#Santa Claus knows about their love for each other

[maiqua]

I was thinking about Sora's interaction with Santa Claus where Sora is asking him if he knew where he could find Riku. The moment in general is super duper sweet and cute but while thinking about it a thought struck me.

Santa Claus is telling Sora to believe in Riku and that really stood out to me. It instantly reminded me of the Beast's Castle's Short Story.

Even though Sora still doesn't really get love yet he is realizing the power to believe in someone is to love them.

Santa Claus was literally telling Sora If he loves Riku he will find him.

[aethersea]

another thing fantasy writers should keep track of is how much of their worldbuilding is aesthetic-based. it's not unlike the sci-fi hardness scale, which measures how closely a story holds to known, real principles of science. The Martian is extremely hard sci-fi, with nearly every detail being grounded in realistic fact as we know it; Star Trek is extremely soft sci-fi, with a vaguely plausible "space travel and no resource scarcity" premise used as a foundation for the wildest ideas the writers' room could come up with. and much as Star Trek fuckin rules, there's nothing wrong with aesthetic-based fantasy worldbuilding!

(sidenote we're not calling this 'soft fantasy' bc there's already a hard/soft divide in fantasy: hard magic follows consistent rules, like "earthbenders can always and only bend earth", and soft magic follows vague rules that often just ~feel right~, like the Force. this frankly kinda maps, but I'm not talking about just the magic, I'm talking about the worldbuilding as a whole.

actually for the purposes of this post we're calling it grounded vs airy fantasy, bc that's succinct and sounds cool.)

a great example of grounded fantasy is Dungeon Meshi: the dungeon ecosystem is meticulously thought out, the plot is driven by the very realistic need to eat well while adventuring, the story touches on both social and psychological effects of the whole 'no one dies forever down here' situation, the list goes on. the worldbuilding wants to be engaged with on a mechanical level and it rewards that engagement.

deliberately airy fantasy is less common, because in a funny way it's much harder to do. people tend to like explanations. it takes skill to pull off "the world is this way because I said so." Narnia manages: these kids fall into a magic world through the back of a wardrobe, befriend talking beavers who drink tea, get weapons from Santa Claus, dance with Bacchus and his maenads, and sail to the edge of the world, without ever breaking suspension of disbelief. it works because every new thing that happens fits the vibes. it's all just vibes! engaging with the worldbuilding on a mechanical level wouldn't just be futile, it'd be missing the point entirely.

the reason I started off calling this aesthetic-based is that an airy story will usually lean hard on an existing aesthetic, ideally one that's widely known by the target audience. Lewis was drawing on fables, fairy tales, myths, children's stories, and the vague idea of ~medieval europe~ that is to this day our most generic fantasy setting. when a prince falls in love with a fallen star, when there are giants who welcome lost children warmly and fatten them up for the feast, it all fits because these are things we'd expect to find in this story. none of this jars against what we've already seen.

and the point of it is to be wondrous and whimsical, to set the tone for the story Lewis wants to tell. and it does a great job! the airy worldbuilding serves the purposes of the story, and it's no less elegant than Ryōko Kui's elaborately grounded dungeon. neither kind of worldbuilding is better than the other.

however.

you do have to know which one you're doing.

the whole reason I'm writing this is that I saw yet another long, entertaining post dragging GRRM for absolute filth. asoiaf is a fun one because on some axes it's pretty grounded (political fuck-around-and-find-out, rumors spread farther than fact, fastest way to lose a war is to let your people starve, etc), but on others it's entirely airy (some people have magic Just Cause, the various peoples are each based on an aesthetic/stereotype/cliché with no real thought to how they influence each other as neighbors, the super-long seasons have no effect on ecology, etc).

and again! none of this is actually bad! (well ok some of those stereotypes are quite bigoted. but other than that this isn't bad.) there's nothing wrong with the season thing being there to highlight how the nobles are focused on short-sighted wars for power instead of storing up resources for the extremely dangerous and inevitable winter, that's a nice allegory, and the looming threat of many harsh years set the narrative tone. and you can always mix and match airy and grounded worldbuilding – everyone does it, frankly it's a necessity, because sooner or later the answer to every worldbuilding question is "because the author wanted it to be that way." the only completely grounded writing is nonfiction.

the problem is when you pretend that your entirely airy worldbuilding is actually super duper grounded. like, for instance, claiming that your vibes-based depiction of Medieval Europe (Gritty Edition) is completely historical, and then never even showing anyone spinning. or sniffing dismissively at Tolkien for not detailing Aragorn's tax policy, and then never addressing how a pre-industrial grain-based agricultural society is going years without harvesting any crops. (stored grain goes bad! you can't even mouse-proof your silos, how are you going to deal with mold?) and the list goes on.

the man went up on national television and invited us to engage with his worldbuilding mechanically, and then if you actually do that, it shatters like spun sugar under the pressure. doesn't he realize that's not the part of the story that's load-bearing! he should've directed our focus to the political machinations and extensive trope deconstruction, not the handwavey bit.

point is, as a fantasy writer there will always be some amount of your worldbuilding that boils down to 'because I said so,' and there's nothing wrong with that. nor is there anything wrong with making that your whole thing – airy worldbuilding can be beautiful and inspiring. but you have to be aware of what you're doing, because if you ask your readers to engage with the worldbuilding in gritty mechanical detail, you had better have some actual mechanics to show them.

[hvaneyflowers]

First love... and the only. ***********

Lewis Hamilton x femreader! single mother!

You took your little son to meet Santa Claus and accidentally ran into your ex-boyfriend, Lewis Hamilton.

You and Lewis were together for three months during your high school time. You broke up after he started to get more serious with his racing career, and you decided that it didn't go with the lifestyle you had planned for you.

So you went to college and met a new guy, while he became a seven-time world champion. You got married and had a beautiful son, but your husband cheated on you with his secretary and left without saying goodbye. So now, you were a single mother of a toddler named Lucas. You were happy with your life. Being a mother was the best thing that had happened to you, but, deep inside you still miss Lewis. Every time you see him in the news you wonder how life would have become if you two were still together. Maybe you'd have the family you always dreamed about.

Little did you know, was that Lewis still misses you, too. He was engaged to his girlfriend of 7 seven years, Nicole, but never found the same happiness as he had when he was with you. He always thought about you and what had been life for you. He found your Instagram and found that you had a son, so you must be married. It hurt to see you with another man, but he knew he couldn't complain because it was you who decided to put a stop to your relationship.

Indeed, it was you who broke up with him. You were young and you were scared of the life he had planned for him. Becoming an F1 driver and a world champion. It sounded fantastic a first, but you immediately realized that it wasn't for you. Or that was what you wanted to think. You were scared of the fame he would have. All the people around you didn't stop telling you how he would cheat and leave you for a supermodel, or how he would be at parties every weekend and fall out of love with you. You didn't want to get hurt so you decided to break up with him.

Now you were with your little one waiting to meet Santa at the same place where Lewis was doing his Christmas shopping with the dog that would catch your son's attention.

******

yourusername

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yourusername: we met Santa! 🎅

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*******

"Come on, my love. We're going for a piece of chocolate cake!" you told your little son.

"Pup!" your one-year-old screamed enthusiastically as he saw a dog walking near him. He let go of your hand and ran fast to the dog.

"Lucas! What have I told you? Never let go of mommy's hand when we are outside with a lot of people." you scolded him, putting on your knees to be his height.

"sowee, mommy. But pup!" he said pointing to the dog again.

"Be good to him, okay?" you warned him.

"y/n? y/n l/n?" someone asked behind you.

You frowned your eyebrows as you listened to your name. That voice. You could swear you've heard that voice somewhere. Maybe on TV or the radio. But who was its owner? You turned around slowly only to find your high school sweetheart. Lewis Hamilton.

"Lewis," you whispered in shock.

In front of you was the seven-time world champion of Formula 1, Lewis Hamilton, or as you used to call him, "my love". He looked just as surprised as you. You had never seen each other again since your graduation more than 15 years ago. He looked so handsome. Age has been good to him.

"Pup!" your son's voice got you out of your thoughts.

"His name is Roscoe. Roscoe, say "hi" to our new friend," he kneeled down, petting his dog.

"Say "hi" to Roscoe, Lucas. Be gentle, baby," you told your son, doing the same as Lewis.

Lewis looked at you as you were speaking to your little son. You looked as beautiful as you were the last time he saw you 15 years ago. He was still in love with you. He quickly took a look at your hand. You weren't wearing a marriage band, so you must be single. Maybe he can try to be with you once again. He won't let you go again. Not this time.

"Do you want to drink coffee with me?" he asked you without warning.

You looked at him in disbelief. You wanted to cry. Memories came through your mind, remembering how much you still loved him.

"Yes!" your son answered, running to Lewis. He laughed and hugged him.

"Do you want some hot chocolate, buddy?" he asked him.

"Yep" the little kid answered.

"And you, y/n?" he asked you. You looked him in his eyes, and you could swear he was almost begging with them.

"Yes, I would like it." you finally answered with a little smile.

"Fantastic! For the good old times." he smiled.

You went to a cafe outside the mall. Lucas was so happy to be there with Roscoe. They were best friends already. You sat in front of Lewis. You were nervous, like when you were a teenager on your first date.

"And... How are you? Long time no see." you broke the ice.

"Good. Everything's been good," he said.

"That's fantastic." You smiled.

"And you? You're a mother now. That's wonderful," he smiled, pointing to the toddler hugging his dog. Poor dog, you thought.

"Yes. His name is Lucas, and he's almost two. The best thing that could have happened to me. He's everything to me. My true love," you smiled, seeing your son.

"He's so cute, and I believe you're an amazing mother." he smiled at you.

"Thank you. I try my best." you laughed a little. You had missed this the most. The softness of being around him. His smile and laugh. God, you miss him a lot.

"And your husband?" he asked. Your smile faded down.

"I'm divorced. He left me for another girl. Much younger than me. We filled up the papers, and he left. He never came back, and Lucas doesn't know him and doesn't have his last name. It's only me and him." you told him staring at your coffee mug.

"He sounds like a jerk," he said, a little angry.

"He is," you laughed.

"I miss you," he confessed after a short silence.

You looked at him in surprise. He misses you like you miss him. Your eyes were full of tears. You wanted to cry. So many emotions and memories.

"Don't cry. I didn't tell you that for you to cry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. My fault." he tried to calm you down.

"It's not that. I just... I miss you, too. A lot." you confessed.

He smiled, and so did you. He rubbed your cheek with his hands and leaned to kiss you. You kiss slowly, not wanting to waste any feeling of it. You both had waited for that moment for so long. It felt unreal. When you pulled apart, your son was looking at you with curious eyes.

"Mommy?" he asked you.

"Hi, baby," you laughed at his cute angry face.

"Did you like your hot chocolate, buddy?" Lewis asked.

"No buddy," your son said, without looking at him.

You both laughed at your little son and spent the rest of the day talking about each other, enjoying your company. In the next few days, you were still in contact, and Lewis invited you and Lucas to spend Christmas with him. An invitation you didn't reject.

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and 500.000 more.

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: Roscoe made a new friend at the mall, and I found the love of my life. Meet my first love and the only one, y/n. Love you, babe!❤️

view all 400 comments.

username2: WHAT?!

username8: DID YOU HAVE A KID AND DIDN'T TELL US?!

username0: I think that is his new girlfriend's kid.

username9: Roscoe looking good as always!

username3: Congrats! She's so beautiful. Sending love!

georgerussell63: I HAVE A BABY BROTHER!

landonorris: you meant Roscoe has a baby brother. You're more like an uncle. georgerussell63: I'm not so old! mickschumacher: if we're talking about ages, well, we should mention Fernando. He's the oldest. landonorris: Omg, yes! He gives vibes of being the grandfather! georgerussell63: So it's like this: Me: the (favorite) uncle. Lando: the second uncle. Mick: the third uncle. Fernando and Toto: the grandparents. I like it. landonorris: me too. mickschumacher: 👍 fernandoalo_oficial: what?

username83: LEWIS IS NOT SINGLE ANYMORE! I REPEAT: LEWIS HAMILTON IS NOT SINGLE ANYMORE!

username98: she's so beautiful! Congrats! I hope you're very happy with her!

username76: YOU'RE A DADDY NOW!

username4: that kid doesn't know who he has as a stepdaddy. SO LUCKY!

yourusername: ❤️

yourusername

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tagged: lewis hamilton

yourusername: I've always loved you❤️

lewis hamilton: ❤️

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[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Living with Alfie Solomons

Warnings: Fluff, angst, references to religion and violence.

Domestic Alfie Headcanons

Alfie owns many different properties all over London and Margate. To your shock, only two were in Camden. One was what you could only describe as a “bachelor’s apartment,” which strongly resembled his office with the addition of a lumpy mattress. He took you to see what he considers his “home,” a one-story brick house surrounded by the lush green of the English countryside. Alfie had built this home after deciding, “Me and stairs, right, we ain’t made for each other.” The home also comes with a sweet little guesthouse behind it for his mother to live in. At which point he had a short rant about how his aging mother refuses to move in and still lives in her tiny flat in Camden. 

When he’s not being a “baker,” he does like to do some baking. Real baking. Bread, pudding, cake, pies, you name it. He likes having to measure his ingredients, put on the perfect temperature for the perfect amount of time. He likes to collect cookbooks too, and will have a gleam of almost childlike delight when he finds one he doesn’t already possess. 

Alfie has a tendency to develop very strong interest in a very specific thing and then drop it months later. He retains all he’s learned from it, but it can be a bit annoying as he will fill the house with his latest obsession. A short list of obsessions he’s developed are: American cowboys, jewelry making, stamps, coin collecting, eastern meditation practices, and Italian opera. 

You had to get used to his slight OCD involving things in his home. Everything has a place, and he gets very grumpy if you move something, a spoon for instance, and he can’t immediately find it. 

Children in the neighborhood are equal parts frightened and delighted by Alfie. They think he’s funny but intimidating. He gives out money and gifts to the Jewish families of Camden, and the children know that. Your dear man will huff and puff about the kids bothering him… but also throw them a coin or a sweet when he’s in the mood. Alfie is sort of like Santa Claus and the Boogeyman at the same time to them. After you started living with him, these children started to follow you around the neighborhood to ask questions about him. Some are quite tame, like “Does Mr. Solomons like cake?” or “Is Mr. Solomons your husband? Will you have lots of children?” while others are, “Did Mr. Solomons kidnap you?”

Relationship Headcanons

Mr. Solomons is quiet in his moments of romance with you. He likes to cup your cheek in his palm and touch his forehead to yours. Trace your face with his thumb as if to memorize it by touch. He places slow kisses on your cheeks and lips, gentle and almost reverent. His world is very brutal and without loyalty, you become his sanctuary. He sleeps best with you in his arms or laying directly on top of him. If you need to get up for any reason, expect a lot of complaining in at least three different languages from Alfie. He hates to be left alone in bed now that he’s had you. 

Thomas Shelby had no idea Alfie was married, until Alfie felt like telling him. Tommy now knows far too much about you. And you know far too much about Thomas Shelby. The first time you meet in person is very awkward.

Alfie is the sort of person that likes quality time and good conversation. He likes to go on strolls with you on the beach of Margate when his knee isn’t too painful. Going to the museum or a library are all tip-top dates in Alfie’s opinion. However, his favorite place to take you is back home. Home is where he can make you dinner and listen to you laugh at his strange stories. He loves to banter and bicker with you. You are one of the few people to make him laugh. Everyone at the port knows when Alfie’s had a nice evening with you because he comes to work in such a grand mood. Newer employees have to be warned not to get too comfortable, as he could come in like a bull if you argued that morning. 

He has a bad habit of dropping surprises on you. These surprises normally revolve around security and protection. Alfie will buy or arrange things for you and then completely forget he did it until you storm into his office asking for an explanation. For some reason, this man won’t admit these things are for self-defense. He just acts like it’s perfectly normal to take your lover out to a gun range or teach her how to stab a man between the ribs. He’s just being a fun, quirky man! 

A marriage proposal is never far off, he’s just waiting for you to convert. If you do not want to convert, prepare to be a secret. He is a religious man and he treasures his faith. Alfie will never forsake you (though he may jest) for not believing what he believes. His reason for hiding you is simple, his mother. Mrs. Solomons wouldn’t speak to her son if she found out he was living with an unwed gentile! 

That said, Mrs. Solomons adores you before and after you marry her son. She’s a delightful old Russian woman who is constantly ordering Alfie around. Mainly, she tells him he glares too much, and he needs to give her a grandchild soon. 

You were surprised by how touchy he is behind closed doors. In public, you could pass for an employee with how distant he is before marriage. After marriage, he likes to walk with arms linked. As a married couple, it is more appropriate to be seen touching each other and he takes full advantage of it. As a matter of fact, he’s almost clingy. He’ll call the house from his office and make up an excuse to talk to you. 

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Sorry, I just got this image of Steve with a cheesy grin and loving the running joke about him being a parental figure with Eddie.

After Vecna, the first joke gives him a mental image of his future in the RV, and it's Eddie right there beside him. He immediately knows that he wants Eddie to be the father of his children. He just glows when the kids joke about it, and so they do it even more. Of course, it made Eddie annoyed because he's a little slow and still thinks Steve is straight, that he had zero chance with him.

Of course, by the time that Christmas rolls around, they still haven't revealed their feelings. There's a party at Steve's house, and Eddie decides to dress up as Santa as a surprise. He strolled into the living room, shaking his belly.

"Ho, ho, ho!" Eddie bellowed. "Merry Christmas! Hope all you boys and girls have been completely bad this year!"

"Eddie," Steve said with a fond grin. "Where the hell did you find an all black Santa suit?"

"I have my ways," Eddie said coyly. "And you should know that it's not Santa Claus. It's Satan Claws."

He cackled, revealing fake claws, before running off to join the others. Steve watched him, his cheeks red. Robin looked at him in disbelief.

"Unbelievable, I can't believe you're in love with this man," Robin said. "At least my love isn't crazy like him."

She had spoken too soon because a moment later, Vickie entered the house in an all black Elf costume, fangs dripping with fake blood.

"He asked me to be his elf!" Vickie exclaimed as she greeted Robin with a kiss. "It sounded like so much fun!"

"You were saying?" Steve asked as Vickie ran off.

"Well, at least I told her how I felt," Robin said. "Chicken shit."

Satan Claws were a big hit with the kids as well as his Elf. And when the party started to slow down a little, it gave Max an opportunity to talk with Eddie.

"Can I tell Satan Claws what I want for Christmas?" Max asked.

"Sure thing," Eddie said with a grin.

"You know my biggest wish isn't that I could walk again. . .no, I accepted that. What I wish for is my two dads to get their heads out of their asses and tell each other that their madly in love with each other," Max replied.

"Well, it's a huge risk for one of your dads," Eddie chuckled nervously.

"Everything in life is a risk. Getting up out of bed in the morning is a risk," Max said. "You have to decide if Steve is worth it or not."

Eddie shrieked when he felt someone grab him and move him into the doorway of the living room. Suddenly, he was standing in front of Steve, who was looking above his head. Eddie followed his line of sight and saw a mistletoe hanging above their heads.

"Look, Steve - ," Eddie started to say.

Steve grinned and pulled him in by his fake beard, kissing him. Eddie froze for a moment before deepening the kiss. He enjoyed the way Steve giggled into his mouth every time the beard tickled his chin. They weren't even bothered when the kids started to sing, "I saw Daddy kissing Satan Claws." It was all very bad. They broke apart to breathe, laughing with their heads pressed together. Steve touched the pillow under Eddie's coat.

"I work fast," Steve smirked, and Eddie giggled.

"And that boys and girls," Robin said with her finger in the air as though she were a stuffy professor. "Is why you should never kiss a metalhead. They're super, duper fertile."

"Ah," the kids said unison, nodding solemnly.

Eddie grabbed the pillow out from under his coat and threw it at her.

"Fuck off, Robin," Eddie laughed.

"I can't believe you threw your baby," Robin scoffed. "You're a terrible father."

"Don't listen to her, you're a great dad," Steve laughed.

"Aw, thanks, baby," Eddie said.

They kissed again with Robin groaning in the background and the kids starting in on another verse of the song they wrote. It was a good Christmas all around, and Steve looked forward to more to come with Eddie.

[tnbc-thoughtsandheadcanons]

So, truth be told, I did get the feeling that something was a bit 'off' while reading Sally's Lament, and after talking with some friends about Sally's characterization in there, it brought up some good points and things that I picked up on and just couldn't word initially.

Sally, as a character, is a dreamer and lover. Part of the reason why she does so much in the movie is to warn and try to save Jack Skellington, because she loves him and wants the best for him. She has a song that laments her feelings being unreturned and worrying what will come for him - she embraces her feelings for Jack, and acts bravely in the name of it.

But Sally's Lament...did not have her this way. At some point in the story, she is *told* about the prospect of her and Jack by somebody else, and her immediate reaction is to push down her feelings for him. Deny them. Focus on the more "important things". This doesn't feel like Sally to me.

Disney has been on an interesting route of making their female characters more "empowering" and "strong" by having them push aside romance and relationships, in favor of them tackling danger and being independent instead. But it doesn't make SENSE with Sally because she braved through everything FOR Jack, her feelings for him helped inspire her to escape the tower and pushed her to rescue Santa Claus and stand up to Oogie because she believed in him, and wanted to help him. Having a character's actions being motivated by love does not erase the bravery OF those actions.

Jack and Sally call each other dearest friends, but in here Sally tells Abigail that she is her "very first friend". And not Jack? Whom she apparently felt comfortable enough to joke around with and ask for his vulnerability?...

Speaking of which -- Sally is also missing her shyness in here. I don't know if it's Disney wanting their girl leads to be bold and in-charge, but...her being outspoken and shy is part of who she is. And she was still strong and important to the movie despite that. She didn't let her shyness get in the way of warning Jack about his idea straight to his face, or marching down to Oogie's Lair, yet she still played with her hands around her love and ran off before he could talk to her. These things can coexist, and still prove she is a resourceful character.

Taking away Sally's shyness and romantic nature hurts me a lot; it feels like something is missing from her without them.

[meidui]

jealous!steve fic recs ❤️

Oh bother by @elcorhamletlive

At a vacation on a farm, a piglet imprints on Tony.

An Educational Experience (The Good Things Come To Those Who Wait Remix) by @valdomarx

Ults Tony has a nice day.

aka Tony talks Steve through sucking his cock.

Santa Claus is Coming to Town by Last_Chance_Anna

Steve and Tony throw a Christmas party, and Steve rediscovers his jealous streak when it comes to Tony. Luckily Tony knows the cure for that. Spoiler alert: It's sex.

in the storm, we stay clear by @thahiree

Steve and Tony's car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. It leads to some misunderstandings and then finally some long overdue conversations.

talking sweet and looking fine by meidui

“I haven’t dated since god knows when,” Tony says with a little shake of his head, almost self-deprecating. “This is one of Hill’s friends, actually. A civilian, not caught up with all this. I didn’t know she had those, to be honest.”

“Right,” Steve says, like this isn’t the softest, most unwitting way Tony has ever broken his heart.

you are the reason by @avengersnewb

Steve and Tony are seeing each other in secret. An unfortunate encounter with Tiberius Stone, just as Steve decides to talk to Tony and define their relationship, makes things complicated.

I Always Turn To You by @kandisheek

The Avengers are all hanging out drunk in the common room when Clint suggests playing fuck, marry, kill. Everyone chooses Steve to marry and while it is flattering Steve doesn't really care until Tony says he'd marry Bruce instead. He's not sure why that irks him so much.

Dirty Boss by silentinhill

Mr. Stark couldn't help himself.

Everybody Wonders (What It Would Be Like to Love You) by @soldiersshield

“...Is that what this is about?” He asks slowly. Steve blanches.

“Oh my god. It is.” Tony has no right looking as giddy as he does. “Steven Grant Rogers, are you jealous?”

Nobody Panic, Everything's Fine by @intelligentbees

Steve doesn't get jealous. He doesn't. Honestly.

It's just...well- Tony's been spending an awful lot of time with a new employee. Who's smarter than him. And funnier. And more interesting and generally a better match for Tony than he ever would be.

But he's not jealous. Honestly.

Poster Child Redux: Steve's POV by @sabrecmc

Tony likes the new Captain America poster. A LOT.

Steve likes Tony. A LOT.

These two boys need to stop thinking about it and get together.

Stop Flirting With My Tony by jinxedtiger

Steve accepts the fact that his boyfriend of a few months is famous, popular, etc. They announced their relationship forever ago but noooooo. Everyone still flirts with the billionaire.

Steve's patience is running thin and Tony's trying so hard not to laugh at the poor guy. (he'll have to resort to other methods to remind the soldier just how much he loves him)

[euphoricfilter]

if we were to live among the stars:

pairing: carpenter! yoongi x bunny hybrid! reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au || hybrid au || established relationship

summary: a story of the compulsory new christmas bauble

word count: 1.6k

tags/warnings: tooth rotting fluff, they’re kinda just in love it’s sickening, christmas!!!!

notes: this is connected to this universe, however can be read as a standalone <3

navigation where you can find my other work!!

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

there were a few times a year the shop got slightly out of hand. christmas being one of those times.

yoongi would like to hope that with every year that passes, he’d be slightly more prepared for the influx of people that take an interest in his craft. but alas, another year comes around and he’s close to losing his mind with how much work needs to get done before he can rest until new year.

the both of you have slowly worked out a system. christmas is the one time of year yoongi never feels guilty recruiting you as his little helper. and on brand, he likes to indulge in a new costume for you to wear each year around the shop. the elf had been his favorite; naturally so because it was fitting for the occasion.

so many years of christmas costumes tucked away in the storage room. last year he’d convinced you to be a reindeer, not without complaint from you, the little antler headband knocking against your poor little bunny ears. which he pet in apology that night until your fallen asleep on his lap and he’d had to carry you to bed.

this year, it was you who had convinced him to match with you.

you’d wanted to be Ms Claus, which of course meant yoongi would dress as Santa. the beard had come off less than an hour of him working, frustrated huff passing his lips before it’d been dropped onto the slowly growing pile of wood on the floor.

although christmas was simultaneously yoongi’s least favorite holiday (simply because it meant so much more work, and less attention directed at you), he couldn’t help the most gentle smile that would grace his lips when he’d glance over at you every so often. your tongue dipping past soft lips as you concentrate painting each of the small ornaments for him.

always utterly determined to strive for perfection, because the work you produced was a reflection on yoongi’s shop, and you wanted everyone to know he was simply the best at his craft. that christmas wasn’t the only time of year they should bother pottering through the door, or checking what he had on the online store.

“almost done for today, my love” he murmurs, back of his hand wiping the sweat from under the fluff of his santa hat.

you pause, paintbrush hovering over the small wooden christmas tree as you glance up at the clock.

“but it’s only 3” you turn to look at him, eyes flickering over his face.

he hums, “we’re almost done with orders…” yoongi pauses, tongue wetting his bottom lip, “and we haven’t done any of our own christmas shopping yet”

you blink, nodding “yes”

“i sense a but” he narrows his eyes at you

“but… your work is important” you tell him, gently placing the paintbrush on the wooden pallet he’d made you.

“our work” he corrects, “and i know that but… we haven’t gotten each other anything yet. plus, we still need to get out compulsory new baubles for the tree”

you shake your head at him, “i told you i don’t need anything this year”

“but that’s doesn’t mean i don’t want to treat you” he argues

“save your money for something better”

he drops the chisel on the table, clank of it ringing in your ears.

“my love” he takes a step closer to you, crouching down beside your bed of blankets and pillows, “there is no ‘better’ than you”

you sigh, “i thought you were saving up for a new shop” it comes out barely above a whisper.

he falls back so he’s sitting, fingers slipping between your own.

“it can wait”

“but you’ve been talking about it for months”

“and?” his fingers squeeze yours

“and… don’t spend money on me because then you can save up quicker” you shake your head, “i’m more than happy just spending time with you, you know that”

he hums, tugging you forward. his eyebrows crease when your knee almost tips the paint water over your blanket, quick to help you step over it until you’re sat in his lap.

“i know, baby” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “i’m having second thoughts on the new shop”

you pause for a moment, “pardon?”

your eyes are wide as you look up at him, “but yoongi—“

he groans, head tipping back so he can avoid your eyes, “i know, i know. i’ve yapped on about it for months”

“then what changed?”

“you”

you blink at him, “me?”

“yeah, you” it isn’t accusatory, never would be and you doubt it ever will. because yoongi would never be able to bring himself to blame you for anything.

“why me?”

“look at us” he gestures between the both of you, “we’re happy. and we worked so hard for this place, it’s home”

“we can make home in another place” you murmur, “don’t give up your dream because of me”

“it’s just—“ he starts, eyes flickering across your face as he tried to find the right words, “i’ve had enough for that place i was looking at for months�� i was going to call the guy who’s selling it but i couldn’t bring myself to do it”

“why?” you whisper, perhaps scared you’d ruin the mellow vulnerability if you spoke too loud.

“because this is us” he motions around the shop, “it would crush me to move us and then hate it, for me to walk into a new shop every single day and the warm feeling in my heart to never be there again” he tells you, “because you wouldn’t be able to nap on the window ledge, and we wouldn’t be able to walk down the street for coffee and your ice cream. years of you building up this—“ he points to your pile of blankets, pillows scattered how you like them, “would all be gone and it wouldn’t be the same”

“if you’re sure” you nod, “but if you change your mind—“

“i won’t” he stops you, “i know this is everything i need”

“and what if you need a bigger space?”

he groans, “i’ll throw away a table, i don’t know, it doesn’t matter. as long as it’s us and this shop then it doesn’t matter i’m happy”

“okay” you swallow, “i didn’t really want to leave anyways”

“why didn’t you tell me?” his fingers skim along the base of your bunny ears.

“because i’m not here to hold you back” you say, “i told you, where ever you go, i’ll be right behind you. because i trust you more than you’ll ever know”

“what if you were unhappy?” he runs a hand over his face.

“a piece of me will always be happy as long as we’re together. wether we stay here forever, or live among the stars with no one but us; i would be happy”

a smile quirks onto your lips as tears glaze over his eyes, the raw sort of love, all consuming, crazed, the kind of love that fills you up and threatens to spill out of every pore, so much contained within one fragile human body squeezing at yoongi’s heart as he looks at you.

his hands wander, over your shoulders and up to hold your cheeks, “okay”

“okay” you parrot, leaning into his touch.

“merry christmas” he leans forward, stealing the words from your tongue as he kisses you, ever so gentle and sweet.

“merry christmas” you whisper against his lips, quick to press a quick kiss before pulling away a little, “i might have already gotten our compulsory new bauble”

“without me?” his smile drops, eye brows furrowing

“we can get another one… but think of it as an early christmas gift”

you slip out of his lap, slinking over to your bag hung up by the door, fingers slipping past the zipper. yoongi can hear the paper bag crinkle between your fingers as you hold it behind your back, quick to sit beside him.

he turns his body to face you, knees knocking against yours.

you look down at the paper bag in your hands, mild hesitance painting your posture, sure to have so many thoughts running through your mind as you hand it over to him, not daring meet his eyes as he holds it.

“i like everything you get me” he reminds you at your clear nervous display.

“i know… but it still scares me” you admit

he lets the paper bag fall into his lap as he tugs your hands to hold his, “i love you”

your head tilts up to look at him, “i love you too but i don’t see—“

he stops you, finger pressed to your lips “i love you which means anything you’re willing to give to me will mean the world”

you frown, “open it then” you murmur

his hands slip from between yours, delicate as they unfold the paper bag.

a laugh bubbles up his throat at the sight of it, pure joy simmering beneath his skin as he holds it up in front of his face: a little wooden heart, a photo of the two of you sat prettily in the cut out.

he doesn’t remember when the photo was taken, but he remembers what you’d told him seconds before the shutter had captured that singular moment in time, locked in stasis forever.

“let’s love each other in every life, okay?”

because he remembers telling you that is the only way he planned to live, big smile on his face as you kiss his cheek.

“i love it” he whispers, eyes glued to the ornament like it were the most precious thing he had ever had the chance to hold, “i love you”

you smile, “i love you… merry christmas yoongi”

he lowers the bauble, “merry christmas, my pretty little love”

[the-californicationist]

They Think They're Sneaky

(Ghoap & Price/Reader)

It had taken you a while to make it feel like home. The soggy Liverpudlian winters were dreadfully different from your eighty-degree Miami holiday seasons. Seeing Santa Claus in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt was the Christmas of your childhood, and now you were bundled up, fighting the wind stinging your nose. After you were seeing each other for a few months, Price had been the one to invite you to stay, paying to break your apartment’s lease and cleaning out his extra room to help make space for you. You’d nested together, buying furnishings and linens, two little love birds. 

Price smiled at you over the kitchen island one day,

“What about a housewarming, then? Make a party for the boys before we head out on this next campaign.”

You agreed, rushing to prepare for a dinner. You made sure to head to the butchers for the best meats and cheeses, made sides from scratch - the whole deal. Price had put up the tree and the lights, hanging ornaments with you into the middle of the night, making love to you in the glow of the garlands, the tiny bulbs turning his skin into gold. 

The tables were set, the patio was cleaned, and the tree was trimmed. Then, the doorbell rang.

“Hey! C’mon in!” You hugged Soap, Ghost, and Gaz as they crossed your threshold, arms full of gifts, mostly bottle-shaped, hugging you back.

“Good ta see ya again, lass. Where’s the old man?”

“Out back, waiting for you,” you smiled, leading the team to the patio. 

The party went on for a good long while before anyone even mentioned being hungry, and you all drank more than you meant to. Price had smoked through two cigars, and he had a dram of whisky in his huge hand, talking animatedly with Gaz. Your friends from the gym had shown up, as well as your two pairs of neighbors, and the house was alive with laughter and warmth.

You spotted John across the kitchen, through the crowd, and gave him a knowing look. He saw you, mid-conversation with the neighbor, and excused himself, stalking you as you moved out to the patio. 

“Mm,” you put your hands inside his coat, “My warm bear. Bit chilly tonight, huh?”

“Aye,” he held you close to him, breathing into your hair, kissing your forehead. 

You looked up at him, seeing the love and desire in his eyes, hoping he’d kiss you. When he did, it washed over you, warm and fiery, burning down to your core. 

“Careful, love,” he warned, breaking your kiss, “House full o’ people are ‘bout to get more party than they came for if you keep rubbing on me like that.”

“Oh, yeah? How about the greenhouse? Surely they won’t miss us for that long,” you suggested, tugging on his arm, your eyes wild with mischief. 

He laughed, following you around the house to the large greenhouse he’d built for you. You’d mentioned missing fresh tomatoes, and so he had given it to you as a coming home present, breaking your heart with his surprise. You’d fucked his brains out in it that night, both of you sweating from the hot, humid interior, creating a tantric sauna, rolling around in each other’s filthy, soil-covered arms like animals. 

Now, as you approached the little building, you noticed that your secret space was occupied. Price held a hand to your mouth as you approached, pushing you back to the wall, hiding you from view. Slowly, carefully, you knelt with him, watching the scene of your two friends, Ghost and Soap locked in a half-naked embrace, unfold in front of your eyes. 

“Oh, my God!” You whispered as Price lowered his hand. 

“Hush!” He put a finger to his lips, unmoving, watching them as you crouched together, spying on them voyeuristically. 

Soap was having his cock sucked enthusiastically by Ghost. His mask was flipped up onto his nose, and his jaw was stretched to accommodate the Scot’s hardness, using his pink tongue to lick the silken skin along his shaft. He was jacking himself off with one hand, and fingering Johnny with the other, making him whine and beg for more of everything. Then, Ghost stood up, setting himself between Soap’s spread knees, ripping off his shirt, and began to feed himself into his lover’s asshole. You watched as Simon pulled Johnny’s mohawk back, exposing his huge Adam’s Apple, licking and sucking at his neck, leaving cruel bruises. 

With a unique urgency, he began to thrust himself up into the sergeant, jerking his cock as he did, spitting down onto it, rolling it in his palm. Soap was gripping onto Simon’s waist with white-knuckled hands, desperately keening. 

You gasped and Price turned to look at you, tearing his eyes away from your very personal porno,

“Mm, ‘s hot, huh, love? Got me fuckin’ hard. Wanna feel?”

He grabbed your hand and rubbed it along the crotch of his tight jeans. 

“Too bad our spot’s taken. Think they left us any room in the back corner there?” You joked with him, fondling his fleshy head and his rigid shaft through the fabric. 

You heard a terracotta pot shatter. Ghost yelled out a string of curse words, and you and Price ran for the patio, hurrying so you wouldn’t be spotted if they came out of the greenhouse. You stood by the back door, panting, laughing with each other, watching as the two sweaty bodies got dressed in a panic. Gaz poked his head out of the door and saw you two laughing, panting, and gazing out to the greenhouse. 

“What’s all this then?”

“Nothing! It’s nothing,” you tried to cover it up. 

But, just as you went to push him back inside, Ghost and Soap very casually exited the greenhouse, disheveled, Ghost’s black mask out of place, and Soap’s mohawk beyond repair. Gaz looked at them and then at you,

“That doesn’t look like nothing, does it, Cap?”

[fushic0re]

𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐖 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒

𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢 𝘅 𝗠𝗔𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟖 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — it’s nanako and mimiko’s first christmas, and suguru wants to make it special by dressing up as santa claus. chaos ensues when they catch their mom kissing santa. 

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 — 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. smut; penetrative sex, quickie, dirty talk. 

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

YOU DO YOUR BEST TO silence your giggles as you adjust the red velvet hat with white fur trim on Suguru’s head. 

With how exhilarated Nanako and Mimiko were for Santa’s arrival, it was not out of the realm of possibilities that they would come toddling out of their room and scope out the scene at any given moment—you both had to work quickly. It was the twins’ first ever Christmas at the tender age of five years old. That fact deeply saddened you and Suguru, unable to forgive the monsters in that village who harmed them so heartlessly. 

But it was not too late. They were still young with full fledged childhoods in front of them; childhoods that you and Suguru would do your damnest to fill with joy, laughter, love, and…fake Santa until they were too old for him. 

“Oh come on, Mrs. Claus. Just one little kiss.” Suguru purrs, his large hands slowly pulling your panties to the side as he kisses your neck. 

“I cannot take you seriously with this whole get up on. You look ridiculo–”

Your words were cut off by the tip of his member breaching your entrance, slowly sliding in as his girth stretched your walls deliciously. A sharp gasp escapes from your lips before you hurriedly cover your mouth with your hands. Your fiance chuckles deeply in your ear, punctuating his sentence with a low grunt as he sheaths himself in you to the hilt. 

“Please don’t argue with me like you aren’t always wet for me.” Suguru teases, stilling for a moment before slowly pumping his hips. 

You do not even have the effort to retort, only turning your head over your shoulder to smash your lips against his in an effort to keep yourself quiet. The kiss is heated and sloppy at best, a stark contrast to Suguru’s usual languid and sensuous kisses. Neither of you cared. If there was one thing you learned about becoming unexpected parents to twin girls, it was that if the opportunity presented itself…you needed to take it. Your lips are glued together as Suguru’s hips thrust with precision and control, maintaining slow and deep strokes that leave you gripping the edge of the couch so tight your knuckles turn white. The two of you are in your own little world before a loud gasp causes both of your heads to snap away from each other. 

“Mama! What are you doing?!” Nanako shrieks, stomping her tiny feet on the floor. 

For once in your life, you are speechless. Your mouth hangs agape as you hastily pull your pajama bottoms back up. Nothing but stutters leave your mouth, but luckily, Suguru is already in character like he was born to be Santa Claus. At lightning speed, he is situated himself in the full white beard…and pulled his pants up.

“Ho! Ho! Ho! You little ones weren’t supposed to see Santa, you should be in bed!” Suguru joyfully speaks in a typical Santa-like fashion. “You must be Nanako and Mimiko!”

If you were not so stunned, you would have a hard time trying not to laugh. 

Mimiko smiles shyly, taking her sister’s hand and hiding behind her slightly. 

“Yea…” She says cutely, watching the man she thought was Santa with wide awestruck eyes. 

Nanako is not as impressed. Her doe eyes narrow into slits.

“Why were you kissing our mama, Santa Claus? She’s married, ya know? Our daddy will beat you up.” 

Suguru snorts quietly from behind you, clearly amused by the older twin’s antics. Nanako was always the more outspoken between the two of them. At least he knew his little girl was a ride or die. 

“Santa was just making sure that your mother was feeling the Christmas spirit!” 

You sigh deeply, hitting your head against the couch repeatedly. Could he have come up with a better answer? With another exasperated sigh, you sit up and stand up from the couch, kneeling in front of your sleepy girls. 

“Aren’t you girls excited? Santa came to our house after all.” You say softly, cupping their cheeks. 

Mimiko immediately nuzzles her face against your palm. Nananko places her hand on your wrist, glaring at the imposter Santa over your shoulder. 

“...our presents better be good.”

© all rights reserved to fushic0re — do not translate, repost, or plagiarize

[kruegerspillow]

“Words are no match” — a Nikto fan fiction.

Creator's note: I've taken quite a liking to Nikto, and I can't help but grief at the lack of fanfics that he deserves to have ! So here is a fic for you underrated Nikto lovers <3

Summary: In which Nikto comes back home after deployment, bringing not just himself, but a handful of gifts you've been wishing to have.

Genre: Pure fluff, I just love this man sm :,D

Warnings: None, no use of gendered pronouns, readers gender is not specified, brief mentions of blood and violence. Not proofread, and I'm writing this at 2 AM :3

Word count: 481

Another peaceful night.

Days, weeks, months has passed since you've seen Nikto. His touch still lingers on your skin, his pale blue eyes plastered into your mind like a koala clinging onto it's tree.

You quietly laid on the bed, exhausted after a long day of studying for your finals. You missed his presence, truly, he made things easier without even realizing it. Thoughts clouded in your mind, memories hitting against each other like bricks.

You've always thought to yourself, was his job really worth his life?

Just as you were about to dozed off, the familiar click of your front door echoed through the hollow rooms. Your eyes shot open, sitting up quickly as you catched a pair familiar eyes through the small gap between the door from your bedroom— Nikto.

You nearly squealed like a school girl, rushing back to your feet as you swung the door open. Rushing towards him, his arms wrapped around your small body— muscles relaxing as he lets out a small huff.

All of that fighting, the blood of living creatures— just to come home to you safely.

Your head muzzled to the crook of his neck, seeking his warmth desperately as the emotions of despair evaporated into the cold air. He chuckled with amusement, chest rumbling before he gave a small peck on your forehead. His mask hid most of his facial features, yet you can feel his smile radiating.

“Nikto,” his named rolled of your tongue, hands on his back as you kept him close to you.

“маленький голубь,” you heard him mutter underneath his breath— voice full of emotions.

The corner of your lip tugs into a warm smile, hearing his voice for the first time after months of loneliness. Suddenly, your eyes catched onto something behind him— letting out a small breath you didn't know you were holding, you pulled away for a brief second just to look up at his eyes.

His arm loosened up around you, looking down at you— seeming absolutely lovestruck to see you again.

“I've.. got something for you,” he murmured out, sounding more excited then you are.

You tilted your head to the side with curiosity, before giving him a small look that says ‘what?’ in such a manner that makes his heart aches. He smiled briefly beneath his mask.

He turned to the side slightly, just to see a handful of gifts— there were things that you have wished for inside of it.Your eyes sparkled with amusement and shocked, not expecting him to bring such a gift for you. Your eyes glanced between him and the gift, before your smile spreads wider.

“Nikto..” you sighed out. “Are you gonna be my new Santa Claus?”

He scoffs, shaking his head in amusement before giving you a small look. His gaze softened at the sight of you.

“Ah, ебать, don't even think of it.”

[talaok]

Hey, love! How are you? I hope you’re doing great 💕

Can i request a joel x fem!reader?

So, a few days ago I found a strand of white hair on my head and I freaked out cause I’m only twenty and wtf ?? And soo I had this idea of reader, Joel and Ellie being settled in Jackson, reader’s brushing her hair and she sees the white hair and screams and joel and ellie go to her thinking that something bad happened… joel keeps teasing reader about it but eventually comforts her because she’s a little insecure about it? Oh, and maybe age gap?

I also wanted to thank you again for your beautiful stories, they make my day so much better, you have no idea! Sending you a lot of love !!!

❤️‍🩹🫶🏼

Babe why are you always so nice you make me want to cry, also this is literally something I'm so insecure about bc I have a bunch of white hair and I don't get why so thank you for requesting this. 

(HUGE sorry for the wait I just really have to study)

A scream echoed through your house in Jackson, and as time stilled, and both their hearts jump-started, they came running towards your voice.

"What happened?"

Joel's eyes were clouded with fear just as the fingers gripping his gun trembled with worry.

"are you ok?"

Ellie's voice was thin, quiet, nothing you'd ever heard before.

You looked at them, the hairbrush still in your hand, the daunting discovery lingering between your fingers.

"I have a white hair" you spoke, your tone somehow more horrified than both of theirs.

"what?"

"look" you urged, bringing your hair more in the light, your face twisting in an appalled grimace.

"sweetheart..." Joel sighed, shaking his head and putting away his gun "I thought something bad happened" he frowned, a glimpse of a smile ghosting his lips.

"you scared me to death y/n" Ellie protested too now.

"I'm sorry" you murmured, "but something bad did happen!"

They looked at each other, their eyes wide with amusement, and they could not help but burst out laughing.

"why are you laughing? This is not something to laugh about!"

"I'm-I'm sorry it's just..." Ellie spoke between giggles "It's just a white hair y/n, it's nothing"

"Nothing? This is everything! If I get one that means I'll get more"

Again, their laughs bounced across the bathroom tiles.

there you were, despairing for a different colored hair in a world where zombies actually existed.

You shot them a look "I hate you, go away"

"y/n-" Ellie tried

"no, just leave me alone while I try to find a way to hide this"

They glanced at each other, a small - I'll handle this- traveling from Joel to Ellie was all that was needed before the girl went back to her room.

You went to stand up

"careful there, I'm not sure you're in the right shape to stand up on your own at your age" Joel joked.

"That's not funny," you scowled, making Joel finally understand how serious you were about this.

"baby..." he murmured, stepping closer to you "it's not a big deal"

"but it is" you replied, desperate

"no, it's not baby" he continued, wrapping his arms around your back "It's just a white hair." he persisted "You're still the most gorgeous woman on earth"

"that's not the point" You shook your head

"no, then what is it?" he spoke gently, his thumb caressing your side

You hesitated "I-I don't know"

Joel smiled, trying to reassure you "Baby if you think that's bad, look at me" he chuckled "I look like Santa Claus"

"you don't" you bit down a smile "and besides, it's different, you're..."

"you can say it, sweetheart, I'm old"

"you're not old"

"no, then what am I?"

"you're just... older than me"

"That's a nice way of putting it"

You shook your head, smiling as you soaked in the feeling of his embrace.

He felt like a warm blanket after a cold winter day.

He stroked your cheek "C'mon now pretty girl, you're an amazing woman, you're smart, beautiful, funny, kind, good, and beautiful, you don't need to worry about a little white hair"

Your lips turned into that little happy pout Joel adored

"You said beautiful twice"

"Yeah, I know I did" 

You hit his chest playfully, your hand lingering on his body "I hate you"

"why?"

"'cause you always make me feel better, I'd like to be mad or sad for more than two minutes once in a while, y'know?"

"I'm sorry" he smirked, his thumb tracing your jawline "I'll do better next time"

"you better" you joked, making him smile.

"Are you feeling ok now?"

"mh-mh" you gave a shy nod

"you want me to kiss it better?"

"you can't kiss a white hair better"

"now" he said "there's no harm in trying, sweetheart"

[cowboydisaster]

Christmassy idea idk if I’m too late with this but I just thought of it- Arthur dresses up like Santa to surprise Aspen and the new baby🥹🥹

* ˚ ✦ Starlight * ˚ ✦

pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 900 a/n: Merry Christmas!! Thank you for this prompt, im glad you enjoy the little christmas universe.

cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: CHRISTMAS DAY!

christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist

“Aspen? Honey, I think someone's at the door.” You nod towards the threshold, a smile tugging at your lips as she peeks up from her seat at the table, abandoning her gingerbread men to look towards the door. 

“Who momma? Is daddy home?” She asks, a little spark in her eyes at the thought of her father. You pull the curtain back gently. Starlight trickles in as you fight a smile. 

“I don't know, baby. Why don't you bundle up and we'll go see.” 

She nods, and you help her zip up her coat, pull the boots over her feet. You add a scarf and gloves too, always erring on the side of caution. Aspen is so sweet and patient, waiting excitedly to check outside. She waits until you scoop Iris from her bassinet, and bundle the two of you up. 

The baby yawns, big blue eyes peering around, looking for her daddy no doubt.You smirk, holding her swaddled form close to your chest, leading Aspen towards the door. Your dog Bear rushes out first, barking loud, playing in the snow.

“Go on.” You smile warmly when she looks up to you, and then she pulls the door handle, revealing her surprise. 

Snow falls in beautiful intricate flakes, coating everything in white, falling upon fence rails and the big red wagon that is stopped in your front yard. Sugar and Jasper, yours and Arthur's steeds, stand proud at the front, decorated with red bridles and harnesses. 

The two horses bump their noses together, whinnying and entertaining each other as your husband– no, as Santa Claus himself steps down from the red wagon. 

Arthur had been gifted the outfit from an old friend, a designer from Saint Denis; his name was… Wasp, something or other. The rest had been Arthur's idea. The beard, the wagon, he'd planned it all. You had let him go along with it, seeing how much joy he gets out of spoiling them, making Christmas magical. 

“Ho, ho, ho!” Santa calls– with a particularly southern drawl, you note– as Aspen runs across the yard, a fit of giggles erupting from her chest. 

“MOMMA!” Aspen turns back to you, screaming. Her little cheeks are pink, a smile stretches ear to ear, “It's the real Santa Claus!” 

You rock Iris in your arms, watching the scene play out. Wishing you could live in it forever. 

Arthur helps Aspen climb into the wagon as she marvels at all the bells and whistles. She tells him how good she's been, how much she loves her family. She also tells Santa that her baby sister should be on the naughty list for crying too loud sometimes. Santa has no qualms with that one. 

Iris is far too little to stay out in the cold for very long, so after her nose begins to turn pink, you nod to Arthur, signaling that you'll be stepping back in the house. 

From your seat in the living room, rocking your daughter, you can see the pure joy in Aspen’s eyes. She sits on top of the wagon with Arthur, and he takes her for a ride around the property, talking to her all about Christmas. 

Iris stirs when the door flies open, your little girl running through. 

“Santa took me on a ride!” She hollers, pinks tinged pink from the cold. She pulls her scarf and boots off, dropping them by the front door, “He said ‘Goddamn!’”

Your eyes pop open wide, flickering up to your eldest, “He said what?” 

“Yep! He tripped and he yelled Goddamn!” 

“Baby–” You snort, covering your face with your hand, “Please don't say that word, okay?” You try not to laugh, knowing it will spur her to keep saying it. She nods, pure joy lingering in her eyes. Magic.

“Good, thank you.” You smile at her sweetness, “Go ahead and get in bed, honey. It's way past bedtime, and we have to get to sleep so Santa can sneak our presents under the tree before he leaves. I'll be in shortly to read you a story, alright?” 

— — — 

Bear’s head raises from its comfortable position as Aspen slides out of her bed. She knows it's way past her bedtime, knows that she should have stayed put, waited for you, but she can't help it.

She has Arthur's curiosity. She has your knack for mischief. The door doesn't creak as she pushes it open, little feet padding across the chilly wooden floor, down the hallway.

Ponderous eyes peek around the corner into the living room, going wide as dinner plates. There is a small pile of foil-wrapped presents under the Christmas tree, but more of her attention is locked onto the scene in front of the Christmas tree. 

She gasps, her little hand covering her mouth, suppressing giggles. She runs back to her room, and this time, her little padding feet reach your ears. She jumps back into bed, pulling the blankets up, giggling.  “Bear!” She whispers, gripping onto his big face, “Momma was just kissing Santa Claus!!”

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow @holyratrimony @twola @calcarius445

[moths-are-better]

one time I stockpiled a whole bunch of incorrect quotes and I think I should finally post them

Eva: Why are you on fire?  Dally: This is just how my day is going.

Eva: We have to plan, we have to figure something out.  Yugo: Eva, when have any of our plans ever actually worked? We plan, we get there, all hell breaks loose.

Eva: How the hell are you still alive?  Ruel: Honestly, I’m just as confused as you are.

Adamai : Don’t weep for the stupid. You’ll be crying all day.

Adamai : What goes up but never comes down?  Eva: The amount of stress you're bringing this family.

Yugo, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

Yugo: Is that a gun?!  Amalia : It's not what it looks like!  Yugo: It looks like a gun!  Amalia : Okay, maybe it is what it looks like, but in my defense, it doesn't have anymore bullets, so I technically can't shoot it anymore.  Yugo: ...ANYMORE?!

Adamai , singing: He's making a list, checking it twice, gonna find out who's on thin fucking ice  Amalia , also singing: Santa Claus is calling you out!

Adamai : Can I borrow five dollars?  Yugo: If you’re only borrowing it, does that mean you’ll pay me back?  Adamai : Of course.  Adamai : Not directly, but with my love and affection.  Yugo: So that’s a no.

Adamai : STOP!  *Everyone stops*  Adamai : wAiT a MiNuTe-

Cop: What are your names?  Yugo: Don't tell them, Amalia .  Cop, writing: Amalia ...  Yugo: Crap.  Amalia : Nice going, Yugo.  Cop: Amalia : Uh oh.

Adamai : That's it, I'm cutting off the internet!  Yugo: No, please don't! I have a family to feed!  Adamai : Adamai : What?  Yugo: I need to feed my Neopets!

Ruel: You know, I used to play back in my gory days.  Dally: You mean glory days?  Ruel: Ah, that too.

Yugo: .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.-- [translation: I’M SORRY] Amaila: What's that? Yugo: Remorse code. Amaila: I'm even angrier now.

Yugo: Amaila and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's-  Amaila: Sentences.  Yugo: Don't interrupt me.

Yugo: What’s up guys? I’m back. Amaila: What the- you can’t be here. You’re dead. I literally saw you die. Yugo: Death is a social construct.

Amalia : You're violent.  Yugo: Yeah but I'm also short and that's adorable.

Yugo: Amalia and I are no longer dating.  Amalia : Yugo, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married.

Yugo: If there's going to be a big dramatic scene, wait until I get back. Amaila: Of course. I can't flip this table by myself.

Yugo: How petty can you get? Amaila: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

Chibi: You need a hobby.  Yugo: I have a hobby!  Chibi: Hitting Quilby isn't a hobby.

Eva: Guys, I’ve been meaning to tell you… Dally and I are dating.  Dally, Adamai, Amalia , and Yugo: *gasp*  Eva: Dally, why are you surprised?!

Amalia : Dally! For the love of god, please turn down that music. I have a hangover.  Dally: *blasting the mii theme at full volume* That sounds like a you problem, not a mii problem.

Amalia : Dally, this morning, I called you abhorrent and reprehensible, and I’d like to withdraw that statement-  Dally: Aww, thanks-  Amalia : But I can't. Those are the 2 words that best describe you.

*Dally is fighting a monster*  Adamai: Just stay calm! You already have everything you need to beat it!  Dally: The power to believe in myself!?  Adamai: No, a knife! Stab it!

I have more so I’ll post them eventually

[peri-peri-sauce]

MASTERLIST

In this post you will find my masterlist of Käärijä x Reader fics. You can also go to my AO3 profile and check them out there :)

Beware! NSFW

These fics are NSFW, so please, reader discretion is advised.

Female Reader:

Bad Boys Need To Be Punished

The meeting with your friends had taken an unexpected turn when Jere couldn’t keep his hands off you, making you completely distracted. That’s why, upon arriving home, you decide to teach him a lesson. After all, bad boys who can’t keep their hands to themselves deserve to be punished.

Dress Me And Praise Me

Boredom begins to invade Jere while waiting for you to arrive home. However, he finds something intriguing in your room that leads to some intense self-exploration. But when you return with your own surprise, things get even hotter as Jere discovers new things about himself.

Two Can Play This Game

Knowing how competitive Jere is, you already know that teasing him while he’s playing video games is not a good idea. This becomes even riskier when you know there’s a bet involved. Like they say, actions have consequences, and soon, the little game you start turns into a heated competition to see who could rile the other up more.

Santa's Naughty List

Unexpectedly, a young man claiming to be Santa Claus enters your home, initially causing you to believe you’re being robbed. However, in a surprising twist, it turns out that he truly is who he claims to be, and apparently, he has a surprise for you this Christmas.

Wrap Me Up Like A Christmas Present

Jere surprises you by wrapping himself as a present beneath the Christmas tree. As the evening progresses with a gift exchange and a delightful dinner shared with family and friends later in the night, Jere remains oblivious to your mischievous intentions.

Drench Me With Your Love

A party on the outskirts of the city turns into an unexpected reunion with an old friend you haven’t seen in ages. As the day unfolds, a playful chase leads to a more intimate moment. Will you find the courage to express your feelings for him after all these years of harboring a crush? And will he reciprocate those feelings?

Hurt Me Until I'm Screaming For More

“If you score a goal, I promise to whip you when we get home.” Motivated by your promise, Jere redeems himself in a hockey game with six goals after a disappointing performance, basking in the satisfaction of fulfilling part of your promise. Now, it’s your turn.

Red Rose Dinner

After being stood up by your Tinder date, you find yourself approached by a shy and charming man at the restaurant. As you share an unexpected dinner together, you become increasingly drawn to this adorable boy as the night unfolds.

There's An Alien In My House

What happens when, during a stormy night, you encounter an unknown creature in your kitchen? You are unsure of its origin or intentions, yet it appears to be drawn to you, or rather, to your scent. Despite the uncertainty, for some inexplicable reason, you decide to allow it to stay. What will happen next in your life now that there’s an alien in your house?

Gender Neutral Reader:

It's All About You

Jere arrives home tired from work, exhausted from his busy schedule, so you help him relax.

My King, My God

You made a promise to Jere but couldn’t fulfill it, so to earn his forgiveness, you’ll need to stroke his ego.

Tastes Like Heaven

What began as an innocent act of feeding Jere quickly escalates into a surprisingly intense moment between the two of you.

Series:

Short, plotless, spicy fics

This is a series of short, plotless, spicy fics that I wrote some time ago and never posted. If not all, most of them are inspired by specific pictures or videos that Käärijä has posted, which I will add at the start of each fic.

Fic Requests

This is a series of fics that people have request from me.

Other:

KHaarija's OnlyFans

Short Solo Jere, Jere x Reader and Jere x Häärijä x Reader writings, inspired by some of KHaarija’s OnlyFans posts.

If you enjoy my fics, feel free to leave kudos or a comment!

If you would like to support me further, you can also buy me some coffee. Your help will go towards funding the therapy I need after everything Jere Pöyhönen puts me through :')

Thank you so much!

[film-in-my-soul]

Think of the Children, Bucky Barnes | 1,214 | RainyForecast

Summary: Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes decided, was on his shit list. Officially. And seeing as he was currently dressed as Santa Claus, the threat should carry some symbolic heft.

undersell, overcommit | 10,222 | silentwalrust

Summary: Steve goes so hard for Bucky that he becomes a licensed, practicing massage therapist.

Glitter in the Air | 11,625 | BonkyBornes / @padfoot-and-the-marauders

Summary: James was standing when Steve turned around. His backpack hung from his left shoulder. Somehow, he’d managed to buckle the strap across his chest. He looked at Steve, his gaze simultaneously expectant and far away. Guarded. Waiting. For what, Steve didn’t think he wanted to know. “Are you in trouble?” Steve asked again. His voice was quiet, barely there. “No.” Steve looked at him. At the dark bags beneath his eyes, at his dirty hair, the sweatshirt he’d been wearing since Steve had first seen him. There was a hole in the left cuff. It was none of his business. “Is there anyone I can call for you? Is anyone looking for you? There are phones you can use.” “No. I’m—” He stopped and looked at the door. His eyebrows furrowed. “I’m looking.” “Looking for what?” If Steve could help in any way, he would. James looked at him again. It was the first time he’d fully met Steve’s gaze. “Myself.”

(see more recommendations below!)

I [Heart] You | 1,138 | writeonclara / @writeonclara

Summary: “Steve’s been hit with a curse,” Natasha said. She said it calmly, so Bucky didn’t immediately go flying out of the apartment to tear apart the Tower in search of Steve. Then again, Natasha would probably be calm if New York City spontaneously burst into flames. He lowered the coffee pot and squinted at her. “Of course he has,” he said. He felt, abruptly, exhausted. “What is it?” “The witch kept ranting about sexual repression and archaic moral principles,” she continued blithely. “It’s not like you to prevaricate, Romanov.” Natasha pressed her lips together. For a moment, Bucky thought she might start laughing. “It might be easier just to show you.”

Small Truths | 1,311 | crackdkettle / @crackdkettle

Summary: Five times Steve shrank and one time he didn't change back.

Van Goghing Slightly Mad | 1,541 | Xanoka / @adventures-in-mangaland

Summary: Damage control. Now would be the perfect time for damage control. “I’m sorry for calling your painting porn!” Well shit. Bucky is a Security Guard at a fancy art gallery and is absolutely not crushing on the Tiny Blonde Guy who frequents the Modern Art section. Nope. Not at all.

unlocking | 2,636 | glim

Summary: Written for Shrinkyclinks Fest for the prompt: Winter Soldier Bucky is recovering and trying to learn about/integrate into society. So, to kill two birds with one stone, he goes to the library. Steve is the librarian in charge of the history section.

Winter, New York City | 3,688 | unicornpoe

Summary: Between the rough sheets stretched rumpled across the bed, two boys curl like a set of parentheses around each other and their breaths mingle arhythmically in that dark place behind Bucky’s eyelids. It’s still night until he looks; it’s still night, and he doesn’t have to move. But then: a shift, Steve’s head rolling a little where it rests on Bucky’s chest, soft-fine hair rasping against Bucky’s collar bone. A quiet, wet cough. And Bucky opens his eyes.

Love in an Elevator | 3,785 | leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) / @leveragehunters

Summary: Bucky wanted M&Ms. Steve just wanted to go home. Neither wanted to get stuck in an elevator. (Warning: may contain traces of peanuts, banter, and some fluff.)

The Bucky Barnes Guide to Household Management | 5,506 | CryptoHomoRocker / @feelingsaboutgaysuperheroest

Summary: "Steve doesn't even notice at first, is the thing." Or: Steve is unobservant, Bucky learns to be good at things that aren't killing people, and knitting happens.

Stitch Me Up Right | 5,954 | sirsable

Summary: The Avengers have a new fashion designer and suddenly Bucky has a lot of problems with his suit.

Nailed to the Wall | 645 | Catchclaw

Summary: “Shhhh,” Bucky says for the dozenth time. “If you’re that afraid of getting caught, you should probably keep your mouth shut, huh?”

Snap Him Up | 647 | Catchclaw

Summary: “Rogers, those do nothing for you.”

You're Back | 779 | Catchclaw

Summary: He dreams that he’s spread on Bucky’s fingers. Not the blood and bone ones. The metal ones; the cold, killing kind.

Mistake on the Part of Nature | 1,274 | idiopathicsmile / @idiopathicsmile

Summary: Steve takes in Bucky's betrayed look and Sam's confusion, follows Sam's gaze to the pile of mangled fruit in the trash can. Sudden comprehension fills his face. "Oh," he says. "Bucky found out about bananas."

Resist / Delay / Obstruct | 1,321 | ladivvinatravestia / @ladivvinatravvestia

Summary: Who uses their mug shot as their dating profile pic? Steve Rogers, that’s who.

then we shall need each other | 1,425 | tsunderestorm / @tsunderestorming

Summary: In which Bucky returns to Steve, just not in the way he'd expected.

Phases of the Moon | 2,359 | Catchclaw

Summary: It’s not so much that Steve Rogers is a virgin, it’s that he’s a virgin.

They Say That Time's Supposed to Heal You | 4,939 | untune_the_sky

Summary: The thing they don’t tell you, don’t warn you about, when you make that first connection – when you feel somebody else’s breath in your lungs for the first time – is that it fucking hurts when that’s gone. They don’t warn you, because it’s a difficult thing to comprehend; it’s a difficult thing to understand.

One-Armed Pushups | 5,033 | k8erwaul

Summary: Saw one of those "AU prompt" posts on tumblr and this one stuck out to me as perfectly appropriate for Stucky: “i came to the gym to work out but holy god i can’t stop watching you do one armed push ups that’s so hot” AU

Just let me (kill) love you | 5,041 | Chim / @chim-aceyliz

Summary: The Winter Soldier has a mission: killing Steven Grant Rogers. Too bad the whole universe is getting in his way.

"Lunch" | 5,140 | cleo4u2 / @cleo4u2 & xantissa / @xantissa

Summary: Bucky Barnes, the feared Winter Soldier, is working hard at becoming a person again. He doesn't understand a lot of the modern world, yet, but he Avengers help him with that when they can. They don't always get it right.

Something Fishy | 5,254 | leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) / @leveragehunters

Summary: Steve meets Bucky. Bucky meets Steve. Some things are meant to be. But even when something's meant to be, you might need to work a little to make it happen. (And that's made a tiny bit harder when your universe, out of all the infinite multiverse, managed to get things so completely mixed-up.)

When You Come Home | 5,978 | unicornpoe

Summary: “Nice to meet you, Bucky,” says Steve. He lets go of Bucky’s hand, and it doesn’t feel like a retreat, but it does feel like a promise: like the end of a sentence left uncapped, hanging there for one of them to finish later. There’s a cold wind blowing, but Bucky feels warm. “Please don’t try to come in here,” Bucky says. “There are alien corpses. It’s really gross, and really dangerous.” “Alright,” Steve says, and he’s not quite laughing aloud, but one lingers in the corners of his smile, in the way his blue eyes brighten.

special delivery | 6,049 | glim

Summary: It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time. At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

asthma attacks, fire escapes, and chai | 6,657 | beemotionpicture / @beemotionpicture

Summary: It happens because of his asthma of all things. As soon as he feels short of breath he starts rooting through his messenger bag for his inhaler. Steve has a moment to think aha! and then fuck, before he's losing his grip on the thing and it’s skidding across the pavement and into an alleyway. He freezes when he realizes he’s not alone. Steve hears a muffled sound coming from behind the dumpster, but that’s not what makes him look; no, it’s the metallic scent in the air which, with a creeping feeling of dread, he hopes isn’t blood. He looks. It’s blood. And there’s a man sitting right in a puddle of it, leaning heavily against the brick wall and clutching his side with a metal hand.

re(dis)covery | 7,024 | glim

Summary: Wherein Bucky Barnes, SHIELD operative, discovers he has feelings for the nurse down in medbay and rediscovers a few more things about himself along the way.

Blind Date | 8,294 | AggressiveWhenStartled & quietnight / @quietnighty

Summary: “I just had the best idea I have ever had in my life,” Bucky said, punching straight through a doombot with his metal hand and clutching the napkin with Steve’s phone number in the other. The formerly (somewhat) dark and peaceful corner of Central Park was now lit up with energy beams, flashing robotic lights, and panicked astronomy buffs running for cover. Oh well, it wasn't like they'd been going to see many stars what with all the Christmas shit everywhere. “The bar you are setting for that is not high,” Natasha told him over the coms.

Brooklyn | 8,749 | togina / @toli-a

Summary: "Captain America, what's your stance on gay marriage?" Everyone knows that, by now. Everyone but Bucky.

Here comes the feeling you thought you'd forgotten | 8,946 | bangyababy / @bangyababy

Summary: So he eats his cake and sips his coffee, occasionally glancing up from his phone to Steve. If Steve sees him he’ll give him a little smile, which he tries to return, but judging from the look on Steve’s face, it’s probably not working. Still, Steve doesn’t stop smiling at him. It makes him feel almost…real. Today, he thinks, he can be James. Recently escaped from Hydra, the Winter Soldier stumbles into a bakery where he meets the worker, Steve. Being around Steve helps him remember things about his past, makes him feel a little more like a person, so he keeps coming back.

The Long Road to Lynbrook | 9,306 | monicawoe / @monicawoe

Summary: Six years ago, Bucky left the hamlet of Lynbrook to battle against the Knights of Hydra. Steve has missed him ever since, and refuses to believe he's dead. One night, Steve finds a frog at the well— a frog with one metal arm.

Breadth Requirements | 9,438 | SkyisGray / @skyisgray

Summary: Steve's never met his Psych TA in person, but he's a little obsessed with their snarky, flirty email conversations. Steve's never made any headway with the hot guy who sits in front of him in Psych, but he's a little obsessed with his mouth.

if you keep reaching out (then i'll keep coming back) | 10,517 | unicornpoe

Summary: “Do you mind if I work a little, Bucky?” He says Bucky’s name as often as Bucky says Steve’s, like maybe he likes the feel of it, the music of it—like maybe it’s at the top of his list, too. He’s using strong-looking hands to pick up the satchel he’d been carrying when he came over, lifting it up and sitting it on his lap. “I’m an artist, and I’ve got a couple commissions I hafta finish up here soon.” Artist. Of course he is. “I don’t mind,” Bucky says. He doesn’t. He likes the idea of sitting across from Steve while he works, sipping his coffee, finishing the book he was reading, and maybe looking up and meeting Steve’s eyes every now and again. His shock-blue eyes. His eyes framed with golden lashes, like seagrass. The Winter Soldier, and a man made of spun-strong gold.

Wrap Battle | 10,604 | GoodbyeBlues

Summary: "Hey, fuckface!" Steve called out after him. "What name do I put on the order?" The man stopped short, turning and looking at Steve from under a cocked brow. "Do you talk to all of your customers this way?" "Yes," Steve nodded. It was the truth. The man grinned, his straight white teeth flashing and the creases framing his eyes deepening with the motion as he continued to gaze unflinchingly at Steve. "You can call me Bucky."

Nokken Wood | 10,616 | leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) / @leveragehunters

Summary: When Sam's friend needs a house-sitter for his place in the country, Steve jumps at the chance. Six months rent-free to do nothing but draw and paint and wander the countryside, looking for inspiration? It was like a dream. But when he gets lost in a storm and nearly falls into a pond he starts to rethink the whole like a dream aspect of life in the country. And when a red-eyed, sharp-clawed, silver-fanged creature rises out of the darkness, Steve is one hundred percent certain the dream's morphed into a nightmare. ...until it gives him a cup of tea.

miles to go before i sleep | 11,910 | Avelera / @avelera

Summary: Steve finds Bucky outside of the Smithsonian and invites him home.

Under the Skin | 18,447 | leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) / @leveragehunters

Summary: "Brooklyn, like I said," he replied, taking Steve's hand and shaking it, then he paused, tilted his head, and said, "Actually, since you're staff? It's Bucky." "Bucky," Steve repeated, feeling oddly touched. "Always Brooklyn in front of the clients, though," he added seriously. "No, of course," Steve promised. "Good to meet you." "You too," he said, glancing down to where Steve was still holding his hand. Steve let go with a sheepish smile. "Sorry." Working in a brothel wasn't somewhere Steve ever expected to find himself, but then he'd never expected to quit his shitty corporate hell-job to apprentice as a tattoo artist. Great as it was, his apprenticeship didn't come with a pay cheque, so eating and keeping a roof over his head meant finding a job that paid actual money. Which was how he'd ended up as the night receptionist in a brothel, accidentally holding Bucky's hand, with no idea Bucky was going to turn out to be something else he'd never expected.

Decoys | 19,540 | littlerhymes / @popliar

Summary: The serum makes Steve stronger, but not bigger. Instead of a superhero, he becomes a spy.

Something New, Something Gold | 20,385 | Nonymos

Summary: Bucky Barnes, retired black-ops operative and Archeology professor, spends a long weekend in the Brazilian rainforest toying with his own mortality and puzzling over the mystery of Steve Rogers. (Also, like, the lost city of El Dorado. But seriously, Steve Rogers.)

The Day the World Went Away | 21,323 | 74days / @74days

Summary: Bucky Barnes has survived the Virus that devastated the world, leaving him road-tripping over America dodging violent gangs and trying to get through another year. When he manages to find a radio station still broadcasting, he's not aware that the voice on the other side of the country will soon become the driving force behind his actions.

This Side | 35,321 | orphan_account

Summary: Bucky Barnes restores antiques for a living. Steve Rogers saves the world. Bucky has no reason to believe their paths will ever cross, right up until they do.

Graphology | 55,177 | leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) / @leveragehunters

Summary: "Steven Grant Rogers," a voice said from somewhere near Steve's front door. "Professional inker. Maybe you'd like to explain why you're leaving us messages about our good friend Bucky?" The redhead currently pinning Steve to the couch said, "Really?" "Alright, her good friend Bucky. My tolerated friend Bucky." "My phone's on the table," Steve ground out. "Grab it, have a look at the last picture." The guy grabbed it, and his obvious double-take would have been funny if Steve wasn't being crushed into his couch. He held it out and the redhead peered at it. "It could be fake." "That's right," Steve said, digging down for all the sarcasm that existed in his skinny body. "I scribbled all over my own thighs and took a photo so I could lure a pair of hostile weirdos to my apartment. That's how I enjoy spending my time." "You know what this means, right?" the guy said, sounding deeply bemused. "Bucky has a soulmate.

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