

You take a moment to reach behind you and unhook your bra, tossing it to the side before snatching Bob’s hat and doing the same. He doesn’t even seem to register your decision to rid him of his hat, already fixated on your bare chest, moving to suck one of your peaked nipples into his mouth with a moan.

“Love these tits, baby,” he mutters against you and you card your fingers through his hair in response. It’s a little sweaty from hiding under his hat in the heat all day, but you can’t get enough of the way Bob groans and whines as you tug at the longer strands and scratch your nails against his scalp. “Gotta move, darlin’, gotta fuck you now.”

“Yes, yes,” you say, lifting your hips until just his the tip of his cock is still inside you and sliding back down.

“Shit, baby, jus’ like that,” he encourages, words already beginning to slur together as he gets drunk on pleasure. You repeat the motion and he smirks, before tugging one nipple between his teeth to make you keen. “You wanna show me you know how to ride? Huh? C’mon city girl, ride me.”

Bob’s voice gets a little breathy towards the end of his taunt and your moans get louder as you feel him press against that spongey spot within you on each downstroke.

For a while, the only thing you can hear is the sound of skin slapping together, punctuated by groans and growls and the occasional whine when Bob pinches or tugs at your nipples with his teeth, the tiny spark of pain making the pleasure more delicious. He’s so tuned into you that he can sense that you’re getting tired almost before you do, wrapping his arms around you and adjusting so that both of his feet are planted against the floor of his truck and he begins thrusting up into you, giving your burning thighs a break.

His hips move quickly, punching little “unhs” out of you with each thrust, tip bullying your g-spot relentlessly. Your walls begin to tighten and flutter against him and Bob frees a hand to rub two fingers against your clit in a slow, steady motion that contrasts beautifully with the speed of his thrusts.

“Oh my g— fuck, Bob, feels so good. You feel so g-good, love you so much.” You’re not even aware of what you’re saying, words spilling out of your mouth mindlessly as you let Bob bring you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Need to come, Bobby, I’m so close, wanna come for you, please, please,” you beg, peppering kisses all over his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, anywhere your lips can reach.

Bob’s fingers speed up, his mouth dropping open to let out a low groan, his face flushed and eyes glassy.

“Yes, good girl, just like that,” he encourages, the bottom of his glasses starting to fog up as a result of his exertion. You moan loudly at the sight, tossing your head back and losing yourself in the feeling of Bob’s talented fingers, his cock, the tension inside you building, building. “Come for me, beautiful, please. Let go for me, so perfect, so good to me, can’t believe you’re mine – shit.”

Your boyfriend’s praise tips you over the edge and you feel that band inside you snap, your vision whiting out at the edges as your walls clamp down on Bob’s cock. You’re shaking and moaning in his arms, gushing around him as he murmurs and works you through it. “Love you, love you, yes, yes, love you baby,” pressed into your clammy skin as Bob can’t bring himself to lift his mouth up from your chest, shoulders, neck long enough to speak clearly.

You come down from your high with one last shudder, walls fluttering around him and making him moan against you. You lean back to take a look at his face - pink and sweaty, a smile on his puffy lips and looking more beautiful than you think you’ve ever seen him before - before cupping it between your hands and kissing him.

You’re not sure how long the two of you just sit there and kiss, could be seconds, could be minutes, but you’re too lost in each other to care.

Eventually, though, your hips start rolling again in his lap, causing Bob to let out little whimpers and moans against your mouth. He lets his teeth tug at your bottom lip before pulling back and pressing his forehead against yours. “God, you feel so good, honey,” he says, eyes locked on yours as you begin to ride him properly once again.

“Wanna make you feel good, Bobby,” you coo, one hand threading through his damp hair and the other caressing his jaw.

“You a-always do, so good to me, so good baby,” he rambles, breath hitching every time you squeeze around him. “Don’t know how I g-got so l-lucky, can’t believe you’re mine, dar-darlin’.”

Bob’s hips begin thrusting up jerkily to meet yours, his eyes starting to get glassy behind those big frames. Knowing he’s getting close, you gently tug on his hair, short little bursts of pain that drive him crazy and get his hips moving faster.

“Jusss like that, god, you’re taking me so well, doing so well,” he says before grabbing onto your hips and holding you in place and thrusting up into you almost frantically. “Wanna be with you all the t-time, wanna fuck you every day, every night, keep you - yeah, do that again baby, pull my hair like that - keep you full of me.”

You moan at the idea, loving the thought of Bob just taking you whenever he pleases.

“Yeah? T-that what you want? I’ll do it for you, do any-anything for you, gonna fuck a baby into you one d-day and make our own little fa - I’m so close - family,” he cuts himself off with a few more high-pitched moans, eyes slipping shut as if he’s picturing your future together.

The idea of being with Bob, having kids with him, settling down and spending your lives together, hits you like a freight train. You don’t think anything has ever sounded better to you.

“Want that, Bobby, want to be with you forever, wanna have your babies, please, Bobby,” you babble, hands running all over his hands and shoulders to pull him closer, hold him tighter.

“Fuck, fuck, yes, anything you want darlin’, oh my -“ he comes with a shout, eyes squeezing tightly shut and fingers holding onto you so hard that you will probably have bruises on your hips later. (You hope you do, you always wear all of the marks Bob leaves on you with pride.) You feel him twitch inside you, liquid heat making you feel impossibly full. He gives one, two little half thrusts as he finishes, before loosening his grip on your skin.

Fully panting, Bob takes a moment try and catch his breath before opening his eyes slowly. The look of pure adoration on his face almost knocks the wind out of you.

“Well,” he starts with a chuckle, pressing a few chaste kisses to your shoulder. “Nothing like that ever happened to me in high school.”

You bark out a surprised laugh, giggles spilling out as you watch Bob grin and then duck his head. The sun has almost fully set by now, pinks and oranges fading into purples and blues as the two of you laugh in Bob’s truck, faces flushed and glowing in the dusk.

In a minute, Bob will clean you up and help you get dressed, gently kissing you with each item of clothing you wrangle back on.

He’ll give you a look of confusion and then surprise when he realizes that his hat is somewhere underneath the seat and he’ll run his fingers through your hair to help you tame it before settling into the driver’s seat. He’ll rest one of those big, warm palms on your thigh as he drives you both back home, looking over to smile at you at every stop sign and red light.

You’ll both giggle, cheeks warm and eyes downcast when Bob’s mom asks about your afternoon over dinner and he’ll mentally start picking out engagement rings when he watches you bounce his nephew on your knee when the family gathers in the living room afterward.

Later that night, after you’ve both shyly admitted that you were serious about the promises you made to one another in the truck, Bob will smile as he watches the moonlight illuminate your sleeping face.

But for now, you two just enjoy this perfect moment, wrapped in one another as the crickets begin chirping outside. And neither you nor Bob think you’ve ever seen the other look more beautiful.

.

(Are we still doing readmore sacrifices?) Either way, please reblog or comment if you enjoyed!

[tarot-bimbo]

݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Pick a pile .݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️

First Halloween with your future spouse?

♡♱ Fangs ♱♡

So my pile of vampires , I think your first Halloween with your future spouse you will be sick. You had been overworking yourself too much before this day has come and when it finally did you are gonna be too sick to even do anything. I do see you and your future spouse still celebrating though even if it means just sitting in the house together watching scary movies. I don’t think they are even a big fan maybe you aren’t either but I am getting he or she might find it too kiddish to celebrate the holiday or maybe you. Spirt is telling you take a chill pill you will succeed your dreams but not by overworking yourself to the point you get sick.You need a healthy balance of work and play remember in the shinning how all work and no play made jack a dull boy? Just kidding but seriously take your health seriously other than that I see you two having a very chill and laid back night. Y’all honestly might prefer to stay in and cuddle while watching movies and eating popcorn y’all might not even watch a scary movie. During the month of October I see you two doing little things like trying all the new Halloween edition food or going to spirt Halloween for a little date. For some of you not all you wear glasses I see you having like a Halloween pair of glasses that look witchy and stuff. You might actually buy a lot of witch stuff or be draw to it or even have a pet cat. It’s giving an old couple tho. He/she might even be older and more mature and that’s why they don’t celebrate a lot. You could even dress up a little like Halloween themed pajamas. I thought of coraline when I said that I saw her little orange pajamas.

(I hope this resonates with you🦇)

☾⋆Moon ⋆☽︎

Hi my moon watchers, I see your first Halloween with your future spouse being fun but maybe a bit too much? Like I see you going to a gathering with friends and family but I think you never met his/her family and you are nervous when I said that I thought about the little anxiety character from inside out2 and how nervous they looked you could possibly even have an anxiety attack but I do see you having fun once you calm yourself down. I see you enjoying yourself actually once you do calm down and get loose you might even have a Jell-O shot or something I see liquor might calm you a bit. Over all though you and your future spouse will have fun and I see the people you are celebrating with also enjoying themselves and your company. You guys will have little competitions and you are a very creative person I see so you have a high chance of winning at least one game. You could even want kids or something and I see you either having a baby or pregnant around this time period. Your energy feels young and dumb honestly not even being rude you could probably zone out a lot or be a little air headed. You could be listening to music this night dancing away. It could actually just also be like a regular little Halloween party with friends or like a college party I hear.

(I hope this resonates with you🌙)

🐺 ⋆° Wolf ⋆° 🐺

Hi my Nightwalkers, your pile is different I am picking up that you two will actually meet on Halloween, you could be moving actually or just taking a vacation somewhere but whatever the case is you are definitely on the move. You could also be feeling tired after this I started feeling really tired and slow like I am rushing now to finish this to sleep ya know? I see you two meeting on the street like bumping into each other just trying to get some chocolate or coffee. It could be raining on this Halloween for you overall I am getting this day will be hectic and a lot for you but I am hearing isn’t it always? Lol I agree but hang in there. Your future spouse could be kinda short or at least you two will look eye to eye ya know what I mean? They could dress very mismatched like they don’t know how to dress honestly. It’s giving when in movies someone is so rich they don’t care about anything even the way they dress and act all stuck up and stuff? He/she could be like that just kinda bratty it could even get on your nerves a lot and make you frustrated but I am getting you two are very different and you help balance them out a lot. I see they just have a lot of attitude on the first day you will experience it and you obviously liked it lol they sound like an angry cute bunny ya know. It could bite you but it’s so cute you aren’t even mad but instead gush over it. Y’all sound so cute especially the way y’all meet it reminds me of when in a drama the female lead bumps into the rich CEO and the male lead is rude to everyone but then the female lead softens him up somehow.

(I hope this resonates with you🐺)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️

[a-bottle-of-tyelenol]

people are, of course, allowed to have their opinions and dislike whatever they please but a lot of criticism I see about epic not being a good adaptation boils down to people not realizing that 1) it’s a retelling BASED on the odyssey and was never actually meant to be an adaption, let alone a faithful one

and 2) even if it was, that’s just the nature of how adaptions and retellings work. there will NEVER be a totally good and faithful adaption or retelling of the odyssey (movie, musical, ect) because there will ALWAYS be constraints of some kind.

so much shit happens in the odyssey and there isn’t a valid musical length that could go over it all. Jay cut out a lot and he STILL has issues with time (that’s why you see so many people criticizing the fact that we don’t spend enough time with the crew before they die or calypso before odysseus leaves). Jay has spoken at length about all the things he TRIED to include but couldn’t because there wasn’t time to do them or because it didn’t narratively feel satisfying (the laestrygonians, for example, originally had a much bigger part, as did the lotus eaters).

which leads to my next point— Jay prioritizes a satisfying and clear cut narrative over one that is authentic to the original story (which again is how MOST retellings go about it especially when their goal is to share the story with a wider audience!). Like I’m sorry I love the odyssey and the Iliad but they aren’t a satisfying story/conclusion to me. and that doesn’t make them bad or worse; it makes sense that they feel this way considering they’re PARTS of an overarching story that we’re missing crucial pieces of and, more importantly, ITS NOT A MODERN STORY AND THEREFORE IS NOT HELD UNDER THE WAY MODERN PEOPLE VIEW SATISFYING ARCS AND NARRATIVES!!! The odyssey is fantastic but it would literally never work as a modern musical and epic wouldn’t be enjoyable at all if Jay tried to be as accurate as possible.

Jay was inspired to tell a story about grief and what it means to be human interacting with that grief. obviously he’d have odysseus reveal his name to the cyclops because he’s angry and grieving instead of being prideful. obviously he’d have it so odysseus had to choose who died to zeus immediately after the cow was slain. obviously he’d make it so odysseus’ primary motivations surround his survivor’s guilt and missing his home over the more complicated and harder to express themes and motivations of odyssey!odysseus.

like I do understand the frustration of never getting an “authentic adaptation” but if you want something authentic then… read the odyssey? you will never get something that is 100% authentic or scene to scene otherwise. you might get close, I’ll definitely give you that, but SOMETHING has to give. a perfect adaptation to you will be missing something crucial to someone else and that will always be how it is.

life is so much more fun when you’re willing to enjoy art that has “based on��� disclaimers literally everywhere as something separate (or you are just willing to enjoy adaptations/retellings separately to the source material in general). epic was NEVER intended on being seen as an accurate portrayal of odysseus and Jay never claimed it was. It really does feel like y’all are setting it up for failure by seeing it as something it was never meant to be and then getting upset that it isn’t accurate when no one ever said it would be.

maybe it’s just a me thing because I’ve never had any issue separating media from their adaptions/retellings, even my favorite ones, but idk it just sucks seeing people say they have a ton of issues with epic and their issues are all just,,, it’s not accurate enough.

Idk if this makes sense or not but I’m just rambling. like what you like, dislike what you dislike. I’m not saying anyone is wrong or anything in how they feel or their preferences. I just think we should all be more open minded about these things idk

[freneticfloetry]

favorite fandom things

I still can’t believe our little weewoo show is ending. This is a bittersweet one, but it totally tracks with the vibes this fandom has nurtured here, full of feels and squee and passing those things on. Thanks to @thisbuildinghasfeelings for starting this one, and @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @nisbanisba @carlossreaders @bonheur-cafe @tellmegoodbye and @heartstringsduet for tagging me.

These are a few of my favorite things about being part of the Tarlos/Lone Star fandom.

All the Words I’ve been a Lone Star viewer since the very beginning — as a 9-1-1 viewer, a spinoff with Liv Tyler and firefighting Chris Traeger proved too great a pull to resist. And for years, It was one of those happy place shows — things like The Good Place, Ted Lasso, Schitt’s Creek — that I thought I’d just enjoy watching every week, without any real need or desire to write it. After all, the cast was diverse (but not for diversity’s sake), the stories were compelling, and my ship had been canon since day one. Then the Season of Carlos got underway, and the bunnies began to breed. It had been awhile since I really wrote anything — my previous show did my ship and fave characters so dirty that I couldn’t get far enough removed from my hurt and anger to actually get words out. But I saw the preview for 4x04, it planted an idea that wouldn’t leave me alone, and before the night was over I’d written the first two thousands words of to build a home (not the first scene, by any means, but the muse does what she wants). There have been so, so many more words since, both published and not yet revealed, and somewhere in there my brain started to spawn bunnies for another fandom I picked up in 2020 and never thought I would write. I love Lone Star for a lot of reasons, but here at the end, the very biggest is the fact that it gave writing back to me.

All the Fic When I say my old show fucked with my head, I mean it — it even stopped me reading fic for a long time. Which is a shame. That fandom, though small, had such a high concentration of ridiculously talented people, some of whom I’m lucky enough to still call close friends today. It spoiled me, and I think it even kept me from venturing into reading in other fandoms for fear of not finding fic at that level. Imagine my surprise when I started reading Tarlos, and found myself immersed in another sea of gifted writers. I am continually blown away by the creativity and care in this fandom. Especially on the heels of my last one, which was a genre show with actual magic and batshit storytelling and seemingly limitless possibilities — the fact that I’m no less entertained by or invested in or consistently in awe of the things Tarlos writers are able to do with these characters, overwhelmingly within the bounds and confines of a real-world procedural, is kind of amazing. (Shoutout to CIG’s beautiful Fire Island, which was the very first thing I ever read.)

All the Enthusiasm I’m going to keep this one short, lest I get overly emotional. But I wasn’t sure, when I first started posting, how my particular point of view would be received — starting out of the gate with something deep in Carlos’ head, exploring parts of his childhood and culture that I desperately wanted to see on the show. The reception that to build a home got still shocks me, to be honest, and I’m grateful for every comment and kudo and kind word. Now everyone go read What Is Sown, What Is Grown, which is a goddamn masterpiece.

All the Tag Games! Not gonna lie, there have been weeks with so many tag games that I wondered how any of y’all actually manage to write. But it’s so much fun to read everyone’s snippets every week, to look at your inspiration images and listen to your Music Monday choices and just take a beat to collectively celebrate this shared obsession with our blorbos. I’ve been writing fic for twenty years (yes, I’m a fandom old, or what the internet has deemed a “geriatric Millennial”), and I’ve seen my share of drama and wank and mean girl vendettas and fandoms soured by BNF culture. And it’s so refreshing to have seen so little of that here. I remember my early days of Tarlos posting, and the way Lola and Rae and a few other people took me under their tag wings and never looked back. And that’s still happening, with so many new authors who emerge — the list of people being tagged and tagging in return just keeps growing. Yes, there’s discourse, and there’s disagreement, and things can get a bit heated. But overall, this is such a great space to inhabit, and you guys have made it that way. If you don’t believe me, look no further than this accidental Tumblr storm about vaguenotion’s You Keep Coming Back with a Bird in Your Teeth, which remains one of my favorite examples of the way this fandom happily opens its arms and offers new folks punch and pie.

A very honorable mention goes to Lone Star being the thing that gave @ambiguouspenny and I a shared fandom again (and so letting them grace the world with more of their art).

I am late as hell, it’s almost tomorrow. So, open tag! (But also @liminalmemories21 @never-blooms @carlos-in-glasses @paperstorm @herefortarlos @lemonlyman-dotcom @walkinginland @reasonandfaithinharmony I’m looking at you.)

[msklassickilla]

Prada You Chapter 3

Summary:

In the summer of 1998, sparks fly between Nyeya and Jey.

Nyeya is an 18-year-old around the way girl. Jey is older, paid, and fine. He is also the leader of the infamous Prada Bois alongside his twin brother Jimmy.  The two have chemistry. However, Nyeya has plans outside of her attraction. With a birthday around the corner and dreams of living a good life, Nyeya sets her sights on enjoying the perks of Jey's money and hood celebrity.

But baby girl has no clue what it takes to really be down. Nyeya is about to learn some hard life lessons at the expense of her 'Prada' priced dreams.

Paring: Jey Uso x Nyeya (Nye) Green (OC)

Author's Note: This story is happening in an alternative universe. It features the current and original Bloodline members along with other WWE stars. So, the characters are themselves, but some things are switched around for the stories sake. This was originally written with all original characters, but I think it could work better this way. Hope you guys enjoy it and I actually finish it...

Warnings: Please be advised that this chapter contains harsh/foul language, age gap

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story. All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Chapter 3: Youngin'

Bad ass kids chased each other with water balloons across the courtyard. I guess it was the best way to cool down in this heat. I sat out on our patio in a cut off shirt and blue jean shorts.

Michael was amongst those bad asses. Last night had been wild but worth the 40 I had to come off of. I took a sip of my grape pop thinking back on what happened after Jey left. I eventually met back up with the girls. They was too hype..

"You met who? Bitch I didn't think he was comin'!" Kiyah shouted over the music.

Jey was a big deal but that was to be expected. Prada Bois was a big deal. They couldn't believe he was just chillin’ in the cut with me. He was the more serious, quieter of the two brothers.

"Jey. The only reason I knew that 'cause I was ear hustlin' something serious," I stated.

The three of them beamed in excitement as I continued telling them what happened.

"You serious like for real? Nye that's a big fucking deal, girl," Natasha chimed in. Kiyah and Nataya co-signed.

"If y’all say so. I mean he fine but what that grown ass man want with me?" I inquired.

Jey had to be damn near 30. I was two months from being 19. What could I possibly do that these old broads couldn't?

"Bitch, do it matter? You act like you ain't all that and then some. You betta lock that old nigga down. Jey is paid," Kiyah reasoned.

The twins nodded in agreement. I appreciated the faith they had in me, but I was still unsure. I didn't think I was about that life.

------

"Nye, let me in," Kiyah yelled, bringing me back the present.

She was standing in the grass looking up at me.

"Okay."

I passed by my mama who was braiding hair in the living room to open the door. My mama did hair on the side to supplement her job at the hotel. She worked a lot, but we never went without.

"What's up, Nye? Hey, Ms. Green," Kiyah greeted as she stepped inside.

My mama and her chatted for a few minutes before she joined me on the patio. We took seats in the hot plastic chairs.

"Damn, this shit burn. It's hot as hell out here," Kiyah grumbled.

I laughed as she rubbed the back of her legs.

"Every year it seem like it get hotter," I commented.

"Hell yeah but let me put you on to what I found out this morning," Kiyah chirped.

She always had information. It wasn't nothing going on in these projects Kiyah ain't know.

"What's the word, girlie?"

"Well, you know how you said you met Jey, right? Tell me why my mama put me on to some you can use."

I was intrigued even though I still wasn't sold on the idea of inviting Jey into my life.

"Go on, heifa. Spill," I urged.

She grinned.

"Jey a big spender," she winked.

My eyes widened. I wasn't expecting that revelation. Most dudes that had money tended to be cheap, doing the bare minimum.

"Word? The head of Prada Bois be tricking off money, huh?" I said, more to myself than Kiyah.

"Mhm. Sure is. My mama say that's why all these hoes after him. Once he fall in love, you can get whateva you want from his ass," she said, snapping her fingers for emphasis.

Wheels started turning in my head. Think of a spinning slot machine reel. Oh, the possibilities.

"Ain't that something. Never would have assumed that about him."

"Well, it’s true. You know what that mean right?," she smiled, knowingly.

"What?" I asked her even though I knew what type of time she was on.

"You just found the golden ticket, bitch!" she hooted.

We both laughed, slapping fives.

⸺

Kiyah and I talked it up until the sun went down. She had been filling my head up with all the things we could do if I was to hook Jey. To be honest, I had been plotting while she was talking. My birthday was coming up and I was tryna have a dope ass time.

If I was with Jey, the whole hood would turn out for my shit. All I could visualize at the moment was the glitz and glamour of being the girl of a Prada Bois leader. By the time she left, I was sold on the move. Jey was gon' be my man at least until I got all that I wanted from him.

------

"Nye, walk to the corner sto' and get ya mama a brown bag. Take Michael with you."

I rolled my eyes, annoyed.

"Why I gotta take him? He gon' slow me up," I groaned.

"I ain't gon' do shit," he spat.

I flipped him the bird. I wished the sun was still up so he could be outside away from me.

"Don't be cussin' in my shit, Michael! And you-," my mama said looking at me. "Take him. I don't want you out going to that sto' by yaself."

I groaned inwardly, stomping off to get my shoes. Michael was already standing outside when I came back. Mama pulled some money out her wallet, handing it to me.

"Get you and Mike somethin'. Don't take too long. You know they be actin' a fool up there," she pleaded.

I only nodded, taking the money.

"Let's go, negro," I mumbled as I passed Michael.

"Little girl you gon' learn to respect me."

I shot him a heated glance. He got on my damn nerves. We made it to the store in no time due to us not arguing along the way. As usual, the store was packed. Cars was everywhere. The small store held a crowd, but they was mostly in line for the food.

Michael and I traveled through the store. I grabbed mama's preferred drink. A WKD which was alcohol and soda mixed together. I thought it was nasty, but she loved it. Michael met up with me with chips, candy, and a pickle in his hands.

"Oh, you about to spend that little 40 dollas, huh?" I teased.

"Nah, girl. I heard what mama said. She said we can get something so I ain't gotta spend my monies," he replied.

I was hoping he ain't hear that part, but I guess that was just my luck. I grabbed my usual which was some hot fries, gummy bears, and a pop.

The line was clear, so we walked right on up to the register.

"23.96," the clerk said.

I pulled the crumpled 20s out my back pocket.

"It’s on me, Ahmad. Keep the ya money, mamas."

My heart fluttered. Jey was standing right behind me. I bit down on my lip turning around to face him. He looked good, dressed in all black. The gold chain that read Prada Boi matched with the gold diamond encrusted ring on his pinky finger.

He was so damn fine.

"What's good, Jey?" Michael greeted, dapping Jey up.

Why wasn't I surprised. The way Michael ran around the projects it was a given that he had knowledge of this man.

"Yo, nothing too much lil uce," Jey replied back.

Ahmad bagged up our goods and pushed it our way. Michael beat me to it, swooping it up. I mugged him.

"So y'all related? You gotta be hell 'cause this dude is," Jey laughed.

I couldn't help but join him. It was true. As Toy kids we was known for our fly mouths and unique ability to find ourselves in trouble. Michael more than me though.

"Nah, I'm nothing like this dude," I lied.

"She a damn lie," muttered Michael.

I could've chin checked his ass right there. Jey laughed. A piece of me wanted to stand around and wait for him but I knew better than to do it in front of Michael. So, we started towards the door.

"Aye, don't go too far. I gotta somethin' to say," Jey called out, looking after me.

I only nodded continuing out the door. A few minutes later, Jey exited. A few dudes dapped him up but that was all he was offering. His attention was on me. I stood with my hand on my hip, tryna play it cool. Deep down, I was ready for him to come over and speak to me.

"What that old nigga want with you?" Michael questioned.

I sighed. I couldn't get my groove on with him around.

"Stay outta grown folks business," I chided, rolling my eyes.

He blew out an unconcerned breath, "Girl, please. Ya ass ain't grown. You still live with ya mama too."

I sucked my teeth in response. His ass was blowing me right now. Jey motioned for me to come to him. That shit was sexy as hell. I gave Michael a look letting him know to stay where he was.

"Just hurry up. My show about to come on," was all he said.

I nudged him out the way before walking over to Jey. He stared me down the entire way. I still had on the cut off t-shirt that exposed most of my stomach and shorts from earlier. He was doing exactly what I wanted. I wanted him to need me like the air he breathed.

"Why you ain't used that number yet?"

His voice had changed. It was deeper, laced with a hint of danger. My body was set ablaze.

"I was tryna figure out if I wanted too," I admitted.

He lifted an eyebrow with an amused look on his face.

"You must not know who I am."

He looked at me with a neutral expression. My palms was getting sweaty, but I held his gaze.

"I do. That's exactly why I don't if I want too," I answered.

He smirked. The dudes surrounding him shared a few chuckles. Jey clasped his hands together, moving closer into my personal space. Close enough that I could smell the Calvin Klein cologne he had on.

"You ain't gotta be scared of me. Use that number and don't let me see you until you do," he whispered in my ear in that same dangerous laced tone.

The hair on the back of my neck was standing. This man hadn't even touched me, but he handled me. Jey put some distance between us.

"Be easy, mamas."

Jey nodded in my direction, dismissing me. I turned on my heels, feeling something. Michael mugged me as I approached him. I pushed him along. Our walk was a quiet one. It wasn't until we reached the entrance of the projects that Michael said something.

"You betta leave that nigga alone, Nye. You might be crazy but that nigga crazier."

He ain't even look back when he said it. I was left wondering what the hell he knew that I didn't.

AN: Thank you all for the follows, likes, shares, and reblogs. Love y'all real bad.

[snorky]

Ride Into The Sunset, Would I Lie To You? Well I Got Somethin' To Say

Hey y’all! Sorry for not posting a story in a while, I have some works in progress and lots of ideas! I’ve been extra busy in my personal life so I apologize. I thank you all for your patience and support! This story is about cowboyish Arber Xhekaj (I saw a pic of him in a cowboy hat and I couldn’t help myself) and the title is based on “Hang ‘Em High” by My Chemical Romance. I hope you all enjoy this fic, and remember to take care of yourself!

Pairing: Arber Xhekaj x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Slight angst, Mentions of ex-friends with benefits?, (Let me know if I should add anything)

—

—

Loud, upbeat country music filled the dark-lit bar, jam-packed to the brim with bodies all pressed up against one another. It was a particularly busy Friday evening, where the entire city seemed to pour into the bar more with every hour after sundown. Voices all talking over one another, the stench of beer and whiskey hanging in the air, and a feeling of trouble lingering.

Montréal wasn’t sketchy by any means, it was loud and lively, just like any other city. But it was the people. Even if it was just one person though, it still seemed like he lived through others. Little fragments of him scattered all around the city. 

She wiped down the counter, allowing the next patron to be seated and served. “Next! I’m taking whoever is next!” she shouted.

A man dressed in all black sat down, his cologne so faintly recognizable, and it stung her like a sharp memory. She felt his smirk. She knew every detail of his stupid smirk, even with her back turned to him. 

“Hey, angel.” He placed his hands on the countertop. “Didn’t know you were workin’ here tonight,” he sighed. “If I did, I’d dress up a little nicer for you.”

She turned to look at him, setting the rag down on the counter. Looking into his eyes, it didn’t seem like he was going to want to lose tonight. He was here with a plan, an idea that he constructed himself.

“Don’t call me ‘angel’ Arber. You know how it is now between us.” She gave him a stare before turning around, grabbing a glass to serve him a drink. “Now, how may I help you today?”

Arber looked her up and down, the memories of their past flowing back into his mind. All the heated touches, all the longing stares, every single one of their memories. Some were under the scorching summer sun, the ocean crashing against the shore. Some were under the moon-lit night, the city quiet beneath his apartment.

“Just a neat whiskey, darling.” He drew the last part out, looking up at her. Their eyes locked, a fire burning inside of him. “Take your time,”

She took a breath in, her gaze fixated on him. He looked older now. Darker. More handsome, but she didn’t want to admit that. Although they had only grown apart a few months ago, he seemed more tempting now than ever.

“Alright, neat whiskey coming up for the gentleman.”

As much as she wanted to hate him, or even, as much as she did hate him, she needed to earn an extra tip or two that night. A little sugar-coated lie wouldn’t hurt. Because he wasn’t a gentleman, no. The way he played dirty didn’t help. The way he wouldn’t listen to her didn’t help.

Her hands drifted to the glass and a towel to wipe it down, before setting it down on the counter before Arber, his eyes watching her every move like a hawk. She poured some water into the glass, then poured the whiskey into it, the amber liquid swirling with the water.

He motioned for her to come closer to him with his two fingers, and to his surprise, she leaned closer to him. His hands slowly went up to her cowboy hat, and adjusted it on her head ever so gently.

“There you go, lookin’ like a proper cowgirl now, sweetheart,” he murmured into her ear.

She felt a chill run down her spine, her face heating up at his words. It was stupid from how easily he could melt her in his hands like this, but he enjoyed every bit of it. He let out a light chuckle as she walked away to serve the next customer, his gaze fixated on her.

Oh how he hated when her attention was on another patron though, her smile more genuine, her eyes more bright, and what he hated the most, was that she talked to him more sweetly, sugar water dripping from her tongue.

He just missed her so much. He longed for her voice, her sweet gestures that she would give him, even though he didn’t ask for it. She was the most caring person in the room no matter what, even if they were just friends.

Taking a long sip of whiskey, he turned around and looked for his friends who came with him. Without a familiar face in sight besides hers, he got up off of the stool, and made his way to the dance floor, his boots stomping on the ground with each step.

The music continued to flow through the air as if the tension in the bar was nonexistent, humming tunes of acoustic guitars, harmonicas, and gravelly voices. He danced smoothly, his steps solid and precise, the heel of his boot tapping against the ground to the beat of the song.

She’d be lying if she said that he wasn't tempting her. The way his large hands grabbed the front of his belt. The way he looked so concentrated with his tongue poking out between his lips. The way his strong arms flexed underneath his shirt when he danced. She kept her gaze on his figure, those slight shadows that seemed to flow through the dark, and she observed his every move.

Arber looked up, his eyes locking with hers from across the bar, seeing her attention focused intently on him. He smirked, that wickedly enchanting smirk, knowing that he had her focus in his grasp, and she was under his spell. His gaze was focused on her reaction, and he loved how she seemed to tense up with each of his movements, each and every step of his.

He shot her a wink that sent butterflies fluttering in her body, her face flushing with warmth against her will. Thank goodness for the dim lighting in the bar. She didn’t want to be seen like this, her strong exterior faltering just because of him. 

But she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. Arber was just, too tempting. He was like a mirage of cool water on a hot day. A false paradise to a thirsty creature.

She turned her attention back to the patron in front of her, apologizing briefly. “I’m sorry about that ma’am, what can I get for you?”

“No need to apologize.” The woman smiled sweetly. “Just some water is alright for me.”

She nodded her head and turned around, filling the glass with water, and set the drink down in front of the patron.

As the music came to an end, Arber glanced up, hoping to catch her in his sight. To his disappointment, all he saw was an empty bar, filled with patrons, but no sight of her. He sighed, wiping his palms on his jeans and adjusting his hat.

“Looking for someone, sheriff?” a voice spoke behind him. It was a voice he could recognize so easily, a voice his heart knew by memory, no matter how it could’ve ended.

“Didn’t expect you to see you on the dance floor, sugar.” He turned around slowly, his strong figure bold and overwhelming.

The memories came rushing back again, his eyes glimmered with the same sparkle from when they first met at a party. That one late summer party in September in someone’s backyard where there was laughter, banter, and lively music buzzing in the air. That one late summer party in September they met each other.

“You don’t seem to expect much, Arber.” She looked at him, gazing at his facial features.

He looked at her confusedly, wondering what her words meant. “What’da’ya mean, sweetheart? Callin’ me stupid?”

“Didn’t mean that.” She placed her hand gently against his chest. “Meant that you don’t notice the little things that add up, the deep details,”

Arber leaned in towards her touch, his attention fully on her.

“Just meant that,” she paused, “you always never asked for anything.” Looking up at him with warmth, she noticed something in him.

And just like that, they were back at the party when they first met. He remembered her eyes that seemed to sparkle under the fairy lights, her soft and sweet smile that made his lips smile in return, and her contagious laughter that made him blush. He remembered how he walked over to her as she was grabbing a drink from the cooler, her lovely sundress amplifying her beauty, and introduced himself to her with a simple handshake.

It was a fuzzy memory, his words blurred in his mind, not knowing what he said or even talked to her about, but he knew for sure that he almost fell for her right there. Almost.

Arber didn’t want to hurt her. He never did. He wanted to treat her right. She was too precious to him. Although they had never met before this, he knew about her from mutual friends. He heard stories that sounded like fairy tales about her, how she always carried a gentle smile, a kind heart and soul, and warmth wherever she went. He didn’t believe it at first, assuming that his friends just really liked her. But then he understood.

“I never asked for anything because I wanted to treat you right,” he spoke softly, his hand gently cupping her face. “I never wanted to have it end up like this.”

She leaned into his hand, savoring the warmth of it, memories drifting back to her. She missed him and she knew it damn well. She missed how he held her on the stormy, restless nights, how he laughed at her jokes, how he cared for her tenderly when she was sick that one week. “It’s okay, Arber.” She whispered.

“It really isn’t though, I hurt you and it’s so painfully obvious,” he sighed, his voice cracking.

The bar was now emptied out, chairs up on the tables, silence ringing in the air, and the majority of the lights turned off. It was just the both of them there, close to one another, just like that one September evening.

“Listen to me.”

He looked at her, taking off his cowboy hat and holding it to his side.

“It wasn’t your fault, we both got busy and changed a lot. Life happens.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Silence stood between them again, and yet they still stood close to each other, afraid that if they let go, they would be apart forever.

“How about I take you somewhere tomorrow?” he asked. “Somewhere that I could treat you right and we can catch up with your favorite meal?”

“Oh, so you already know me, Arber,” she laughed as they both walked out of the bar, the cool breeze rushing past them.

“Just wanna know you a bit more. And proper this time.” He smiled. She was going to see that smile more often.

[obsoleteozymandias]

Helloooo, can I ask for a twisted-wonderland match up? The match-up is still open right? If not then feel free to ignore this!

I'm female, and straight! But is willing to support LGBT for my friends.

My personality is: Kind, patience, childish, naive, clueless 24/7, love cute things, pastel is my favorite color! I'm also very awkward when it comes to talking to people, and I'm pretty sure I have low presence— I mean, my family & friends keeps forgeting that I'm here sometimes. I also love the idea of love (family, friends, romantic, etc).

Honestly I'm not sure how can I describe my personality, but I tried... Oh! Also my friends would definitely said that I'm the sunshine type of girl..? And I'm pretty sure they call me a social butterfly even tho I don't feel like one.

My likes are: Family, Friends, Music, Cute things, romance, books and good vibes around people/place.

My dislikes are: Bullies, people who straight up rude, Yellings, angry people? And story-cliffhangers.

My hobbies including: reading books, listening to music, drawing, talking about theories, learning about human emotions, and daydreaming.

I'm not sure if I should put on my dream but here it is kay? My dream is: To able to live happily. (And fall in love for research).

Thank you for thisss! ヾ(❀╹◡╹)ﾉﾞ

٩(＾◡＾)۶

== Twisted Wonderland ==>

I match you up with…

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim is the kind of person who, despite his lack of emotional intelligence, never forgets a name nor face. You don’t have a low presence to him, because he’s always seen you. 

You two share a lot of personality traits, especially your more cheerful and childlike mannerisms. If there’s a party to be held, you two are the life of it, even if Kalim has to drag the awkwardness out of you.

He loves that you can bounce his energy back to him in this way. It’s one of the reasons why he begins to fall for you - because he feels safe to be himself with you. 

And when you feel awkward or low on energy, don’t worry - he’s like a portable battery. He’s always ready to lend you some of his energy, whether it be through cuddles and kisses or through kind words. 

He enjoys alone time with you just as much as party time. You two watch some truly heartbreaking romance movies that end with you both in tears, clinging to each other. 

It would be so cute if the first time he realized his feelings for you was when you both watched one of these movies together. He saw the characters kiss, and suddenly, he saw himself and you on the screen, and his mind went blank. 

After that, he’s a mess of constantly wanting to be near you and being bashful about his feelings as a whole.

He’s a daydreamer alongside you, although he mostly daydreams about you. He thinks about all the dates you could go on, what gifts he could give you, when you’ll get married…and other things too!

This one was a shoe-in for me, honestly. Y’all seem perfect for one another! A sunshine x sunshine duo, if you will. 

[pazpatas]

Remember this is only my opinion you can disagree;]

I don’t know if anyone will agree but, I hate the yaoi fanart of Hannigram and Lacho. As a guy who is actively involved in the Hannibal and Better Call Saul / Breaking Bad fandoms, I am really not comfortable with these types of art. The characters aren’t ruined but it seems as if people miss completely the point of the shows.

Lacho is just… meh and shouldn’t be a ship. Like BRO THEY HAVE NO CHEMISTRY (in my opinion) and I know it’s hard to say, but Nacho Varga and Lalo Salamanca are straight men… who deal drugs and are just cool criminals. I get that there’s not a lot of people you can ship in this fandom, but these are just cool characters and y’all are ruining them with your horny bullshit.

Edit: I removed the lacho tag, you can stop commenting about me being rude. Damn y’all like to attack people who don’t have the same opinion as you.

Hannigram is a ship and it’s a very cool one! I like it, but when it’s done correctly:

There’s 3 whole seasons cooking this delicious soup of nuanced interest between Hannibal and Will. I love this series, especially as an asexual, because it shows sexual intimacy in a much more complex way and from a completely different perspective. At least, it is different from how we usually see it in media.

This intimacy is here to make us observe, these people; them and only them, in the rawest selves, between each other. That’s why it is so important. NBC Hannibal shows different characters in these moments, adding music and interesting visuals; they play with colours and sounds of fungus. Every scene is just so cool to watch and not as awkward as it usually is. I like how it looks like, people are merging in one. Sex scenes, like Alana with Hannibal and Margo with Will’s intimate shots, can also portray something that is happening subconsciously outside the very scene, disassociated from the moment.

(Hannibal spoilers season 3, 13 episode!!!)

Now, the coolest thing is that the relationship between the murder husbands doesn’t need sex. In my opinion, it’s purely intellectual! When it get’s physical its because they’re both killing the dragon. That was their intimate connection, the first time truly being with each other, not divided by two sides. They are one, together versus the dragon. After that, Will sees Hannibal; by that I mean that he sees his whole nature, and he can’t go back. His family is an illusion of something normal, but Will has reached something greater. After feeling Hannibal’s way of viewing the world he feels that he belongs. Of course, after realising that he is now with Lecter; that they are not understood by the world they exist in, both of them need to become even greater than their actual form. They had to die because their love is spiritual. By transcending into a bodyless form.

Hannibal, for me is the sanest character, he is always fine. The only moment when he’s not alright, is when Will “betrays him”. In Florence, Dr. Lecter is reckless, he kills a lot more than he needs to. He sees people, who he consumes, as pigs. It doesn’t feel bad killing them, because they’re just little animals walking around. He of course enjoys their company, humans can be befriended and he spends time with them with pleasure. It is still possible to eat them, except Will. Lecter, after Grahams betrayal, doesn’t trust him anymore. He does not want to show his true self to him anymore. Hannibal regrets opening up after he truly thought that he could be understood. So, Dr. Lecter convinces himself that Will is also just some meat. Yet again, seeing Will, after Florence, being on the same side, when they’re both confronted by Mason, Hannibal sees Will as a partner. A partner in a love crime.

SO NOW PLEASE FUCK OFF WITH YOUR PENCIL DRAWING OF NBC CHARACTERS FUCKING EACH OTHER /ref (welcome to the internet by Bo Burnham)

P.S. I realy like cute mini comics those are cool and funny keep doing them 💪

Again only my opinion, you can disagree, I literally don’t care. I would like to know your opinion actually!

[multiplicity-positivity]

[content warning: suicide] hi. you don't have to write a whole thing for this if it would be harmful to you obviously, but we've been trying to find some advice for this and don't really know where 2 look. we have at least 3 headmates who, like, their Role Thing seems 2 have become Being Suicidal. they have personalities under this but their sui thoughts overwhelm it. all they talk about is sui. all they seem to think about is sui. we want 2 support them but its v scary when someone just turns everything u say into how they can use it to commit sui. theyre not in danger of doing this 2 the body, but its still really upsetting and we want them 2 be ok. its overwhelming and we dont know how to begin to help them. if u/ur followers have any thoughts on this it would mean a lot. ty

Yipes, this post got long and heavy. It’s under a cut…

Woof, yeah, we really relate to y’all here… we feel you and we understand your struggles. I am actually one of the parts in my system who struggles with suicidal ideation the most. I have been pulled from the front and blocked off from the rest of my system in the past because of my struggles with feeling suicidal almost constantly. I’m still learning, healing, and trying to change. It’s a process. But I do think I’m in a better place now than I was, say, two or three years ago.

So yeah, um, idk how much anything I could say might help… but here’s some stuff that helped me find at least a little more hope in life.

First, it really helped me and deeply affected me when my headmates could be real with me about how my thoughts, words, and actions were affecting them. I felt hurt and moved when they started saying things like “I value life and I value your life. It hurts my feelings and makes me distressed and upset when you bring up suicide all the time.” Or “When you talk about suicide so much it makes the rest of us nervous and uneasy. The littles don’t want to be around you as much because your nonstop resorting to suicide as a solution seriously frightens them.” Idk but for me, having these gentle, yet stern, reminders from my headmates whenever I was bringing them down helped me to start noticing when I was doing it. It can be a hard realization to have that your own thoughts and feelings can have such drastic effects on your loved ones… both inside and outside your system.

Next, having a place where I can talk about suicide or whatever has been bringing me down as much as I want also helps. I really miss therapy because I was able to just vent and cry and be vulnerable with my therapist, and he listened without judgement and without trying to force me to act in one way or another. I also have my own private journal separate from the rest of my headmates. I vent there a lot and make dark art, talk about suicide and what it really would mean for myself, my system, and my loved ones. Usually after I’ve had a chance to scrawl out everything I’m feeling, it helps me feel a bit better and a little less suicidal.

Also, getting reminders of things that I actually do enjoy has helped immensely. Yeah, I’m a suicidal part, but I also like ice cream and dandelions and music. So whenever I start spiraling and getting in a super suicidal headspace, the parts who front with me or interact with me have been encouraging me to go breathe outside for a while, or eat a tasty treat, or listen to some music that I adore. One of the littles in my system drew me a picture of a dandelion lion lol. If you know anything at all that your suicidal headmates enjoy, maybe try connecting them with those things when they’re at their worst. Make some art for them, surprise them with something small and joyous, and do little things to show them that you care about them, you value their presence in your life, and you want them to be able to find joy, even if it’s just in the little moments.

Over time, for me, those little things have built up. At my therapist’s request, I’ve started keeping a list of things I like. The more I think about it, the longer the list grows. This list of things I enjoy… that’s my list of reasons to live. It’s got stuff on it like my partner system, cookies and milk, beautiful sunsets, swimming, and things like that. Maybe you can encourage your headmates to each start lists of their own. Even if they don’t have anything they think they can add right now, at least they’ll have the space for it. And then in the future, whenever their spirits are lifted, even if it’s fleeting, they can begin to start noticing that there are things in the world that can bring them happiness.

It’s definitely a process. I still get suicidal from time to time. But I do really think that these things have helped me reach a better place. And maybe something here could be useful for your system when it comes to connecting with your suicidal headmates. We really do feel for you, and I honestly do know what it’s like to be hopeless and lost, feeling worthless all the time and like suicide was the only answer. But it’s not. And I know you know that… but hopefully your headmates can start to recognize that in the future.

One last thing - staying alive for someone else is totally valid! Staying alive for your favorite show or characters is valid! Staying alive for treats and snacks is valid! Staying alive because the alternative will hurt someone you care about is valid! One day at a time, one step at a time, one foot in front of the other. Y’all will make it to a place where your suicidal headmates are able to find joy in their life. I have full faith in that. And if you need a listening ear or any advice or if there’s anything at all we can do to help y’all through this process, please let us know. We may not be a qualified mental health professional… but please trust us when we say we are a system who understands.

I’m sorry if this post got rambly, isn’t useful, or doesn’t make much sense. Seriously though, I am wishing you all the very best, and from the bottom of my heart I do hope things will get better.

[notsoattractivearenti]

Annie, come on, tell me about your home life with Christian aka your husband 🤭🤭🤭

not you feeding my delusion anon HAHAHA well you asked for it 🤪 this is a long one so here it comes 🤭

to start, we’ve settled well in italy. he’s been enjoying his time here and so have i 😋 and no we can’t speak italian yet 😂

he’s obviously been having a fantastic time with his current team (not counting the game vs juve 🤫), and i’m also doing well at my own things, so yeah it’s been great! even tho both of us usually are busy with our own works during the day, once we get home, no more work stuff between us – i mean it’s okay to talk about work for a bit, but at home it’s our time to be with each other 😌

as a pro athlete he has a specific diet, of course, meanwhile i don’t. so usually since i love to cook i’d cook us breakfast and dinner (sometimes lunch too) but more for me cuz i can eat whatever i want 🤪 as an asian obviously my dishes are always flavorful and he loves them 🤭 in case you’re wondering, yes he still has his private chef but since we got together i’ve cooked more for us 😉 and we do work out together. i’m not one who likes exercising tbh but he lovessss to drag me to work out with him 😫 so if you notice how buffed he gets lately, it’s cuz we’ve been hitting the gym a lot lately 🤭

as y’all know he’s an introvert. and i’m an extrovert. for date night we’d make compromises like if tonight we’re going out, then we’re gonna stay home the next day. on the weekends sometimes we’d go out with friends, but i’d do most of the talking lmao 😝 my husband just loves to stay home. at home sometimes we’d bake (well, he would help me bake), randomly dancing to no music, listening to his or my fave songs out loud, or just laying down doing nothing but cuddle up 🥰

every time we’d have convos about a lot of (mostly random) things, like it’s like we never run out of things to talk about and i love that about us. we’d watch some shows or movies or football matches and no, we don’t watch those quietly – we’d throw random commentaries! 😂

also one important rule for us: no coitus before match day. but after? regardless the result, it’s happening 😏

[itsdannysworld]

Sunkissed (Chapter 5)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, Danny Wagner x Reader CW: cursing, teeny tiny bit of angst, fluff, drinking, sexual innuendos, confusing love triangle stuff Summary: They both want you and you want them both....huh

enjoy-

Whose we?

You were internally panicking, you wanted to be left alone to wallow in your own self pity, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen. You unlocked the door.

“Can we talk about this all later?” You whispered, the music downstairs almost drowning your words out.

“We’re not mad baby, we just wanna discuss everything.” Jake spoke up. You opened the door and they shuffled in, the bathroom being big enough to fit y’all comfortably.

The moment everyone was situated you started rambling,

“Ok so Danny saw me leaving your room the other night and he drove me home and later like the next day we kissed but I really like both of you and Jake-” You gestured to him. “You and I aren’t exclusive but it’s still probably a dick move on my end and I’m sorry to the both of you.”

You knew none of that made sense, but it just kinda of tumbled out of your mouth.

“Y/n, we don’t mind sharing you.” Danny spoke up.

Huh

“I’m sorry?” Your mind was racing.

“Well in the 10 minutes it took us to find you we kinda talked about it, and for now we don’t really mind if you want both of us.” Jake said. At this point you were sitting on the sink/counter while the boys were in front of you. You were relieved, but knew that this mess was far from over.

“I mean-“ You took a pause. “I can do that, I guess.”

“Good.” Jake took a step closer to you, resting his hand on your thigh.

“Now let’s get back to the party before people start wondering where we are.” Danny made the move to leave the bathroom.

“I’m gonna clean my face up and use the restroom, I’ll see y’all downstairs.” You smiled. It wasn’t a big smile, but it was there. You were surprised either of them were ok with that, especially enough to propose the idea to you. As you hopped of the counter you splashed your face with water and analyzed your face. Your makeup was long gone, but you didn’t mind too much. You had no idea what you were about to get yourself into.

Balancing both Jake and Danny? That’s gonna be a lot to handle. Your phone dinged pulling you away from your thoughts.

Jakey:

Can I see you after the party? To just talk about everything…..and more if you want 😉

You replied with a thumbs up and told him you planned on heading out around midnight. You hadn’t drank enough to prevent you from driving, knowing you would probably want to be home after tonights events.

The rest of the night went smoothly and you were even having fun. You danced around with Josh for awhile, soaking up all of his positive energy. You checked your phone and saw the time, noticing it was 11:50.

“I should probably head out, I loved seeing everyone!” You shouted, directing it at Josh and Sam.

“Love you y/n! Get home safe darling!” Josh yelled back. You walked down the driveway and towards your car, starting the engine and heading towards your apartment. You got in the house and threw yourself on the couch, tossing your keys and other belongings on the kitchen counter. You were emotionally and physically exhausted, and as much as you liked being around Jake, your social battery was gone. You went to your room and took your shoes and jewelry off and throwing on some pajamas, hearing your doorbell ring just as you finished tying the drawstring on your pants.

You went and opened the door, and there stood Jake.

“Hey, come in.” You ushered him inside. He plopped down on your couch and you joined him, resting your head on his lap.

“Whatchu wanna talk about?” You asked.

“When were you gonna tell me?” He seemed slightly betrayed, which was a totally valid emotion in this situation.

“I don’t know to be honest. I wanted to figure out my emotions and feelings before I told you, but I guess I don’t get that privilege.” You dryly laughed. It wasn’t a humorous situation, but you didn’t know what else to do.

“Yeah I get that. Look y/n I know I should’ve told you this earlier and I’ve been avoiding it but I have to get this off my chest. I know we agreed not to fall for each other because us dating would be hard to deal with but I can’t help but love you. You make me happy and I like being around you. I like the look you give me when you need me.”

The shock must’ve been written on your face because his normally confident demeanor seemed to falter.

“Jake, I need to think about all of this. You mean the world to me and I do appreciate you telling me.”

You sat up and kissed his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, and slowly but surely his lips. This was sweet and slow, which wasn’t a common occurrence between the two of you. You got on-top of him and started to straddle him, his hands going down to rest on your hips.

“Let me show you how much I love you.”

At this point you couldn’t form coherent thoughts and just nodded. He picked you up and carried you to your room and gently laid you on your bed.

Shit this was gonna be a good night

The morning came to quickly. You turned over to look at Jake and noticed he was already gone. You partially expected it, but part of you wanted him there. You made the move to get out of bed when you saw his shirt was still on the floor. You smiled, knowing that he was still in the apartment. You walked to your dresser and pulled on an old tee shirt and left your room. You immediately saw Jake standing by your coffee maker, and noticed he was also cooking eggs. As much as you wanted to go talk to him and how sweet you thought he looked, you quietly ducked in the bathroom and sat on the floor. In a way, bathrooms were your anxiety cooldown spot. You were left super confused. You knew you didn’t have to choose between the two right now, but seeing Jake shirtless making you breakfast completely changed your emotions towards him. You liked him? You stood up and threw water on your face.

Seriously y/n? You caught feelings for both of them? Plus his confession from last night didn’t help anything.

“Morning baby” You had made your way to the kitchen, Jake noticing you immediately.

“Good morning.” You elongated the end of morning. “Did you sleep ok? I swear I need to get a new mattress.” You pulled yourself up and sat on your counter.

“Yeah I slept alright, and your eggs are now done.” He motioned towards the food he had just plated.

“Thank you hun, you didn’t have to cook me breakfast, especially since your the guest.” You smiled, grabbing the plate from his hands.

“Hey y/n?”

“Yeah Jake?”

“Can I take you on a real date?” He seemed nervous, which you found quite cute. You knew going on a date with him would add so many more feelings, but you really wanted to see what a date with him would be like.

“Ok.” You smiled.

Little did you know that this was all going to turn into one big competition.

[pocketweiss]

RWBY Characters’ Favorite Taylor Swift Albums!

In honor of the release of Speak Now TV, I present to you my long-awaited thoughts on which Taylor Swift albums would be the RWBY characters’ favorites! I tried to pick at least one character for each album (except evermore bc I just haven’t listened to it enough I’m so sorry evermore I’ll get to u I promise) RWBY also has a million characters so there are several who I have not (yet) given an album to.

(I also WILL be taking constructive criticism; I want to know if y’all disagree with my choices and/or which albums you think other characters would like!)

Ruby: Red (Taylor’s Version)

I know it’s *so* on the nose, but I couldn’t not choose it. Besides, I do genuinely believe that Ruby would love this album. This is an album she can appreciate all throughout her character arc. She loves to jam to the upbeat songs during the early volumes, and then in the later volumes when she’s in her Mental Illness Era, she gains a new appreciation for the sadder songs.

Favorite Song: At first her favorite is Stay Stay Stay, but around v8-9, she’s listening to Nothing New on repeat.

(Also, NO ONE let Taiyang get his hands on All Too Well ten minute version. He will never recover.)

Weiss: folklore

Folklore is for the depressed girlies, the burnt-out gifted kids, the perfectionists, and those who feel out of place. Weiss can certainly relate, so songs like this is me trying resonate strongly with her. And the last great american dynasty?? That one hits a little too close to home as well.

Favorite Song: mirrorball. I mean, come on. Any song that has mirror imagery/symbolism is so Weiss-coded. And the song as a whole is so her.

Blake: also folklore

Blake loves folklore for entirely different reasons than Weiss does. Blake is both a hopeless romantic and a lover of stories, so the trilogy of betty, august, and cardigan are right up her alley. (Those three songs also somewhat fit the v4-6 perspectives of Blake, Sun, and Yang, respectively. Just think about it.)

Favorite Song: betty. Again, just think about it.

Yang: 1989

Yang is absolutely an enjoyer of upbeat pop music. It’s great music to work out to, and in general gets her pumped up and makes her feel hot and powerful. Plus, even a lot of the sad songs on this album are less melancholic and more intense. She can easily channel any anger she has into these songs. Even when she’s in her angstiest moments, Yang still wants to be able to jam out.

Favorite Song: Bad Blood (though v4-5 Yang has a special appreciation for All You Had To Do Was Stay. Just think about it.)

Jaune: Debut

I feel like if anyone is going to listen to cheesy country music for teenage girls, it would be Jaune. It doesn’t help that he has that stupid guitar. He definitely tries to learn several of the songs from this album, but can’t get the hang of most of them.

Favorite Song: Teardrops On My Guitar. He *does* manage to learn this one on guitar, and he plays it *constantly* after Weiss rejects him.

Nora (and Ren): Lover

Nora is a lover of bubbly upbeat music and sappy love songs!! She’s SUCH a romantic, and she loves singing and dancing around to these songs. This album is also Ren’s favorite because it’s Nora’s favorite. He loves nothing more than to watch her sing and dance. They’re both such absolute saps, it’s adorable.

Nora’s Favorite Song: Paper Rings

Ren’s Favorite Song: Lover

Pyrrha: Fearless (Taylor’s Version)

Fearless is an album about girlhood, romance, and fantasy. With all of the pressure of being in the public eye and living up to expectations. Pyrrha wants nothing more than to be a normal girl and enjoy all of the classic teen experiences like everyone else. Gods know she’s also a hopeless romantic, and her idea of romance is very sweet and fairytale-like, which is very Fearless.

Favorite Song: You Belong With Me. It’s LITERALLY her pining for Jaune. Just think about it.

Sun and Neptune: Speak Now (Taylor’s Version)!!

To me, Sun and Neptune are the epitome of the true and pure definition of ‘boys will be boys’. They have this very endearing chaotic energy, and they’re not afraid to get excited about silly things. So I think they’d absolutely blast some ‘girly’ music in the car and scream-sing it with conviction.

Neptune’s Favorite Song: Haunted. This is the boys’ favorite song to blast in the car and sing along to. All of SSSN gets in on this.

Sun’s Favorite Song: Foolish One. This is less of a ‘scream in the car song’ for him and more of a ‘listen on late nights when you’re yearning for the girl who doesn’t love you back’ song. ):

Roman: reputation

The thing about reputation is, yes, it’s about revenge and spite and resonates with every girl who claims—whether accurately or not—to be a ‘bad bitch’. This alone fits the bill for Roman, but it’s important to note that reputation is ALSO an album full of powerful love songs. This makes it absolutely perfect for Roman, as he is so deeply in love with Neo. He loves to serenade her with songs like Don’t Blame Me or Dress, and he’s always so dramatic about it. Neo doesn’t really listen to Taylor herself, but she does adore it when Roman sings to her.

Favorite Song: King of My Heart. Idk it just feels right. Honorable mention to Getaway Car, which he always likes to put on when he hijacks an airship.

Cinder: Midnights

You’d think that Cinder would also be a rep girlie, and on paper she absolutely is. But something kept drawing me to Midnights for her. And for the longest time I didn’t understand why these Vibes were so strong. And then I realized. It’s the fucking Cinderella connection, innit. Meet me at midnight indeed.

Favorite Song: Vigilante Shit. reputation is for girlies who think they’re bad bitches but really aren’t, and Vigilante Shit is that same energy but cranked up to 11. I love her, but she thinks she’s so much cooler and more badass than anyone else thinks she is XD

Those are all of my thoughts for now! Let me know what you think, and feel free to add your suggestions as well (:

[saturngoldenchild]

Astrology observations: + some music for u <3

Ur favorite sea goat is back hiiiii 💓💓🫧🫧 some short observations for u and music you should listen to based on ur dominant element. I am going to open my inbox. I want to try it out first and then I’ll make sure to post rules if necessary. That is all, please enjoy this and the meaning of hello kitty <3

- 12th placements and not being believed is so true. These people know the answers, they just can’t prove it. Always trust your intuition babies.

- Bro… so I was looking at air moons n was losing my mind. I collected a bunch of Aquarius moons celebs cause I was like let me see who of my people is famous 🫡 and it was so sad. They all had some sort of very traumatic, difficult past. I also noticed that people wouldn’t think these people have suffered to such extremes due to the image they put on. We have to remember Aquarius is know as caring of the collective, which despite Saturn’s influence, makes it a very hopeful sign. With Uranus they’re looking toward the future with hopes of finding something better.

- one thing I love about earth placements at their best, especially mercury, is how blunt they can be with what they feel. Again, I think this is the placements at their best. But there is a reason why they get called honest, the only thing missing is authenticity with their emotions which again comes with time.

- When it comes to a situation where someone needs to take charge… if there is a water sign, they will try to take the lead but could fail due to a lack of diligence or just not being taken serious. They could be soft spoken or their stance could be a bit inward or unsure. I know this is kind of a stereotype but I do think there is some truth to it in the sense that a lot of the time their emotions can be out for the public to see. So if there is a problem and they are worried or upset it will show. I don’t want to perpetuate this “omg water signs r babies 🥺” thing it’s so corny. How do you guys feel about this???? Obviously this depends on the rest of the chart WE KNOW 🙄.

- Libra moons could have a mother who was highly critical of their looks. Libra moons, especially the men I have encountered are very critical of looks as well. I know three people with this placement who have looked their so in their eyes and told them how ugly their outfit is. 😭😭😭 I don’t mean it to say y’all are bitches, you kind of remind me of how critical Hispanic aunts are.

- Libra in the 8th or Libra Venus could be an attention seeker for their SO or their crush. Libra Venus are very blunt on the fact that they like you if it is a crush. They are the type to flirt with people and not get let down if it’s not immediately reciprocated. Y’all are just charming like 😋 Libra in the 8th is very clingy with their SO in private. Not in a bad way, they’re mischievous and it’s endearing.

- I didn’t understand fire placements being seen as egotistical until I saw it this way. Fire signs are very independent which can sometimes evolve into feeling as though you don’t need anyone for the wrong reasons. The reasons being…thinking nobody knows better than you do 💀 after that I understood all the other points. sometimes it’s okay to sit and take in your environment ur still a bad bitch but it’s still good to listen to those who you trust even if you don’t follow through with their advice.

- the best dancers I have seen usually have Venus ruled or Saturn ruled placements. It could make sense due to Venus ruling over art forms. Saturn placements have amazing stamina which I don’t feel is talked about enough, it ruled over time after all.

Artists you should listen to based on your dominant planet:

- Air signs: Start listening to Arca n you’ll start levitating I’m telling you. A creator on tiktok pointed this out but arca has a Libra stellium and it really shows. I’d say also if you like noise music you will love them. also check them out cause what are u doing with ur life not supporting a Latin artist 🤨 also start listening to flo milli this second cause she’s a genius and that aqua moon really comes through to shine.

- Earth signs: I am begging you to listen to RM I think you will find the comfort ur looking for honestly. As I said one of the lovely things I have found about the bluntness of an earth sign is their ability to be honest about how they feel no matter how bleak it may sound. His music is also just very grounded idk how else to explain it. ON ANOTHER NOTE…listen to double Capricorn poppy’s “i disagree”. I’m telling you you won’t regret it, she’s angry and she’s letting go and she’s letting karma do it’s thing. Rico Nasty lovely double Taurus that also makes music for angry, hot, earth signs. Also listen to Lous and the Yakuza, I love me a Virgo moon and will never deny it.

- Water signs: bjork right now. This woman has a scary ass chart (triple Scorpio) but her music is just as intense and surreal as these signs feel. It’s an experience truly. Also if you haven’t already check out Chloe x Halle they have such a good combo of cancer/Pisces placements that oof. ALSO listen to Moyko cause let me tell you I don’t have that whole chart but if that ain’t the most watery water sign music with a couple earth placements here and there. His music has me bawling but it’s comforting at the same time. And if you thought I wasn’t gonna talk about majority of ateez having water moons SPECIFICALLY CANCER MOONS YOURE wrong n u look dumb now. listen to them and Kali Uchis to feel confident.

- Fire signs: I don’t make the rules YALL need to listen to Rihanna. HER ARIES MOON IS MY WEAKNESS. It’s just passionate but also flirty and I think you’ll have fun cause like it’s Rihanna. listen to doechii right now. My favorite Leo ever, just blunt and confident but also very real and honest with her emotions on her songs. Also, Ann Peebles has a Leo moon and that is very personal to me. They way her songs handle heart break is very much I AM A FIRE MOON so yk.

okay lovely people this is all. I will post more often I promise <3

[forever-rogue]

your stories are the best! i cant tell you how much i love them, especially how you write steven 🥺. he deserves all the love tbh, but he also deserves some spice in his life. if you feel like writing it how about some steven spice where he loves to be praised by his s.o. 👀😌💛

totally ok if you dont write it tho! I dont mind💘 I hope you have an amazing week!!

AN | I’m sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for some time! But I hope y’all enjoy! Aka - in which Steven Grant gets spoiled and praised 😌

Pairing | Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Mild Language, Some Spicy Time

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main, Moon Knight

── ･ ｡ﾟ���: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Steven never asked for a lot. No, he would rather continue to give and give rather than ask for something from you. Even though you were more than willing to give; even when he didn’t ask for it. He did so much for you, that you hoped what you offered was even remotely good enough in turn. Not that he would ever say it wasn’t; in his eyes you could do no wrong. Just like him. 

You paced around your office, waiting for him to pick up the phone, ready to let him know of your plans. You were sure that he would enjoy the evening you had planned, but regardless of what he would say, you weren’t going to take no for an answer. 

“Hello darling,” his sweet voice was so gentle and cheerful that it made your heart flutter with happiness, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Do I need a reason to call you, love?” you sat back down and put your feet up on your desk, ready to indulge him in your little plans, but you decided instead to leave it more or less a complete surprise.

“Of course not,” he agreed softly, an amused chuckle reaching your ears, “it’s always wonderful when you call.”

“Well then,” you sighed softly, imagining his silly little smile that you loved so much, “I’m hoping you’ll think it’s wonderful if I ask if you’re free tonight.”

“You’re in luck - I happen to be very free,” he agreed, “I mean…I would have made myself free for you. I-I-I’m only free for you. I’m-”

“Steven.”

“Yes?”

“Stop talking, love,” you giggled, “it’s a date then. Want to come to mine around six?”

“That sounds perfect,” he agreed eagerly and your skin raised with gooseflesh at the mere idea of seeing him that evening, “I’ll see you at six.”

“See you at six, handsome.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

You’d left work early, deciding that you weren’t busy enough to justify sitting around and wasting time. As soon as you’d gotten home, you cleaned up the few things that were out of place and made sure everything was pristine. On your way home you stopped at the flower shop, and picked up a colorful display of blooms and blossoms that you were sure Steven would like. He often brought you flowers, the reaction on your face each time was priceless, and this time you wanted to do the same for him. You’d picked up everything to make his favorite dinner and dessert, and even a notice of the nice wine you both enjoyed. It was a simple date night at home, but you hoped he would enjoy it nonetheless.

After everything was prepped, you hopped into the shower and took your time getting ready, slipping into the pretty dress that you loved and knew Steven did too, even if he wouldn’t admit it. By the time six o’clock rolled around, you were in the kitchen, singing along to some music you had put on as you worked on dinner. You heard the sound of the door softly, which caused you to stop what you were doing and run over to him. 

“My love!” you barely gave him the chance to close the door before you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. He made a small sound of surprise but was quick to return the gesture, swaying gently with you in his arms, “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Me too,” he promised, as you took his face and cradled it in your hands in order to get a proper look at him. He was so handsome, from those soft eyes to that silly smile, and those roguish curls that it still managed to take your breath away. You kissed him, softly letting your lips linger against his, “I love you.”

“Oh,” you’d said the words to him probably a thousand times over by now, but the sentiment still made butterflies explode in his stomach. You stroked his cheek when you spied the bit of color rising up into his cheeks, “I love you too.”

“I have something for you,” you took his hand and pulled him towards the kitchen, where he immediately spotted the flowers. His eyes widened in surprise as he looked between them and you. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, tilting your head towards them. He wondered if you could hear the wild, erratic beating of his heart as he tried not to melt at the sweet gesture. It wasn’t that you didn’t do things like this for him, you did - just as he did for you, but this had come just so…out of the blue. At a perfect time, just like you’d known he needed a little pick me up, “do you like them?”

“I love them,” he promised quietly, gently touching a few of the soft petals. He swallowed the lump in his throat, making a surprised sound instead as you wrapped your arms around his waist. You rested your head against his back, breathing him in and relaxing. You couldn’t help but smile when you felt him place a hand on top of yours, “thank you, darling. You really didn’t need to do all of this for me.”

“I wanted to,” you pressed a few kisses to his shoulder, hoping he could feel them through the soft fabric of his sweater, “you are a good man, Steven Grant. You always do so much for me, but this time I wanted to do something for you. I want to spoil you sometimes too, love.”

A shiver ran through his spine at your words and he quickly turned around, taking your face in his warm, large hands before kissing you gently. The sudden shift took you by surprise, but it was easy as always to melt into him. He tasted of peppermint and sweetness, his lips soft and plush. You could easily kiss him for hours. 

“Steven,” you couldn’t help but giggle in between his kisses. He seemed to be loath to let you go, wanting to leave all of you against him. Not that you minded of course, no - if it was possible you’d never let him go, “silly man! Let me go so I can finish dinner, otherwise we’ll be eating nothing but ashes and char!”

“It’d be worth it so long as I get to keep kissing you,” he grinned as you put your hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him back. He sighed dramatically before trailing after you, “what can I help with, darling?”

“Your company is more than enough,” you insisted, “but if you want to do something, and I know you won’t let it go until I give you something to do - grab some wine glasses and pick a bottle. I got a couple that we both like, but tonight’s your choice.”

“You’re too good to me,” a light red flush had crept up in his cheeks as he busied himself with the little task you’d given him. You hadn’t even told him what you were making for dinner, but he immediately knew it was his favorite, “how about a nice red?”

“Sounds wonderful,” you agreed, “just like you, Steven Grant.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

After dinner and a bottle of wine split between the two of you, you found yourselves on the couch, cuddled in a warm blanket with a movie playing in the background. But…neither of you were paying attention to it, too lost in each other. 

You’d started off next to each other, with your hands together, fingers entwined but that had quickly turned into a slew of kisses. There was a certain fervent hunger that seemed to be in both of you that evening and you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. After a little bit, you found yourself perching in his lap, exchanging kisses that grew more needy with each passing moment.

“Steven,” his name dripped from your lips like the sweetest, thickest honey as kissed along his jaw. You could feel him inhale sharply as you continued down his neck, nipping at the soft skin lightly. There was part of you that was tempted to mark him up to let everyone know he was yours, but you refrained. You knew he’d never live it down and didn’t want him to get relentlessly teased. You stopped and pulled back for a moment before cradling his face in your hands, “I love you so much. You’re so good to me, baby. I love everything about you.”

You could practically see his expression soften as he bit his bottom lip. You knew he tended to be more shy, but there was something about it that you just loved. His hands were settled on your hips, fingers splayed. He opened and closed his mouth for a moment before giving you a small nod, “I-I love you too. You’re so-”

“Shhh,” you put a finger to his lips and shook your head. Once you were satisfied that he wasn’t going to try and dissuade you from speaking, you pulled your finger away, “you are always so good and gentle to me, so now you’re going to let me do the same to you. You’re going to let me love on you, yes?”

“Y-yes,” he nodded, swallowing so thickly that you could see his adam’s apple bob up and down, “please.”

“My sweet Steven,” you leaned in and buried your face into the crook of his neck, sliding your hands up his chest and slowly starting to undo the buttons of his shirt. He smelled so good - warm and musky and something that was uniquely him. You could never get enough of it, “my sweet boy. You are so handsome.”

You pressed a kiss to each part of his skin that slowly became exposed. Steven sighed lightly as you shifted your hips against his. You could feel that he was already hard, his erection pressing against your clothed center, “so kind. So smart. So good. You’re everything to me.”

A small, wistful little sigh escaped his lips, his grip on your hips getting stronger. He was always so gentle with you, but sometimes you wouldn’t have minded if he was a little rougher. You put your hands on top of his and tightened his grip. He looked up at you with expectant expression, always careful not to cross any unspoken boundaries, “darling-”

“You can let go, Steven,” you ran a hand through his dark curls, ruffling the soft, roguish locks, “have I ever told you how handsome you are?”

“Y-yes-”

“How good you make me feel?” your hand was on his cheek as you pulled him in for a kiss, “no one makes me feel as good as you do. No one touches me like you do. It’s like you were made for me, Steven Grant.”

“I-I-I-”

“But I know,” you’d cut off his nervous stammering by pressing your lips to his, taking every little bit he was willing to give, “I know that you like being good. Which you are, my love, you are the best thing in my life. But sometimes, I feel like you want to let go. Is that what you want, handsome?”

“Mhmm,” you could feel the wild beating of his heart from under your hand that was on his chest. His skin was flushed, tan and crimson, and overly tantalizing. You wanted to map out every last bit of his skin with your lips, to carve out all of his freckles and scars, “I-I want that.”

“I know you do,” you cooed in his ear, “and I want you to. I want you to use me however you want. I’m yours, Steven. Take what you need.”

“A-are you sure?” his eyes flicked to your lips and down your chest before spotting to admire where you were sitting in his lap and slowly grinding yourself against him, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you promised, “I trust you - more than anyone else. Let go, my sweet, wonderful, handsome boy. Take what you need and let me give you what you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you slowly climbed off his lap, making him groan slightly from the loss, but quickly held out your hand to him, “come on, love. Let me make you feel good and spoil you in every which way possible. Then you can take whatever you need from me, without holding back.”

“I love you,” his hand slipped into yours as you quickly pulled him towards the bedroom.

“I love you, Steven Grant.”

[shreddedparchment]

Perennial Pt.21

Faith

10/06/2022

Pairing: Bucky x Florist!Reader          Word Count: 2,420

Warnings: blood, violence, angst, pining, cuteness, language

Featured Flower: None

A/N: I can’t believe I was able to get this one out tonight. It’s highly unedited. Sorry. I’m still in a lot of pain. Lots going on in my life right now but I want to focus on this chapter. If you read it, let me know what you think and if you enjoyed it! What did you like about it? Distract me, y’all. xoxo

After a few days of Bucky’s absence, you’re worried.

Finally, at the end of the week, he sends you a text.

Bucky: Miss me?

You: Duh! Where are you?

Bucky: Sorry, kid. Better to keep that under wraps until things are done.

You: Which will be when?

Bucky: I don’t know.

You: Bucky…

Bucky: I know, sugar. Trust me.

You: Why did Steve ask me for my keys?

Bucky: He and Tony are checking out the apartment to make sure it’s safe. They’re gonna install a security system. Top of the line. No one is getting anywhere near you again without me and the entire Avengers team knowing.

You: Wouldn’t it be easier to just have you with me all the time?

Bucky: I wanna come home, kid. I’m sorry I didn’t text sooner. And I probably won’t be texting with any more frequency. If anything, you might hear from me less.

You: I know. I’m sorry. I’m just stressed. You just got back and now you’re gone again.

You: Kinda feels like I saw you more before we started dating. Maybe we should break up and then I can see you more?

Bucky: …

You: A joke, you grump.

Bucky: Jokes are supposed to be funny.

You: And a new couple is supposed to be happy. I’m just trying to bring some levity to an inescapable situation, okay? You know damn well that now that I have you there’s no way I’m letting you go. Do you know how long I watched you from afar? Wishing?

There’s a pause and you think he might be done texting but then your phone dings again.

Bucky: When I get home, I’m gonna make sure you know how much I miss you.

You: Sap. You threatening to dick me down?

Bucky: Pfft, do you have to say it like that?!

You: lol How else should I say it? I want you all the time.

Bucky: Nowhere near as much as I want you.

You: Wanna bet?

Bucky: Once your place is done, you need to make sure you stay there from now on. It’ll be safer than mine.

You: Fine. But I’m taking your pillow. And some shirts.

Bucky: Take them. Whatever you need.

Bucky: Shit, I gotta go.

You: Okay. Bye.

Bucky: Love you, kid.

You: I love you. Be safe.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two Months Later

“Wow, apparently the corruption went all the way into the royal family,” Kamala exclaims in quiet awe as she watches the TV you’d installed in the corner of the coffee shop.

Normally you have it set to some relaxing music that you know your flowers enjoy just as much as your coffee patrons, but as you’re closing, you give Kamala reign over the remote.

“Is this what Bucky has been doing?” She wonders, turning to look over at you as you finish counting the money in the till.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I haven’t heard from him in three weeks. And honestly, he can’t really tell me anything about what he’s doing. Safety and all that shit.”

Kamala shuts the TV off and moves to put the remote in its spot by the register. She’s smirking, her young face full of amusement as she leans against the counter.

“You miss him lots, huh?” She guesses.

You sigh, realizing that the bitterness you’re feeling at his lack of contact is because you truly do miss him more than you ever thought you could. Even when he’d disappeared you hadn’t missed him like this.

Dating him is making things harder.

“So, I guess that means you have no idea when he’ll be home, huh?” She asks, seemingly already knowing the answer from the tone of her voice.

“Nope. Just gotta wait.” It’s the waiting that’s killing you.

Knowing he’s out there somewhere. Knowing that he’s alive and not calling. Not texting.

And he is alive because you won’t let yourself think anything else.

You can hear Kamala talking as you wrap up the profits for the day and slip it into a deposit bag. She follows you as you place it in the safe in your office and make sure it’s locked securely before shutting off the light and getting your bag.

She’s still chirping away about Steve and her trip to the tower as you’re pulling down the metal shutters of your shop. With a sigh, she takes the keys from you and bends down to lock it for you before placing the keys back in your hand.

“You didn’t hear anything I said, did you?” She asks, not really waiting for an answer because she already knows you weren’t focused.

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, remorse and worry lacing your slight bitterness from before. “I’m just…I want him home.”

Kamala nods, adjusts her bag, and then reaches out to pat your shoulder.

“I have math homework. Bye, boss.”

You watch her turn on her heel and march–well, almost skip–off into the city. “See ya.”

You stare until she’s a small figure in the distance and just as expected, just as Steve said, you see the glimmer of her power shine for a split second before it zips up into the sky above the tall buildings.

She’s still so young and yet she has that much power. Such a heavy burden for such a young girl. Worse that she doesn’t exactly see her gift like the heavy responsibility that it really is.

You can’t blame her. At her age, you’d have probably been just as excited to stretch your muscles and see what you could do had you been gifted with some type of power.

A strange yearning takes hold in your chest as you turn to head up into your building, wishing that you really had been given powers of some kind. At least then you could be with Bucky when he leaves for this long.

You’re so wrapped up in your missing Bucky that you don’t notice the looming figure resting against the wall beside the elevator doors as you exit on the top floor. Your brain, on some level, notices the shape in your periphery, but you don’t turn until the accented voice calls your name.

You freeze, keys clutched more tightly in your fist and turn to look at the familiar Sokovian.

He looks like shit. His hair is a mess sticking up in several directions and laced with grime and some type of sticky clear substance. His long fur lined coat is frayed and torn, smeared with dirt. His pants are no better. The purple mask clutched in his hand is ripped in several places so that if he were to put it one of his eyes would peek out unobstructed, cheekbone and temple too.

“Where is he?” you gasp, unable to catch your breath as your stomach drops and your chest goes cold.

Zemo swallows, pushes off of the wall and approaches you with surprising calm.

“Come,” he urges you and reaches to take hold of your forearm.

You don’t resist as he pulls you back into the elevator and ride it all the way down to the first floor. He steers you towards the back alley exit, releasing your arm when he’s sure you’ll continue to follow him.

Neither of you speak as your hands grow cold and sweaty. Your neck prickles as dread fills your belly and Zemo continues to stalk through the dark city streets.

It’s probably minutes–though it feels like hours–of walking later when Zemo finally stops in front of a rusted warehouse door, his eyes scanning the area quickly before he ducks inside and you match his urgency and shove into the darkness behind him then round him as he shuts out the dim city lights.

You can hear the dust of the abandoned space shift beneath his heavy boots as he walks around you again and when his hand closes around your forearm again you let him pull you along through the darkness.

Silhouettes of broken crates, old metal lockers, warped metal stairs, and the smell of rust surrounds you. There’s a faint dripping somewhere to your left as you pass an open doorway but inside is more darkness that you only glance at as Zemo leads the way.

The heaviness in the air fills your nostrils, the dustmotes kicked up by your feet tickle your nose and you somehow manage to resist sneezing as Zemo stops again, this time a long vertical silver line shines ahead.

He hesitates then after a moment drags you the rest of the way to the silver line which you realize is light seeping through the crack between two large wooden doors.

He knocks and a shift on the other side blocks out the shine for a second, the outline of a masked figure darkens the space before the doors are pulled open.

“What the hell are you doing?” The aggression in the masked man’s voice makes you bristle but you have no time to be offended by the curl of his lip as he watches Zemo and waits for an explanation.

You’re busy devouring the space behind him, the large expanse and the single metal gurney at the center of the empty warehouse where a dark figure lays too still.

“What I promised,” Zemo says.

You see a shine of dark metal on the gurney and your gasp catches in your throat as your eyes sting painfully. Your feet move on their own, dragging you forward into a run towards the figure but before you can even make it three steps a tight grip takes hold on your upper arm and yanks you back roughly.

“Stop,” the helmeted man growls. “What is this?”

“Let me go,” you demand, no fear in your voice. Only anger at being stopped.

“I haven’t put a bullet between your eyes out of respect for the acquaintance we share. If you do not wish to end up on a missing person’s report, I suggest you release the woman.”

Zemo’s threat is real but still the masked man doesn’t let go.

“Walker…” Zemo warns.

Another two seconds pass and you can feel John Walker’s hand slowly loosen. You pull out of his grip and race to the gurney with watering eyes.

“This is an unnecessary risk,” the U.S. Agent says.

“If that were you laying there, he would not have hesitated to bring your wife.”

John makes some type of noise in the back of his throat but doesn’t say anything again.

Bucky looks like shit too. Just like Zemo, only worse. He’s so pale, his lips almost blue in the dim light that filters in from the long line of horizontal windows along the top of the warehouse walls. As coated in dust as they are, it isn’t much.

“Oh my god, Bucky…” you sob quietly, your heart breaking at the cuts to his beautiful face. His right arm is broken and crudely slung across his chest in what looks like torn up old shirts or sheets.

As you explore his body you notice a long gash along his right thigh, a stab wound just underneath his ribs on the right, and his face is black and blue in the spots that are not pale as a ghost.

You sweep his greasy black locks out of his sweaty, dirty face and bite down hard on your lip to keep from crying out.

“What happened?” You ask the two men behind you.

“We were moments from victory,” Zemo begins. “The last of the threat was nearly contained when Barnes noticed the trap set for us. He saved us both with the last moments he had before the bomb went off.”

You sob as your hands flutter pointlessly around his handsome, grimy face.

“When the dust settled,” Walker says, sounding bored by his words as he speaks them. “He was just laying there. Didn’t move. Wouldn’t move. We were able to finish the job but Bucky didn’t and hasn’t woken up in a week. It took us forever to get him back here unconscious and under the radar.”

The way Walker talks about the ordeal of getting Bucky home it sounds as if he’s annoyed by the inconvenience. You almost reach for Bucky’s knife at his hip and throw it at him but resist the urge and instead start rifling through your purse.

“I would have taken him to your apartment,” Zemo says softly. “But we thought perhaps moving him again might do more damage. His pulse is very weak and we’re not sure why he isn’t healing. I think something is suppressing his abilities. Normally I would rejoice in the new possibility of nullifying his type of strength but despite our turbulent history, Barnes is not a bad man. I promised to make certain that you two were reunited.”

Zemo sure did keep his word. Your fingers move at lightning speed through your contacts and you press your phone to your ear as it rings frustratingly slow.

“Who are you calling?” Walker asks, sounding irritated.

“Steve,” you tell them.

“Then this is where I leave you,” Zemo says. “I have kept my word. I hope you find a way to save him. Truly.”

When you turn to thank him for at least making sure you two managed to get back together you find he’s already gone.

Strangely, Walker moves towards you and unholsters the pistol at his hip. He removes the safety and then turns it around to offer you the handle.

“You know how to use one of these, right?”

You nod.

“I can’t be here when they get here. If anyone asks…”

“I get it,” you take the gun, fingers tingling at the powerful weight.

Walker gives you a nod, gives Bucky one last glance, then turns and leaves through the same doors that Zemo had brought you in through.

The phone finally stops ringing and Steve’s sleepy voice calls your name, “What’s wrong?”

“Steve,” you sob loudly finally.

“Where are you? What’s happened?” Steve demands, already breathing hard as you’re sure he’s pulling on his clothes and heading out the door.

“Bucky…” you begin. “Help me, Steve.”

“Turn on your bracelet,” he orders. “We’re on our way.”

The line goes dead and you reach with wobbly fingers to pinch the repaired silver button on your bracelet. It warms under your touch, vibrates once very quickly, and you hope that Steve and the others are fast enough to get here before you fall apart completely.