#It's a wonderful chain reaction

[autumnrose11]

“That’s what I love about reading: one tiny thing will interest you in a book, and that tiny thing will lead you onto another book, and another bit there will lead you onto a third book. It’s geometrically progressive — all with no end in sight, and for no other reason than sheer enjoyment.”

~ Juliet Ashton

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

[rox-of-iu]

ayoo guess who finally sat down and caught up with cultivate B)

is me. so you know what that means.

spoiler warning for cultivate ch 30-37

there was actually.... more things i wanted to draw but I already did so many I had to physically restrain myself hfsjkkdh anyway yes can you tell i love this fic very much

yet once again. cultivate by the wonderful @neonghostcat

[friendscfmine]

[withering, languishing with my arm over the back of the couch like an ailing victorian woman] ugh....... stenny........

[tvrningout-a]

a kiss shared during a game  ( truth or dare ,  spin the bottle ,  etc ) . // omg imagine them at a party & then it's truth or dare & niko gets asked to 'kiss the person he wants to kiss the most/is the most gorgeous.' & then he kisses chiyo & it's like !!!!

kiss & tell | @metrictita kisses chiyo because he wants to!

she'll never tell anyone this, but she's not really a fan of truth or dare.

chiyo might be in the minority, considering she isn't one to risk being tasked to do something truly outrageous, but she still plays because niko and their friends want to play, and she's nothing if not agreeable... some of the time, at least. she just wants to watch them laugh at each other, goad one another into ridiculous acts that she'll definitely never let them live down. she can handle being asked things like, " who would you kiss here? " if it means her friends have a good time, and she gets to make fun of them.

she answered, " no one, " by the way. a lie, naturally.

" alright, niko, " grins arata, clapping his hands together. " truth or dare? "

he picks dare.

" i dare you to... kiss the person you wanna kiss the most! "

chiyo stops paying attention, averting her eyes. it's embarrassing to watch anybody kiss, but most of all someone close to her like niko. she does wonder who he'll choose, then stops herself from wondering because why does it matter? it'll happen, they'll move on with the game, and then she'll forget about this dare by the end of the night.

niko's shoes come into her view, and her heart trips over itself. she keeps staring at them like they're going to side step and land in front of paige instead, but they don't. they don't, and she's panicking a little because... because why? because her best friend is about to kiss her? because that's so scary?

it is. it's scary because when she was asked who she'd kiss here, her honest answer would have been niko. and chiyo isn't quite sure what that means for her ( or maybe she knows, but she wants to pretend for just a little longer ).

she drowns in blue as niko gently tilts her face up to look at him; she's searching for an answer. why would he pick her, out of all the people here? he tugs her up and off the couch, and chiyo lets him. she can't be the most appealing option. some of their friends break out into ooh's when niko pulls her closer, a warm hand upon her waist. sure, he likes her just the way she is, handles her with the sort of care she's always craved from another person, but they're friends. he's leaning down, and chiyo isn't stopping him, still searching, heart hammering against her ribcage as he cups the back of her neck.

but maybe that's just it. they're friends, close friends, so maybe he'd rather kiss her than someone else who doesn't know him like her. that makes sense. it makes more sense than the tingle that works its way up chiyo's spine and into her scalp when niko finally kisses her. it makes more sense than rising on her tiptoes to gain a better angle, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt for leverage. it makes a hell of a lot more sense than the butterflies fluttering in her stomach when niko grips her a little tighter, still ever soft and slow as his lips move against hers, stealing the air from her lungs.

when niko pulls away but not out of her space, it's embarrassing how her lips follow after his for a second before chiyo realizes what she's doing. she opens her eyes and finds herself falling into pools of blue once again, more lost than she was before.

they're friends, but she'd never kiss a friend like that.

" ...are you guys secretly dating, or what? " arata teases, breaking the tension and reminding chiyo that she and niko are very much not alone. she scoffs, moving away from him and attempting to smile through the heavy feeling building up in her chest. she stuffs her hands in the pocket of her hoody and plops back onto the couch beside paige ( who, by the way, isn't hiding her grin very well at all ).

" what would the point of that be, arata? this isn't a tv show. " chiyo meets niko's eyes only to look away immediately. she can feel her cheeks growing warm. embarrassing. " let's just move on, alright? "

they move on with the game as requested. chiyo can't look niko in the eyes the rest of the night. she tries to not think about why.

[mement0--m0ri]

God fucking damn it Netflix. What the actual fuck my dude.

Guys, Netflix is going to make a modern day adaptation of Dorian Gray and they're making Basil and Dorian brothers

[limewatt]

i’m finally actually watching madoka and man i kinda love kyuubei. god this thing fucking sucks

[kerosene-saint]

me when being unnormal about show pony brought me many many friends literally crazy that 90% of the mutuals i have are because of that fated day where i was coerced into the kjrp by a friend i met on discord approximately a month before

[dol-dee]

Whitney mustve lost SO many erasers to Dee at this point lmao

[phantasieandmirare]

Just realized exactly which event kickstarted the majority of my mental health issues so that’s fun

[ducktapeal]

The Walrus v Fairy question really is a perfect example of the Internet Argument. I've been reading a bunch of posts on both sides and it's very clear that everyone is interpreting the question in a way that the other side finds ridiculous. And if you take the read of one person, it makes perfect sense why they'd think it was more/less surprising, and the question become more about agreeing with priors than the actual question being asked. Like, a lot of people saying the walrus is more surprising make comments to the effect of "how did a walrus walk all the way to my house" or "how did the walrus knock on the door". And for folks that think the fairy is more surprising, there's a lot of comments saying they assume the walrus was put there by someone. The question doesn't mention how the walrus/fairy got there, so someone reading it as saying that the walrus knocked is answering a fundamentally different question than the one where someone assumes that a person knocked and then like, hid, or whatever. Likewise, a lot of people on both sides talk about the number of assumptions that each creature's presence brings up. People who think the walrus is more surprising comment a lot saying that a fairy being there is just one fact, that fairies exist, and that the walrus being there involves a huge logistical chain at the very least. Where people who think the fairy is more surprising comment a lot saying that the walrus being there is one fact, that elaborate prank shows exist, where the fairy being there calls into question a lot of biology, as well as the massive and world-spanning coverup that would be necessary to keep fairies out of the public eye if they've been around so long, that it brings up a bunch of existential issues if not logistical ones. People are even disagreeing about the definition of the word "surprising". I saw two posts side-by-side, one basically saying "a huge animal on your doorstep is shocking" and the other saying "fairies existing is way less likely than a walrus being dropped off at my door". Two totally different (and accurate!) definitions of the word, one emphasizing the initial reaction, surprising like a jump scare, the other emphasizing the overall likelihood of fairies versus Mr. Beast's Epic Walrus Prank.

It's just a wonderful thing to watch a hill to die on being raised right before my eyes, and to see a new Airplane Treadmill be born.

[pretend-i-don-t-exist]

qijiuyuan where sy is yqy's disciple, and everyone believes that there is a love triangle involved

everyone in cang qiong knows that yqy is besotted with sqq! they've witnessed it since the qing generation were head disciples, and that devotion hasn't waned even after decades of cold rejection. the entirety of cang qiong knows that not even the threat of death would drive yqy away– in fact, he'd even offer his own sword for sqq to cut him down as he pleases. it's impossible for him to love another.

sy being taken in as yqy's disciple is a surprise. the lanky, wide-eyed boy was more fit for qing jing or an ding, not qiong ding's cold, political battlefield. still, they accept yqy's decision– his favoritism to sqq aside, he is an excellent sect leader. there must be a reason why sy is made a qiong ding disciple.

it becomes obvious, soon enough. sy is good with his words, although a little oblivious to the effect he has on the people around him. a warm ray of sunlight that focuses on nurturing and protecting rather than seeking power, one that can stand firmly and abide by his principles despite the machinations against him. it doesn't take long before sy has most of the sect wrapped around his finger.

he becomes qiong ding's head disciple. and then everything changes.

sy's admiration for his shizun isn't very subtle. waiting on yqy on hand and foot, making sure the food are his favorites, ensuring his comfort at meetings, listening to him, comforting him, and so on. at first, they thought nothing of it. most of them had a crush on yqy at some point in their lives. but then, yqy indulges his head disciple by giving him trinkets and sweets, when normally, his indulgent gift giving is limited to sqq and sqq alone.

oh no. cang qiong is unsure how they should feel about this turn of events. some are excited to see sqq fall from his high horse, losing the sect leader's favor. some are worried that there would be a bloodbath. some try to stay away from qing jing and qiong ding as much as possible, especially after sqq's radio silence.

it was an an ding disciple who discovered it first– that sqq has been leaving sy gifts of his own. extravagant and handmade gifts. paintings, literary works, calligraphy brushes, embroidered robes... and then someone says that they've witnessed sqq telling sy that he's always welcome on qing jing, should he find qiong ding lacking.

it starts off a chain reaction. now everyone is convinced that yqy likes sqq, but sqq likes sy, but sy likes yqy. yqy is trying to be nice to sy in hopes of gaining sqq's favor, but the qing jing peak lord only has eyes for his warmhearted disciple. said disciple hopelessly longs for yqy and remains gentle but impersonal with sqq.

in reality, yqy spends much time convincing the shens that he loves them both bc of his own heart and not bc of anything else. sqq is affronted that they think he dislikes yqy. have they not seen him accept yqy's embarrassing actions with only a grumble? have they not noticed that the sect leader's guan and robes are created by his very own hands? also, sy clearly reciprocates his feelings! he wouldn't have accepted sqq's gifts or be making labor-intensive sweets for him otherwise.

meanwhile, sy is wondering just what the heck is going on.

[azsazz]

Out of Order

Hockey!Azriel x Figure Skater!Reader

Summary: You're running late from practice and the women's showers are out of order. In your haste to make it to class, you utilize the men's locker room while they're on the ice, only to find out that their practice has been cut short as well...

Warnings: Smut (oral, m receiving). Steamy (haha, get it?).

Word Count: 3003

Notes: This would prob never happen but it’s my world and you’re all living in it 😏

Belongs to the Shut Out & Penance world

_________________________________________

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter, staring at the sign hanging over the showers in the women’s locker room. It reads Closed for Maintenance. You’ve completely forgotten that the showers weren’t going to be in working order this week. You hadn’t been paying too close attention when your figure skating coach told you about it before the weekend hit, still too stunned thinking about Azriel when you’d run into him on your way to where all the coaches’ offices are housed. 

It hasn’t been a great start to the week. Your alarm went off late, you spilled the horrible coffee you’d managed to make whilst brushing your teeth—no harm there—and you split your leggings after a tumble on the ice. Now, you’re going to be doubly late for class because Coach Vanserra had wanted to talk to you about your routine after practice.

And now this.

Clicking your phone on, you check the time. Yup. You only have fifteen minutes to make your way across campus to class, and you’ve only just stopped sweating from the vigorous run-throughs of the jump you fell on during practice this morning. Anything to get the routine perfect, even if it did mean receiving a few cutting glares from the hockey players who were loitering around for their own practice. The chain reaction of you being late meant that the Zamboni flooded the ice late which meant that hockey practice started late.

Late, late, late.

You would totally skip class too, if it weren’t the one that you were struggling the most in. The Teaching Assistant even allowed you to meet with her before class today to go over the outline of your mid-term, and you really need to do well on it.

“What do I do, what do I do?” you wonder aloud, staring at the bright neon sign. You don’t have enough time to make it home, but—you groan as the idea pops into your head. 

The men’s locker room.

There are showers in there. Ones that probably work, too. 

Fuck, you really don’t want to do this. 

But you have no choice, you’re not spending the day walking around classes a filthy mess or smelling like sweat.

You duck out the door with your things, your bag slung over your shoulder, towel draped over your arm. Your shoes are clutched in your free hand as you duck your head, walking faster. Passing the rink just to make sure the hockey team is still out on the ice, you exhale softly, only allowing yourself a fleeting look at sex on skates.

Azriel is fast. Probably one of the fastest forwards on the team. He slides across the arena with a grace that rivals your own, and you’re impressed. Maybe he’s taken a few figure skating classes of his own. If only you could ask.

Quickly, you make sure that the coast is clear before ducking into the men’s locker room. It doesn’t look much different from the women’s locker rooms, with added urinals. It’s muggy even though it’s early, from the male figure skaters taking showers of their own. There’s a lingering scent of stale sweat in the air that makes your nose wrinkle, but you can push through that if it means you get the shower you so desperately need.

You halt, listening for any noise. Nothing. The locker room is perfectly empty.

You hustle to the back of the room where the showers are located, claiming the one furthest from the door. If someone does come inside, they likely won’t take up the empty shower next to you. Something about bro code and urinals, Cassian once mentioned. You pray that it applies to showers, too.

The walls separating each shower come up to your shoulders, and there’s a pair of swinging doors that keep the area enclosed. The water pressure is incredible, much better than in the women’s showers, and you groan as you step under the hot spray. Your towel is hung on the rack, your bag the furthest from the water as you can manage without getting it wet or being seen by anyone that might come your way.

You scrub your hair quickly, and when you turn around to wash the shampoo out, your eyes connect with a very familiar—and very heated—pair of hazel ones.

Azriel.

Holy fuck, this can’t be happening right now. His dark hair is damp with sweat, clinging to his perfectly tan skin. He’s sans shirt, and when your gaze quickly flicks to below the door, notice that he’s not wearing any pants, either.

Your heart pounds in your chest. He’s not supposed to be in here. You’re not supposed to be in here.

“What are you doing in here?” You exclaim, voice pitching high with your nerves. You slap your arms across your chest, even though you know he’s gotten an eyeful of your breasts from his vantage point, way taller than where the doors end.

“What are you doing in here?” He bites back, and the roughness of his voice makes the warmth pounding against your back converge between your legs. Fuck, he’s so attractive. His throat works around a harsh swallow, and you have to clamp your legs together stifle the throbbing.

Azriel watches you shift on your feet uneasily. Tracks you with his dark gaze like you’re a trapped animal and he’s about to pounce.

You kind of like this look on him.

“The women’s showers are out of order and I’m late for class,” you hastily reply, cheeks burning bright. You don’t know why he’s in here or if the rest of the team is seconds from following, but you need to get the fuck out of here right now, go bury your head in your pillow and potentially never return to the ice rink ever again.

This is utterly humiliating.

Azriel opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, raucous laughter and crude jokes fill the space as the rest of the team enter the locker room. Your heart falls to the floor, swirling around with the soap that’s still running from your hair, and slipping down the drain.

Before you can protest, Azriel’s shoving himself inside of the stall with you, uncaring that you’re completely naked and shouldn’t be here. He presses himself up against you and you slip, but he’s righting you, pulling you into his chest where you can feel how very interested he is in this debacle.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You exclaim, and it’s hard to keep your voice from shouting frantically like you want to.

The air becomes a thousand times hotter. You can barely breathe with him pressed up against you like this, turning the both of you and hiding you from the view of his teammates. Your heart still races in your chest, both because your fucking crush is pressing his naked torso up against yours and with the fear that one of his teammates will take notice.

“It’s either I see you naked, or the entire team does,” he whispers, huskily. “And no way in hell am I letting that fucking happen.” He growls and something like pleasure skitters down your spine.

You swallow roughly, “Good call.”

“Practice ended early,” He tacks on, answering your previous question.

“I gathered,” you breathe, but it holds none of the heat that it normally does when you talk to any of the hockey players. Especially Cassian. “You were out there for like, five minutes,” you whisper-shout. You can feel how red your cheeks are, and while this may be mortifying, Azriel’s hard cock pressed into your stomach only adds to your already heightened emotions.

You wonder what he’d do if you got down on your knees right now.

“It’s been an hour,” he responds, and you hold your breath when the water of another shower turns on. Azriel drags you under the spray with him, making it look to his teammates that he’s showering instead of hiding the figure skater they’ve been arguing with for ice time all semester. “Coach wanted to keep us loose for the weekend. We’re supposed to change and watch film.”

Fuck, maybe you were staring for longer than you thought.

You can’t focus. Your entire mind needs rewiring because all you can think about right now is how Azriel’s bare skin is touching yours. How he towers over you, how he’s staring down at you with a heat that rivals a thousand wildfires. Actually, he’s staring a little south of your eyes, right at your—

“Hey,” you snap softly. Your arms are still tucked tightly over your chest, and you hope you’re not experiencing a nip-slip right now. “Eyes up here, asshole.”

Azriel’s smile nearly makes you slip.

“Can’t help myself,” he defends, and this is the most animated you’ve ever seen him. Out on the ice he’s all broody and serious, head strictly in the game. It’s hot, but this side of him, cheeky and smug, might even be hotter. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Can you feel how hard you make me, baby?”

Gods, if he doesn’t shut up right now, you’re probably going to do something you’ll regret later, like grab his hand and slide it right between your—

“Dude,” Cassian’s voice bellows and you duck closer into Azriel’s chest. Each ridge of his impressive muscles contract as he freezes up and despite your heart feeling like it’s about to pound out of your chest, you can admit that this is thrilling. The thought of being caught in here, surrounded by built hockey players, naked with Azriel, makes your core twist with pleasure. “Since when do you have a pink towel?”

You wince. Of course, he can see where the towel is hung on the rack, the dude is massive.

 Azriel lies easily, “Yeah, some chick left it over at my place and I brough it to return to her later.” It sounds like something he’s done before. A bite of jealousy hits you hot and harsh at the thought of him doing this with anyone else.

You clench your jaw, but as if he can feel the way you tense, his large hands come to rest on your hips, soothing across your skin. Fucking fuck.

“Used? Nice one, Azzy,” Cassian laughs and nothing more is said while he returns to his own shower.

Azriel eases slightly, the motion making his abs relax. You want to lean forward and lick over them, but now is nor the time nor the place.

You really need to get the fuck out of here.

There’s no way in hell that you’re going to make it to class, dammit.

You hear more showers turn on, and Azriel removes his hands from your hips to reach behind you for the soap you have on the shelf. You watch him as he squeezes some of the shampoo into his hands before scrubbing them through his black hair. He’s like a fucking dream come true, and his cock still hasn’t gone down from where it’s pinned between the both of you, only the thin fabric of his boxers keeping you and it from meeting.

A droplet of soap falls onto your face, and you flinch, but don’t move. You’re not sure if you can, because your limbs are seized up with nerves. You’re not sure you want to.

Azriel rinses his hands off, slowly bringing them to your face. He wipes the droplet away with his knuckle and the feeling goes straight to your core.

“Azriel,” you breathe, but are promptly interrupted for a second time.

“Hey, man.” It’s Rhys. “You ready to kick the Sea Lion’s asses this weekend?” The water turns on in the shower directly next to you and in your haste to shuffle closer to Azriel, your arm brushes up against his cock and his hands fly out, gripping you firmly to keep you from squirming.

Oh. He’s enjoying being in this shower with you as much as you are.

A smirk makes its way onto your face that makes Azriel’s glorious hazel eyes narrow in distrust.

Reaching carefully behind you, you snag the bottle of conditioner from the rack and press it softly into his hand. His brows furrow in confusion as he answers his team captain. “Yeah, dude, Tarquin and his team don’t stand a fucking chance.” He almost chokes when you slide down to your knees in front of him.

“Damn straight,” Rhys says, while Azriel pleads you with his eyes. You’re not sure if he wants you to stop or keep going, but you hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tug anyway.

His cock springs from its confines and the bottle in Azriel’s hand drops, ringing loudly against the floor.

“Shit,” he says, but it’s tight in his throat, like he can’t even get the words out. If someone catches on, he’s screwed.

He leans down to pick up the conditioner bottle and you frown as his cock is pulled from eye-level.

“What do you think you’re doing, pretty girl?”

You lean in close, sliding your hands up his muscular arms, enjoying the way his thick, dark eyelashes flutter under your touch. “Just enjoy, Azriel,” you whisper, your breath casting over his lips. He could grab you by the back of your head and tug you into the kiss he’s been wanting to since the first day you showed up at the rink, snarking at the team for going over their time. His cock jumps at the thought of those pursed lips wrapped around his cock. “And wash my hair while you’re at it.”

“Fuck,” he groans softly, but you pull away before he can rock into you and claim your mouth. He’s been crouched down for too long, anyway, so he rips himself from you, pushing to his feet.

“What do you think about Tarquin?” you hear Rhys ask, but you’re already reaching forward, taking Azriel in your hand. He jerks immediately and when you look up at him, he’s already shooting you an apologetic look, and then another that tells you he isn’t going to last very long.

You like the idea of that. Having this power over him.

He’s hard and smooth in your hand. You watch eagerly as a bead of precum drips from the tip, but it’s washed away by the water still cascading down his body, to your disappointment. If you’re going to be waterboarded, you’re thankful that this is how it’s going to go.

Azriel’s response is choked when you finally wrap your lips around the head of his cock, teasing his slit with the tip of your tongue. The flavor of him bursts on your tongue as another drop of precum follows, and you almost moan before remembering where you are. To keep the noise from coming out, you sink further onto his cock, cutting off your airflow.

“He’s good, but he’s no match for Bloodshed over there,” Azriel answers, and his hand falls to your head, fingers burying into your hair. You can feel the cold of the conditioner and if you weren’t enjoying yourself too much by bobbing your mouth up and down his cock, you’d be worried about the amount he’s using.

“Yeah,” Rhys says. “Their goalie is decent, but our offense is better.”

Azriel hums in response and his other hand finds your face, cupping it and guiding you just the way that he likes.

You take advantage of his help, lathing your tongue across any skin that you can find, reveling in the feeling of it all. Your legs are clenched so tightly together, your clit aching for release. You’re on edge, but you’re terrified of making any noise. You really can’t be found in the men’s locker room like this.  

“Dude…” Rhys trails off, and the suspicion in his voice makes you falter, but Azriel’s still guiding your head, trying not to fully say fuck it and jerk his cock as deep as he can go. “Are you fucking jacking off right now?”

“Yeah,” Az answers, because he doesn’t give a fuck anymore. He’s still going to protect you, but his hips are moving, his tip hitting the back of your throat but not pushing any further, so you don’t choke. “So, if you’d kindly fuck off, that’d be ace. We’ll talk at film. Tell coach I’ll be late.”

Rhysand’s answering chuckle rings throughout the stalls when he cuts the water from his shower. “Enough said, Az. You’re fucking sick, but I’m out.”

As soon as Rhysand’s out the door, Azriel’s picking up his pace, gasping out that he’s going to release and trying to pry you off his cock like the gentleman he is.

Too bad you want his cum in your mouth.

You curl your fingers into the meat of his thighs, urging him to stay inside.

“Fuck, baby, you’re fucking perfect,” he groans before he releases himself. He’s all heady and musky, and you swallow him greedily, not letting a single drop escape. Gods, you need to stop acting like this, but around Azriel, you can’t help yourself.

He helps you to your feet and ducks down to capture your lips in a heated, desperate kiss. Your hands find his hair, clutching to him as his tongue traces the seam of your lips, silently asking for permission. You grant it to him, and the kiss turns hot and needy, like he’s been wanting this for a long as you have.

You’re breathless when he pulls away, chest heaving, but your gaze stays locked on his, especially when he sinks to his own knees.

“What are you doing?” you pant, planting your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging deliciously into his skin.

“Returning the favor,” he says, like it’s the simplest answer in the world. He taps the inside of your tingling thighs. “Why do you think I told Rhys to tell coach that I’m going to be late? C’mon, pretty girl, open these legs for me.”

_________________________________________

Hockey!AU Tag (will be tagged for any hockey fic, no matter paring):

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks

[sleepypanda27]

Bucky's Crush

Bucky x reader

Summary: Sam is tired of Bucky not doing anything to get the girl he likes. So he helps out a bit.

Words: 710

Warnings: Cute and nervous Bucky

It was an early morning in the compound. Sam was telling Bucky some story of his adventures, but that turned into white noise when he saw you walking into the kitchen. Still in your pajama and unbrushed, messy hair. You walked to the mug cupboard and stretched, yawning.

"Want some coffee?" Bucky asked with a smile in his voice.

"Yes, please." You leaned against the kitchen island, watching Bucky intently as he made you coffee. Who knew that making coffee could be so sexy?

"Good morning, by the way." He said in a little raspy voice from sleep.

"Hi, good morning." You blushed, tucking hair behind your ear, and smiled awkwardly, hoping he didn't notice you staring at him.

"There you go." His eyes were locked with yours as he gave you a cup with steam coming from it.

"Thank you, Bucky." Inhaling the delicious scent, you thanked him.

"You're welcome, doll." He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter. Subtly, his eyes traveled up and down your body, making you blush again. You went back to your room, thinking you should try to blush less in Bucky's presence.

Bucky shook his head with a smile and looked at Sam, who was staring at him. "What?"

"Seriously?"

"What?" Bucky didn't understand what was his problem.

"I was talking to you, dude."

"I heard you."

"Okay then. What was the last thing you heard?"

"Ummm...that you like seeds and breadcrumbs." Bucky shrugged.

"Ugh, just ask her out already." Sam rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"I will..." Bucky looked into the hallway you went to just seconds ago. "Someday."

Sam had arranged a movie night, making you and Bucky sit together. It was all highly suspicious because you three were the only people there.

Bucky's musky cologne mixed with the faded scent of the leather jacket he had worn earlier, lingered on his hoodie. You had to fight against the urge to just melt into your seat.

He pretended to yawn, stretching his arms in the air, and placing his arm around your shoulders, gauging your reaction. Naturally, you moved closer to his side. He had to bite his cheeks to stop the smile from turning too big.

Sam bailed pretty early, knowing that if you two were left alone, you would feel more free and open up.

After a while, you stood up, and Bucky thought 'Well, this is it, he went too far too soon.' But you only took a blanket and then returned to your seat by his side. This time, snuggling even closer to him.

His mind reeled with all kinds of different thoughts. All of them included you. He wondered did he remembered how to kiss. Can you even forget something like that? Now, he went too far and was overthinking.

You could feel and hear his relentless heartbeat, or maybe it was yours you couldn't quite tell.

You couldn't take the tension anymore. You spun around so fast that you startled both of you. Placing your hand softly on his nape, you slowly leaned closer, giving him a chance to stop this, but instead, he closed the distance. As soon as your lips met, it was like he forgot all of his previous worries.

Bucky couldn't hide the smile anymore and he didn't want to. Feeling the dog tags around his neck, you wrapped the silver chain around your fingers, tugging him to you while lying back on the couch. Which he gladly followed.

After a while, Bucky pulled away from you, looking to the side, where Sam was slowly and carefully creeping to the place where he was sitting earlier.

Noticing that he's caught, Sam stopped. "Don't mind me, I just forgot my phone. He quickly run after the phone. "Carry on." He shot you both a smile and left.

Laughing, you hid your face in your palms from embarrassment. Bucky chuckled, gently taking your hands off your face. "You are so damn cute, doll."

Now you were blushing even harder.

Bucky turned off the TV and, easily picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your squeal turned into giggles. "Where are we going?"

"To my room." He smiled, "So we can watch the movie and make out without interruption."

[emmcfrxst]

I’m wondering how Laura would react if reader and OldMan!Logan got into a fight? Maybe they tried to keep it away from her but unfortunately the girls too much like her father and ends up hearing most of it.

Ugh and imagine if she saw Logan storming off not realizing that he left you in tears…

(I’m feeling extremely angsty tonight.)

TW: MENTIONS OF DEATH, TRAUMA, ILLNESS, UNHEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS, SUICIDAL IDEATIONS & GOD (I guess????) Set before Logan gets, as nonnie put it, chest-fucked, so during the period of time everyone’s trying to escape the fucking Reavers while figuring shit out. It got too long so it’s under the cut

You don’t argue that often with Logan— your relationship is solid and although communication was rocky at first, he’s made significant progress and is able to hold a serious conversation without immediately jumping back into his defense mechanisms (misguided anger, deflection and ultimately fleeing were his initial reactions when you tried establishing proper communication about feelings in the beginning). His progress, however, is rendered completely useless when the conversation is about his rapidly declining health; he’s immediately on the defensive, body going rigid and eyes going dark, jaw clenched so hard you’re afraid he might shatter it— he hates thinking about his newfound mortality, not necessarily because he’s afraid of death (it’s actually quite the opposite, he seeks death in a way, longing for the pain and the nightmares to just stop once and for all) but because he knows that dying means leaving you on your own and that’s something he can’t bear to think about— the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you is immeasurable; it overwhelms him entirely because he knows that losing him would break you and it makes him feel physically ill to think about the consequences. So in true Logan fashion, he blows you off whenever you bring up your concerns, stating that he’s fine, and the anger he feels at himself and his body for failing him ends up being taken out on you through biting words he regrets as soon as they slip from his tongue.

“I’m the one who’s fuckin’ dying, for Christ’s sake, quit your fuckin’ yapping.” It’s a phrase he regrets uttering for multiple reasons: he hates being rude to you in any way, shape or form because you’re the last person who deserves to be subjected to his emotional constipation— you’ve taken all of his broken parts into your hands and pieced them back together with your unconditional love and unwavering patience, you’ve made him feel loved, you’ve made him feel alive, and most importantly, you’ve shown him that he doesn’t have to feel guilty or bitter about his existence. You’ve done so much for him throughout the years and he fucking hates himself for letting his emotions get the better of him like that. The other thing that bothers him deeply about his reaction is the verbal acknowledgment of his condition; it’s something that he somehow believes can be ignored, as if denying it could make it any less real. Acknowledging that he’s dying makes bile rise up his throat— it’s a bitter feeling, really, because he used to wish for death everyday before he met you, heart and mind torn to shreds from years of horrific abuse and unwavering violence; he even prayed to whatever God was out there, despite not being a believer, to just let him go, to free him of the chains of trauma that bound his psyche. His prayers were left unanswered, Logan only accumulating more trauma as the years went by— he can’t count how many times he’s cursed God for making him go through what he’s gone through, needing someone to blame and wishing for a way to end it all. Ironically, Logan’s immortality only seems to waver once he starts treasuring life; it feels like a stab in the back, a cruel joke orchestrated by God who finally decided to answer his prayers now that he wishes he could take them back. The feeling of betrayal only seems to further fuel Logan’s anger towards his illness, which, combined with the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you alone, causes him to act out whenever you bring up the subject. You take offense in the words thrown at you, hurt by the reminder of his impending death and the way he navigates it, arguing back that you do this because you care about him, for fuck’s sake. Unfortunately, that only seems to make things worse, upsetting Logan further and bringing back years’ worth of feeling unworthy of your affections.

“That’s your fuckin’ problem bub. I told ya you shouldn’t waste your time with a man like me.” he physically winces as he utters those words, wishing he could unsee the way it makes your entire face crumble with despair— it’s a slap in the face, really, to be brought back to square one and have him reject you in this way. Logan flees before either of you can say anything else, slamming the front door behind him and walking in no particular direction until he feels like he can finally breathe again, leaving you in tears at home. Laura, although playing in her makeshift room at the time, hears the whole exchange as clear as day due to her enhanced senses, her fists clenching with rage when her ears pick up the sound of your stifled sobs. You feel her before you even hear her, your body tensing as a pair of small, skinny arms wrap around your middle, a head resting along your spine. After the initial alarm of feeling someone touching you, you can’t help but let out a watery laugh at just how easy it seemed for her to surprise you, turning around in Laura’s arms so you can look down at her. A frown is etched onto her features, lips puckered into an angry pout as she hugs you tighter, insulting Logan in spanish under her breath. It makes you laugh again, this time softly, your hand smoothing out her hair as you sniffle.

“I’m okay, Laura. I’m okay.” she glares up at you, unconvinced, giving you another squeeze and reluctantly allowing her features to relax when you gently run a fingertip across the furrow of her brows— despite not being together for long, you find that you’re able to soothe Laura quite easily; there is a connection between the two of you like you’ve never felt before, a bond that you feel like you were always destined to have. Your heart warms at the obvious way the child seems to care for you, wanting nothing more than to make all of her worries disappear.

“He made you cry.” her voice is so quiet that you almost miss it, a soft, indignant noise leaving her at the sight of your tear-stained cheeks. You sniffle again, free hand moving up to wipe at your eyes, the other caressing her hair lovingly.

“I know.” you don’t say that it’s okay because it’s not— Logan crossed a line that you thought had been worn down ages ago, and you’ll be damned before you ever teach Laura that hurtful words can be brushed aside so easily without an apology. It’s for her as much as for you; you’re aware that you deserve respect even when Logan is upset, and you’re not about to stomp down on your self-worth to coddle him when he’s done something wrong. He’ll apologize, you’re sure of it, but until that happens, you’re not going to pretend that his reaction was acceptable. It’s something you categorically refuse to do, and it’s one of the many reasons Logan fell in love with you in the first place. You know your worth.

“I’ll be okay soon.” you tell her honestly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She studies you for a moment longer before nodding her head, allowing you to lead her onto the couch where she curls up next to you.

You’re asleep by the time Logan starts walking back towards the house but Laura hears the crunching of sand and gravel under his shoes, quietly untangling herself from you and moving to the side of the door, frown back on her features. Logan barely has the time to pass the threshold before she’s on him, jumping onto his back like a feral animal and punching his shoulders repeatedly, growling when he grabs her and holds her still, visibly confused and irritated by her behavior.

“Don’t even think about it.” he warns her when she makes to bite the hand that holds her down, frowning down at her just as hard she does up to him. She struggles in his hold, trying to hit him again, making him grunt in pain.

“You made her cry, coño.” the words make Logan freeze in his tracks, eyes falling on your sleeping form on the couch, noting the way your eyes look reddened and the tear tracks on your cheeks. Nausea immediately strikes him like lightning, the expression on his face seeming to satisfy Laura as she stops struggling, frown still evident on her face. She sits up and watches silently once he lets her go, staying nearby to see the situation unfold.

You awake to a calloused hand gently running over the plane of your cheekbone, eyes opening to meet Logan’s remorseful ones. He’s sitting on the ground next to the couch, looming over you in a way that makes you feel safe like no one else ever could.

“Hey.” his voice is hoarse but soft, thumb swiping back and forth over your skin in a silent act of comfort. It makes you smile despite your grogginess, and you feel more than you hear Logan releasing a soft, relieved inhale through his nose.

“Hey.” you answer him just as softly, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes again, content to feel him again.

“I’m sorry.” the words sound heavy coming out of his mouth, a grim expression taking over his features as he wipes off the remnants of your earlier tears.

“I know.” you reply simply, turning your head to press a gentle kiss against the roughened palm of his hand. It makes him exhale shakily, shoulders squaring as he prepares himself for the discomfort of the following words.

“Didn’t mean to snap at you, baby. I just… I feel helpless, I guess, and it fuckin’ pisses me off. Never had to worry about dying and leaving you alone before.” he says the words slowly, trying to make the last sentence sound like a joke, tone falling flat. You can tell he’s uncomfortable with the discussion but he pushes through, causing you to feel a rush of sympathy— he’s trying, you know he’s trying, and that means something to you.

“I know. I feel helpless, too. But you have to remember that you’re not alone. Not anymore. And I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens, it’s you and me until the end.” he laughs wetly at your words, nodding his head and swallowing thickly before speaking again.

“I know.” this time it’s his turn to provide reassurance, the two little words more than enough for the both of you. The feeling of his warm lips connecting with your forehead makes your eyes flutter shut, hand coming up to lay over the one he’s curled around the back of your neck.

“Kid’s kicked my ass for making you cry.” he mumbles against your skin, the amusement in his voice clear. It makes you snort in surprise, unaware that Laura had intervened before you woke up.

“Did she? Well, you kinda deserved it.” your answer is playful, tone devoid of its previous heaviness, your eyes meeting Laura’s over Logan’s shoulder for a brief moment before focusing on your lover once again.

“That I did.” he agrees simply, a soft, tender, apologetic smile on his face. You lean further into him when he kisses your nose, heart feeling lighter than it had in a while.

You were going to be okay.

[tvrningout-a]

"ya know . . . " his head had been leaning on her shoulder, comfortably laying on the futon that took up most of his living room. a snoring orange cat laid next to chiyo whilst something rather uninteresting played on the tv before them. " i like you the way you are. " a pause, deep breath taken as his head rose once more. "big nerds gotta stay together, right?" he was not great with feelings. emotions. but he saw how she changed — the slight shift in tone or behavior. it reminded him of himself whilst still living under his parents' claws. "so, don't cha dare change, got it?" cue a very light flick to her forehead. // for chiyo hehehehehehe

unprompted | @metrictita healed chiyo's heart!

she often feels as if she's not doing enough. even when she's trying, on days like this when she finishes her work, and she makes time to be with someone who cares about her at a normal hour, there's still a voice at the back of her mind that tells her it isn't enough. she needs to be more engaging even if she's tired, or maybe she needs to tone it down when she's excited. she needs to suggest some kind of activity rather than a hang out, or she needs to be more conscious of both their budgets. oh, it never ends; her mind runs and runs, and before she realizes it, she isn't quite herself anymore.

it takes some work getting herself back.

in this moment, though, her mind is a little quieter. chiyo absentmindedly pets the cat beside her, and being so close to niko, able to soak up some of his warmth, feel the comforting weight of his head upon her shoulder -- it all quiets that pesky voice, allows chiyo a little peace. she's happy to simply be. it's such a mundane scene with some mediocre show playing and two people wasting their time watching it, but she's happy.

then niko moves, starts with, " ya know... " and the voice speaks a little louder, prepping to speculate what she can do better, what she's doing wrong. it's exhausting, and she tries to stop, but it's hard. it's always been hard.

" i like you the way you are. big nerds gotta stay together, right? "

chiyo stares. she stops petting his cat. that's not at all what she expected, and she can't hide her surprise, the way her throat feels a little tighter, nor the way her poor heart heaves a sigh of relief ( how long i've been waiting to hear that, and you said it just now! you said it, and you actually meant it! that's so unexpected -- so delightfully, wonderfully unexpected! ).

but she can give a poor excuse for the way her eyes tear up. niko tells her not to change, and chiyo complains he flicked her too hard, enough to bring a tear or two to her eyes. it's an obvious lie, but maybe he'll let her have it this one time.

" i promise i won't change, " chiyo assures him, looking away as a shy smile stretches across her lips. she tries to take a teasing tone. " but remember this when i get annoying. you asked for it, niko. no take backs--- " she makes eye contact then, her smile a little less shy as she pokes at his forehead. her eyes still look a little glassy. " and no changing on me, either, got it? i like you, too, ya dork. "

that voice doesn't say another peep that day. not a single word.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Hybrid Town (3) | Only Human

Part One, Two

Before your fateful encounter that led to the attention of your loyal canine neighbors and the adoring affection of cow-woman- Eudora you were left to your own devices. Managing your own chores and the sprucing up of your newly inherited property. But it’s exhausting working day in and out on such a big project; it’s a given that you search for something else to do. Something to keep the loneliness at bay as you endure the sneers and snickers from the townspeople. Specifically found in one of the most abandoned spots of the whole town the library. 

Ring Ring

“Hello is anyone in here?....Well if you are I’m just going to find what I need and check it out at the desk!”

Typically this would seem presumptuous for anyone to do but you had a sneaking suspicion your human status might have something to do with the missing librarian. Nonetheless, you did what you said grabbing a small amount and writing on the ledger conveniently left on the desk. Filling it out hoping that whoever was responsible for the neatly kept interior within the run-down library would realize you’d taken the initiative to borrow. Unbeknownst to you igniting a chain reaction for those who bear witness.

“Did they…take a book?”

“T-t-they took four!”

“Oh, goodness!?”

Now there were quite a few curious souls that looked at you without contempt as they spied on you flipping through your latest borrows as you made your way to your car but none as eager as the librarian himself. It wasn’t bizarre that someone would come into the library to borrow a book…what was odd was that a newcomer had come for it and had full intentions to return.

“I-it’’s them!?? They’re coming back!”

“Eeek I’ll have to hide!”

Ring Ring

“If anyone’s here I’ll just do what I did last time.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you see some kind of appendage but when you turn to follow you find nothing but another row of books. Still oblivious to the hybrid practically gone into heat at the close encounter, they watch you leave once again.

“They nearly saw my tail!”

“T-that has to mean s-s-something good, right?”

 The few citizens of the town who frequented the library considered themselves to be of a different variety than the plebians rest of the town. A more enlightened group that relied on their vast collection of books to inform their decisions. All led by the very man given the honor to run the library.

“All rise for the great Stein!”

“Rest your heads, my enlightened followers a great happening has come upon us and I have our next course of action.”

By day the librarian was the soft-spoken, always flustered snake hybrid—Stein. Hired by the mayor to watch over the library in a building slowly violating the regulations of the up-to-code buildings surrounding it. It was the perfect place for the alarming presence of a snake hybrid feared for their notorious predatory instinct. Hidden, secluded, and generally avoided by the greater part of the town. Even those with a predator heritage were wary of the reptilian hybrid that is if they didn’t know him for the timid, stuttering librarian he appeared to be is.

“I-i-i’m the librarian w-w-w-what do you need help with?”

“Wow happy to finally meet you this time! Anyway I was wondering if you had the sequel to this book? I tried looking for it but I just can’t seem to find it.”

“T-t-t-that’s f-f-f-fine come with me.”

By night, Stein would become the leader that the minority of the town gathered around. Eagerly awaiting his knowledgable word. On an unrelated note, the town’s collection of books has a larger collection of the fictional genre influencing those curious enough to explore. With so much information they only found it right to turn to the hybrid tasked with understanding it all, seeing as no one other than Stein had attempted to learn from the non-fiction section…that is until you.

“My lord what does this mean!?”

“Shall we stake them?!”

“Ritualize them?!”

“Entice them to join!?

“Enlightened, please! Quiet your questions for I have the answer to all of them. The human is our Excalibur!”

Gasps fill the library basement.

“Can this be?”

“As the legend foretells whosoever should hold Excalibur shall hold the keys to the kingdom!” 

“That must be you our great lord Stein! You are the Arthur!”

“I should hope so.” 

“With this knowledge, we can work together to bring Excalibur to you!”

“But we must be cautious! The others of the round table before they become friends will be enemies!” 

“We must begin planning immediately!”

Stein isn’t delusional or an idiot or easily swayed by any means. He’s well aware that the stories of Welsh folklore are obviously not real at least not in this time. He went to school, a private school that accelerated his learning and then he went to a university where he proceeded to get his doctorate. But the bored and uninspired superstitious minority of the town did not. If that wasn’t enough to convince these other hybrids to follow, the fact that his particular origins were that of the venomous Black Mamba with a mix of Boa Constrictor. They were right to be afraid he happened to have both killer traits of his feared parents, it’s a given many insolent prey will rationalize that the one they fear the most must know the truth.

“(Y-y/n) good to see you, checking out the prequels?”

“You know it. I also wanted to know if you had recommendations for building doggy doors?”

“...I might have something…are you thinking of getting a dog?”

“Not necessarily but I’ve got a hole in my door and I think if I try and fix it it’ll just keep happening.”

“Say it! Ask my lord!”

“What was that?”

“I-i-uh I’m not very good with fixing things b-b-but if you like I could take a look…if you like?”

“That’s real sweet of you Stein, I appreciate that!” 

“The steps to procuring Excalibur commences!”

“Shh!”

He figures if he’s happening to start a cult, he might as well get help in his love-life. It might have been foolish to proclaim a poor outcast human the most prized object that this collective could agree upon but knowing the lengths his followers would go to he’d rather you be something adored than hated. Especially since the control he had on the collective wasn’t as straightforward as he had hoped.

“See my lord we’ve brought you the enemy!”

“Mmmffff.”

“Oh my.”

“It will be your first of many meals—I mean sacrifices in your pursuit of the grand Excalibur.”

“I–yes that is the plan.”

“Now eat! This is just fodder for the great Stein! Oh the grand ruler you’ll be!”

“EAT!” “EAT!” “EAT!” “EAT!”

Stein swallows a tired sigh, ‘a wolf hybrid is gonna be so fattening.’

“For your information my lord, he broke the wheels of Excalibur’s wagon–forcing them to buy their overpriced replacements.”

“...I’ll need salt.”

“Yes, my lord!”

When he’s not playing up to the dastardly cult leader he gets to be at night he’s all so shy. It’s hard trying to connect with the human he’s got such a big crush on especially since their outcasted status was beginning to change. Unknowingly harming him, his collective was being much nicer—complimenting you and standing up for you when you have encounters with human-hating citizens. He’s happy for you but he curses the loss he used to have with speaking to you. Now instead of his well-planned bump-ins with you on the way to the market he’ll have to spend more of his evening following far behind. And that’s when your neighbors and roommate aren’t getting in the way

“Don’t argue with me, Mutt I know you did that on purpose!”

“Please, no one told you to where those dumb shoes to a market day!”

“Yeah well appearance is every–”

“...” “...”

“Mutt go get (Y/n), I smell danger.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

It’s so shattering for him to constantly be overshadowed by every interested citizen in town. It’s almost enough to make him give up hope but the remaining thing that ties him to you is his saving grace. 

“W-what if we made a book-club, you and I?”

“I don’t think anyone would want to join. Not with me in it…”

“Mmm–”

“But I’d love to talk about books with you! Over drinks or at my house if that’s better!”

“T-t-t-that’s perfect!”

If he could get past his fears he’s sure he’d be a force to be reckoned with but he’d much rather go the way he’s going now. He often receives letters about how his mother kept his father close to the nest at the beginning of their relationship. And since she seems to believe he can do even better with a mere human, he’d love if it was all organic minus the cults help.

“I feel like I'm on fire knowing such a holy existence is so close to me. I’m going to take full advantage of this. You are just a human it might be better that it’s me you end up with, especially in this town.”

Part 4: Coming Soon

Taglist: @midnight-nightmares@xrenka@candlesworlds-blog@00hellohello00@lem-hhn @kawaii-cakes @ceramic-raven @lilyalone @asleepysouluniverse @mel-vaz @sxftiebee @staarflowerr @horror-lover-69 @stanfordswifey @butratherbutrather