#alien stage makes my brain work
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them being wet here as if they were RAINED ON.
#im#i would say something about this but#my brain isnt working i hate alien stage#the way i was so happy for a second too#i was like omg! ivan alive!#sigh if only#anyways noticing this makes me want to analyze more but i dont think its good for my brain#alien stage#alien stage round 7
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“they had something” and it’s gihun and frontman ?? im sick
#THEY HAD WHAT? CUS ITS CERTAINLY NOT ENEMIES TO LOVERS#people would ship two brain - eating amoebaes if they were somehow male#and that’s exactly what’s in their fucking heads. it’s the same way fyozai makes no sense to me#a ship doesn’t need to be good for it to work and characters esp ENEMIES should always have some kind of chemistry and understanding of#each other. because that’s what makes it good WITHOUT#ROMANCE. but what i’m tired of it opening any platform and seeing every male relationship (non romantic meaning) boiled down#old man yaoi ….. you’re sick. you’re actually sick like ?!!!!:£:73!:/&/83&&:£: HELLOOOOOOO#HELLOOOOOOOOO#idc it doesn’t make sense to me like call me a hater but im like ??? y’all could have shipped him with jungbae. but you won’t bcs he’s not#attractive to you …. like i’ll say it once and shout it again im sick#it’s the same fucking thing with alien stage man like it was created by two lesbians and has to women front and centre to kick it all off#and the main character is a woman and yet its a BL? KYS#i’m tired. like i don’t hate shipping but im tired of predicting that people will yaoi-ify anything#two ants are looking at each other rn over a crumb of bread and someone would say they’re star crossed#that ant will give up the crumb for his love bcs he needs it more or some shit#yawn. anyway rant over but tldr shit makes no sense to me anymore and it i see one more gihun and frontman edit im propelling myself#into traffic. in front of the person who made it#like some people just can’t let things be non romantic and it’s ??????? sometimes it’s better when it’s not#like not romantic i mean. sometimes things are better when they aren’t trying to fuck each other#the amount of typos can u tell im irritated HDJSJSJSJS#i try not to let this shit bother me but atp it’s all i see. i don’t want jayvik or gihunfrontman smut on my timelines grandpa im tired
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tfw the person you love with all your being loses the round and is killed in front of your eyes
#khr#katekyo hitman reborn#khr fanart#sawada tsunayoshi#my art#still have no clue who would take sua's role in this#like the obvious answer is kyoko. but then that kinda raises the question abt where ryohei fits in all this#hypothetically kyoko could fit the role of hyuna. but so could chrome. so could lal mirch#maybe haru? but she's such a cheery character that the vibes don't particularly match#ofc so is kyoko but she's a lot calmer in comparison so it works better i think#idk man i've already put way more thought into this then i originally intended#mukuro or byakuran in luka's role is also floating around in my brain#i'm leaning more towards the former for that one#solely bc it opens to possibility of hibari in hyuna's role#and that is such a big personality clash that i'm kinda living for it tbh#i should probably make a tag for this au#alien stage au
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✨ How Your Dominant Planet Secretly Shapes Your Teenage Brain ✨
Have you ever looked back at your late teens and wondered why you were so obsessed with certain things? Like, one friend was glued to their guitar and poetry journals, another was training for their fifth marathon, and you? You were probably neck-deep in your thing. Here’s the deal: your dominant planet was pulling the strings behind the scenes, shaping how your mind worked and what you gravitated toward without you even realizing it.
Let’s break it down:
🌞 SUN Dominant: "I need to shine—what’s the point otherwise?" Late teens for Sun-kissed folks are like a personal hero’s journey. You’re obsessed with figuring out who you are. Your brain’s constantly asking, Am I good enough? Do people see my worth? You might’ve been the captain of the debate team, the drama club star, or just that person who somehow made walking to the cafeteria look like a runway. How your mind works: Everything feels like a stage, and you want to perform your best—even in front of yourself. You seek validation, yes, but deep down, it’s about finding your inner confidence.
🌙 MOON Dominant: "I feel… everything. Is that normal?" For Moon folks, the late teens are an emotional hurricane. You’re all about understanding feelings, whether it’s yours or everyone else’s. You probably overthink texts (why’d they only reply with “k”?), cry over movies you’ve seen a million times, and have deep, borderline-therapeutic convos with your bestie. How your mind works: You process the world emotionally first, logically second. You’re learning how to handle your empathy without drowning in it.
🔥 MARS Dominant: "Let’s go! But… where are we going?" Mars kids are powered by action and passion, and your late teens are when you’re learning to channel that fire. Your brain thrives on challenges, so you probably signed up for every sport, pushed yourself in the gym, or got way too into proving someone wrong in an argument. Impulse control? We’ll work on that later. How your mind works: You process through doing. Sitting around theorizing makes you twitchy. You need action, even if it’s messy. Picking fights on the basketball court because the ref made a bad call, then realizing you’re actually just mad your crush didn’t text you back.
💬 MERCURY Dominant: "Wait, how does that work? Tell me everything!" Mercury-dominant teens are curiosity machines. Your brain’s like a search engine that never stops running. You want to know why, how, who, and what if. You’re that kid who can’t let a fun fact go without looking it up. Debates? Bring ’em on. Trivia? Your jam. Group chats? You run them. How your mind works: You connect ideas at lightning speed. Learning isn’t just a necessity; it’s your love language. Staying up until 3 a.m. watching YouTube videos about conspiracy theories, then showing up to school explaining why aliens totally built the pyramids.
💎 VENUS Dominant: "Why settle for okay when life can be beautiful?" Your late teens are a crash course in pleasure, relationships, and aesthetics. You’re probably experimenting with your style (cue questionable fashion phases), figuring out love (hello, hopeless romantic), or diving into art and music. Life needs to feel good, or it’s just not worth it. How your mind works: You’re tuned to beauty and connection. Your decisions are emotional but driven by desire—whether it’s for love, art, or the perfect selfie.Spending an hour perfecting your eyeliner just to go to the grocery store because what if you meet someone cute?
🌍 SATURN Dominant: "I’m too busy for nonsense." While your friends are out making impulsive mistakes, you’re busy building your future. Saturn-dominant teens have an old-soul vibe. You’re focused on responsibility, probably working a part-time job while juggling school and worrying about saving for college. Fun? Sure, but only if it’s productive. How your mind works: You crave structure and long-term success. While others wing it, you plan 10 steps ahead. Skipping a party to study for finals because failing isn’t an option—not because of pressure, but because you expect better from yourself.
🚀 RAHU Dominant: "What’s the wildest thing I can do right now?" Rahu teens are like explorers charting unknown territory. You’re obsessed with breaking rules, chasing thrills, and doing the forbidden. If it’s edgy, you’re into it. You’re the one sneaking out, dyeing your hair neon green, or trying things that make adults nervous. How your mind works: You’re wired to seek more. More excitement, more knowledge, more of life’s extremes. Going on a spontaneous road trip with friends, breaking the rules, or getting into something your parents wouldn’t approve of��just because it felt like the next big adventure.
🌌 KETU Dominant: "I’m here, but also not really here." Ketu teens are all about spiritual detachment. You’re introspective, reflective, and a bit aloof. While everyone else is chasing their dreams, you’re figuring out why dreams matter at all. Meditation, tarot, or even just staring at the stars for hours—you’re vibing on a higher plane. How your mind works: You reject surface-level stuff, diving into the depths of existence. But you also need to learn to be present. Skipping out on big social events to sit at a park by yourself, journaling about the mysteries of life, or getting into spiritual practices like meditation because they felt more authentic than anything else.
🚀 JUPITER Dominant: "Knowledge is freedom, and I’m going after it!" Jupiter-dominant teens are all about growth, knowledge, and the bigger picture. Your late teens were likely filled with plans for the future, exploring new ideas, and constantly looking for ways to improve. You may have been the one always talking about your next big trip, your dream career, or the philosophies that shaped your world view. How your mind works: You crave expansion and understanding. Learning is your path to freedom. Deep-diving into a topic you just discovered, researching potential career paths, or discussing ideas about travel, culture, and self-improvement with anyone who would listen. Your teenage years were wild, weren’t they? Which planet had your brain on lock? Reblog with your planetary dominant and let’s compare chaotic late-teen stories. 🌠
#astrology#vedicastrology#tropical astrology#venus#mars#jupiter#moon#ketu#AstrologyCommunity#VedicAstrology#StarryWisdom#CosmicJourney#MysticVibes#SpiritualAwakening#AstroInsights#AstroBlog#DivineGuidance#InnerJourney#SeekersUnite#SoulSearchers#AlignedEnergy#YourSoulTribe#SelfExploration#vedic astro notes#vedic astro observations#vedic astrology#darakaraka#venus darakaraka#sidereal astrology#naskshatra
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regarding the whole thing where jazz doesn't realize prowl's whole self is a living, feeling being... the cross-cultural miscommunication potential is also how jazz and prowl could end up in a confusing situationship. Like Jazz would probably think nothing of being super touchy, and have zero respect for personal space, because to him it's *not* touch or personal space! a pilot making his mecha hang all over another pilot's mecha is just normal military misuse-of-equipment horseplay!
(like making your mecha slap another guy's mecha on its butt is solidly funny joke territory, not sexual harrassment. if we humans had mechas in real life, this is the kind of shit the pilots would constantly be doing, lbr)
So you end up with a scenario where Prowl's making friends with this weird new guy who's always getting very close, and who is touching him a lot, and it all comes across as very intimate and flirtatious, and maybe even scandalous. Except Jazz never actually asks him out or makes a real move, and Prowl is going through all the stages of gay panic and confusion.
Just Jazz consytantly unknowingly being this huge heartbreaker tease, and Prowl is just s u f f e r i n g.
--
Imagine the accidental flirting, too! Like Jazz is super impressed by this Prowl guy's mecha, so he's trying to talk shop with the other pilot (or so he thinks).
Jazz: "Wow, that build you have is great! Really impressive detailing. Who did the work?"
Prowl, well-known cold construct, confused and oddly flattered: "Um, a factory in Petrex did my construction?"
Jazz, who has never heard of Petrex but also failed geography in high school, trying not to look dumb in front of this impressive 'pilot': "Oh, Petrex, sure! Well, they did a great job!"
Prowl, now totally convinced this guy is hitting on him, flustered: "Th--thanks?"
Jazz, who would like to have a competent partner to fight evil aliens, decides he needs to poach this pilot to work with him. So he slings his mecha's arm around the other mecha's shoulder, leans in real close: "You know, you and I would make a great team!"
Prowl: *crashes from full blown gay panic*
--
Sorry for spamming your ask box with so much brain rot but holy shit do I love all the potential of the AU you came up with, I can't stop thinking about it, I had to shake some of these ideas out of my brain to share!
Yes yes ABSOLUTELY YES
Also the fact that for pilots opening the chest plates is the same as open a door but for Cybertronians it means MARRY ME RIGHT NOW ahahahaha
(Or Amica endure too. But point stands hehe it's very intimate gesture)
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I Knew It Then
A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.
Summary: If it was supposed to be a casual thing, then why does it hurts so much?
Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader
Words: 4.8k++
Warnings: angsty, maybe a tad too angst. a bit fluffy, if you search for it, and everything in between. non-descriptive sex scene but definitely contain adult (18+) contents. so, reader discretion.
Inspiration: @buck-star asked in a community post, “The sentence is: 'And then we were standing in front of one another again…' How would you continue it?” and this is my answer.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
Bucky adjusted the sleeves of his jacket; a dark leather, matching the gloves he was wearing. Underneath was a charcoal coloured shirt; his pants was dark-wash jeans, frayed slightly at the edges. It was an effort to blend into the festive sea of people. Despite the spring air of Central Park, his style remained a mixture of shadowed past and muted present, a mix that barely fit in with the brightness of the day.
The launch of the Avengers statues was a grand event; a reminder of battles fought, lives saved, a place for the public to show their gratitude and admiration. Honestly, in Bucky’s opinion, all of this was a little bit over the top. In which, Steve agreed. They both think that they were undeserving to be sculptured and displayed like this.
Even the Avengers are human, excluding Thor, they were mortals; unfit to be worshipped as they are now. Yet, after being coaxed with quite a diplomatic, exaggerating speech about how ‘the people need a hero to look up to’, Steve ended up convinced. Not that it matters, but Stark was the one who gave that speech.
Nonetheless, Bucky couldn’t really object to the decision, but he did stated that he will not participate in the event with the rest of the team. And they can’t really do much about that, forcing him to will be equivalent to kidnapping and Bucky had literally filed a police report for it before. So, they won’t take their chances.
The cheers and thundering of applause rippled through the park, filling every space with a strange blend of solemnity and celebration. Bucky lingered on the edge, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders tensed beneath the weight of too many eyes while his own focused on his team on the make-shift stage near the statues.
He preferred it here. No red carpets. No standing in front of flashing cameras with a smile that would never sit quite right on his lips.
With less aliens around and Hydra in hiding, this should have been a familiar scene; the Avengers posing and the people cheering. But for Bucky, the novelty had long worn off. The noise washed over him like waves lapping against a shore he couldn’t care to meet.
Shifting on his feet, his fingers brushing against the worn leather of his gloves, as if the urge to retreat was creeping under his skin. The cheers, the bright flashes of cameras, all blended into a muffled hum that made him wonder how soon he could slip away unnoticed.
Until he saw her.
She stood beneath the shade of a blooming cherry tree, the soft pink petals floating down around her as if nature itself wanted to frame her as a living art.
Y/N.
Bucky's breath was caught somewhere between inhaling and exhaling. Her mere presence had left him frozen. Then, the noise of the crowd slowly fading, the applause turning duller as his heart pounded in his chest, each beat harder, louder, until it drowned out the world around him. For a few painful moments, he felt as if his heart might force its way free from his ribcage, breaking him apart in the process.
She wore that sundress again. The light fabric swayed gently with each breeze, caressing her figure, the pastel colour that reminded him of the flowers he used to get for her. It was the same dress she’d worn that day; the day he realised falling for her wasn't a choice but a reality that had already happened. He swallowed hard, memories surging in torrents. Her laughter echoed in his ears, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about things that mattered to her.
Now however, beneath the sweet sundress and that familiar grace, there was a darkness under her eyes. Shadows etched into her delicate skin, sadness lingering; still and silent, behind the gaze that once held nothing but warmth. Bucky's jaw tightened as he took it all in, every unspoken truth laid bare on her face. He knew why; he’d heard whispers through mutual acquaintances. About the heaviness she tried to mask, about the pain she tried to live through.
Seeing it now, in the flesh, was so much worse.
It broke him.
Again. His chest ached, a raw wound ripped within his chest; for every moment she suffered and every part of him that couldn’t fix it. Bucky wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. It was as if an invisible vine had him rooted on earth, willing him to witness the toll their separation had taken on her. How ironic, he thought bitterly. For someone once considered a ghost by the world, he was all too aware of how haunting it felt to see her pain in living colour.
The bar had been crowded that night when they met, laughter and music clashing together in a storm of contagious intoxication. Bucky found his usual spot in the corner, however unusually alone this time. His shoulders hunched beneath his leather jacket; his gloved hands nursed a drink he wasn’t truly interested in. He was simply another brooding man in a bar, trying to swallow his own bitterness, trying to forget. Elena’s words, his ex’s words, echoed in his mind; taunting and cold, leaving a metallic taste on his tongue.
“Mind if I sit?”
Her voice cut through the noise. He’d looked up, barely masking his surprise. The woman standing before him was... a force of nature. She didn’t wait for his permission and slid into the seat beside him, a confident smile tugging at her lips.
She was so bright, so unapologetically there.
It almost felt disorienting. Her eyes sparkled like she’d already decided he was interesting and wasn’t about to change her mind. “You always brood like this, or is it a special occasion?” she teased, tilting her head.
“Special occasion,” he replied dryly, a hint of sarcasm colouring his tone. “Guess I’m lucky, huh?”
She laughed, loud and unfiltered, drawing curious looks. “I’ll drink to that,” she said, raising her glass to him as if they were old friends sharing a private joke.
Bucky fought to suppress the twitch of his lips. He wasn’t sure what to make of her. “What brings you to this fine establishment?” he asked, his voice flat but not harsh. “Looking to rescue sad souls like me?”
“Rescue?” She leaned in, eyes dancing with mischief. “Please. I’m here for the entertainment value.”
“Brutal,” he said, but he couldn’t help it; the corner of his mouth lifted. A real smile was threatening to form.
Y/N, as she introduced herself a few moments later, was a whirlwind of honesty and charm. She spoke without hesitation, as if every thought had a right to be voiced. She teased him about the gloves he refused to take off, made a biting but hilarious comment about her friend’s taste in men as she watched her and the man grinding it on the dance floor, and then, out of nowhere, zeroed in on him.
She gestured to his drink. “Let me guess. Your ex. She, or he, I don’t judge…” A tiniest smile curved on the corner of his lips. “She.” he clarified which was replied with a glint of interest in Y/N’s eyes. She nodded, “Okay, she left you for someone who didn’t know how to brood so attractively.”
Bucky choked on his drink, laughter erupting before he could help himself. It was warm and a little bashful, completely genuine. He hadn’t laughed like that in... he couldn’t remember how long.
Y/N was not expecting much tonight. She was literally dragged by her friends to ’go out, meet people, get laid’. Truthfully, she wasn’t really expecting anything more than a few hours of banter and maybe some fleeting connection, just enough to make her smile. Witty remarks, a few drinks, teasing anyone interesting enough to engage; that was her aim.
But when she saw him, brooding in his corner, a storm trapped beneath layers of leather and cold eyes, curiosity overtook reason. She wanted to know if he would entertain her.
And he did.
Bucky or as he introduced himself, James, was sarcasm wrapped in shadows, his words carrying a sharpness that wasn’t meant to hurt, just to deflect. She found it oddly endearing, a defence mechanism she recognized all too well. She wanted to pull more from him, so she leaned in, laughed too loudly, pressed buttons she guessed would make him react.
At first, it was just fun.
But then he smiled. God, when he smiled, her world tilted; much against her will too. It was like the first hint of sunlight breaking through a dense, dark cloud. His laughter was warm and unpracticed, spilling out of him as if it surprised him too. The moment stretched, just for a heartbeat, but it was enough.
Her heart momentarily shuddered. She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks, blooming a soft pink she couldn’t hide. So, she covered it with more wit, more charm, desperate to keep that smile there a second longer.
“I’m kidding. Kind of,” she said, eyes softening as she studied him. “But seriously, imagine missing out on you. That’s just sad at this point.”
But underneath the humour, there was a flutter of something much profound. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Her heartbeat raced and she felt exposed. How ridiculous, she thought, to be undone by a smile; a real one, genuine and imperfect, just as raw as her own attempt to draw it out.
The concept of time blurred after that. Drinks flowed, words tumbled out like secrets they didn’t know they were sharing. Banter turned into stories, laughter into pauses that spoke louder than the music blaring around them. At some point, she reached for his hand, not caring that it was gloved or why. Her fingers lingered, hesitant for half a breath, before resting there as if they’d been doing so for years.
The air thickened and inches shrink.
When he kissed her, she found herself kissing him back with a need she hadn’t recognized before. It wasn’t about filling the void; at least, not only that. It was about the way he leaned into her touch, how he kissed like it was the last act that could hold him together. It was raw and open and imperfect and she was high on it.
Despite the fleeting, breath-stealing kisses they shared prior, Bucky had only meant to see her safely to her home. That was the plan, the line he swore he wouldn’t cross. But when her lips met his again just outside her apartment, everything unravelled. Her kiss was insistent, needy in a way that mirrored the ache deep inside him. She pulled him in, the door closing behind them, shutting out the world and any remnants of restraint he had left.
They stumbled to the bed, still fully dressed, every touch and kiss growing more urgent. Her hands found the edges of his jacket, fingers seeking to peel it away. But when she tugged, he pulled back, his breaths ragged. “Wait,” he murmured, eyes cast down. His hesitation was a stark contrast to the flames between them moments before.
She paused immediately, her gaze softening. “What’s wrong?” Her voice was gentle, careful not to push too hard but unwilling to let him slip away either.
“I’m not who you think I am,” he said, the words thick, heavy.
A crease formed between her brows. “What? Your name is not James?”
The question, so genuine and earnest, pulled a laugh from him; short, almost incredulous. “No. I am James, but…” He ran a gloved hand through his hair, avoiding her eyes.
“But…?” she prompted, leaning in, her attention unwavering.
“My name is James Buchanan Barnes,” he said, each syllable weighted.
For a moment, she was silent. He could see her piecing it together, searching for the meaning behind his words. Then understanding dawned, slow and certain. “You’re…” she began, just as he said, “The Winter Soldier.” But what came from her lips was, “The Avenger.”
They stared at each other, the tension snapping into something fragile, almost surreal. “What?” they both said in unison, the word a mix of disbelief and irony.
The absurdity of it cracked something inside him, and he laughed; a real, deep laugh that felt like a release. She joined him, their laughter intertwining in a way that felt like a mutual understanding. At the moment, Bucky realised that she didn’t flinch or shrink back. She met him where he was, without hesitation. He felt a pull; unsettling but oddly comforting; and, for a split second, he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be different.
The humour melted into something more intense as she leaned closer, her hands found his again. “I want this, James,” she whispered, peeling away his glove. She cupped his cool, metal hand, pressing his palm against her cheek. The contrast of warmth against vibranium made his chest tighten. “I want you.” she spoke almost breathlessly; her eyes gazed up at him with an endearing plea.
His eyes darkened with a mix of desire and something much softer, “I want you too,” he said, his voice low, unguarded.
They moved together, shedding barriers with every kiss and touch. When their clothes finally fell away, they explored each other with as much urgency and wonder. Every touch, every movement was deliberate, almost desperate. He wanted to memorise her reactions. He wanted to give as much as he could.
It was raw and consuming, a night spent discovering each other. There was nothing mechanical, nothing detached. For hours, it was just them, bodies moving in unison and their moans and groans of pleasure mingling in a symphony that can challenge a siren’s song.
He found himself lost in her, in the way her skin felt beneath his, in the way she moaned for him. He couldn’t hold back, not when she responded to him with such hunger, her body moving against his with a need that matched his own.
Every touch felt like a revelation, a new discovery, and he was pulled deeper into her, into the warmth and the rawness of the moment. It was as if time itself had stopped, and all that mattered was the heat of their connection.
When morning came, the light creeping in through the blinds, they lay bashfully, tangled in the sheets. For a few moments, there was only silence, a comfortable quiet punctuated by the slow return of reality. He turned to her, the words were heavy, he knew it, but he continued, “I’m not ready for… anything serious,” he admitted, hating the way it sounded, but knowing he owed her the truth.
She met his gaze, her expression soft and understanding. “That’s okay,” she said. “We don’t need to label it. It can be what it is.”
“Casual?” he asked, a hint of humour back in his voice.
She smiled, a touch of mischief in her eyes. “Casual.”
They both laughed, the sound soft and real. Whatever this was, for now, it was enough.
The next few months, their ‘casual’ arrangement became something she thought about far too often and yet tried to pretend wasn’t pressing too deep. The sex was undeniably great, almost maddeningly so. It wasn’t just the way he touched her, though that alone was enough to steal her breath; the careful, deliberate caresses that made her feel cherished and desired all at once.
It was the way he explored her as if every inch of her, the weight of his attention, the way he moved with a mix of tenderness and hunger, as if he couldn’t decide whether to worship her or devour her. And maybe that was why it was so intoxicating; because she was falling for him, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
It wasn’t just the physical connection; it was everything in between. She fell for the way he could be painfully serious one moment and then crack the most unexpected joke, a hint of dry humour lighting up his eyes. She fell for the way he made sure her tea was always brewed just the way she liked, even though he claimed to be terrible at domestic things.
She fell for his unspoken kindness; the way he would slip a blanket over her when she fell asleep on the couch, or his habit of standing protectively between her and crowded places without even thinking about it. It was all so subtle, so Bucky, and it deteriorated her defences bit by bit.
And Bucky on the other hand, tried not to let himself be too vulnerable around her. But Y/N had a warmth that made it hard for him to stay closed off. She didn’t push; she was just; a steady, comforting presence that felt like safety. Sometimes, without meaning to, he’d spill pieces of himself.
Like the night he told her about Elena; the betrayal, the gaslighting on how she cheated on him because of him; it was his trauma and depression that had driven her away. As if she was trying to make it worse, as if she had a vendetta to isolate him from everyone else.
And Y/N had listened without judgement, her eyes soft with compassion. “That’s not on you,” she had whispered, her hand covering his. “She was the problem, not you.” When the weight of his past grew too heavy, she was there.
And when she opened up about her own scars; the ex who wouldn’t leave her alone, the fear that lingered in the shadows; Bucky listened, fierce protectiveness hardening his features. That night, instead of touching each other’s body, they caressed each other’s innermost scars. They’d talk late into the night; their words heavy, but never too much for the other to bear.
And ever since their dynamic was a shifting dance, effortlessly dirty and playful one minute, his lips teasing at her neck, their words to each other were dripping with sin. The next, they’d be soft and tender, his forehead pressed to hers as they simply breathed together. And then there were the quiet, deep moments; when silence spoke more than words, and they found comfort just in being close, in the simple act of not being alone.
It was everything, all tangled together, and it made it so easy, too damn easy, to fall in love with him. She knew she shouldn’t, but with Bucky, it felt inevitable.
Then, one in those blissful days, after another night of incredible sex, Bucky laid beside her, his chest still heavy with the aftermath of their intimacy. His eyes traced the soft curves of her form as she rested, her skin glowing in the dim light.
She looked almost ethereal; untouchable, like something too perfect for him. The weight of her presence next to him was both comforting and painful, tightening his chest with a longing he couldn’t name. Shifting slightly, he cleared his throat, his voice rough when he finally spoke, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “I’m going back to Elena,” he confessed, the statement hanging heavily in the air.
For a moment, there was something in his eyes; a flicker of hesitation, of conflict, as if he desperately wanted to hold onto what they had, as if saying the words was a battle he was losing with every breath.
But whatever war raged within him never fully translated in the way she saw him. To Y/N, his words felt resolute, laced with a kind of tenderness that made it hurt even more. He seemed sorry; deeply, genuinely. But the weight of his decision pressed down between them, undeniable.
She went still for a moment and he could feel the tension radiating from her. The way her body seemed to freeze, her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t respond at first, her gaze distant, focusing somewhere far away as though she needed a moment to process. Bucky’s chest felt heavy with the weight of his own words, the urge to take them back gnawing at him.
Yet he kept his expression neutral, as if none of this hurt him. He needed to see this through, even if every second felt like he was tearing himself apart. “This…being here with you, touching you like this… this will be the last time,” he added, the sound of his voice was low but remained adamant.
Y/N had always known, somewhere deep down, that this day would come. They had both agreed that what they had was casual, temporary, nothing more than a passing thing. They had agreed their connection was fleeting; simply a series of borrowed moments. But even as she tried to convince herself it was fine, she knew better.
Nothing about what they shared was truly casual. They’d been there for each other in ways no one else had. When the world had been cruel to him, scrutinising him for his past as the Winter Soldier, she’d been his quiet strength, the one who never judged him, never flinched. And when her own demons resurfaced, casting shadows over her life; he’d been the one there, standing between her and her doom. He had been her rock, just as she had been his.
They were each other's strength, each other's solace.
'Has it ever really been casual?' But she couldn’t voice those thoughts. She wouldn’t burden him with her feelings when he already carried so much of his own. She wouldn’t beg for more than he could offer.
With a soft breath, she forced herself to smile, her fingers brushing over his cheek, committing every moment to memory before it slipped away. “Will this make you happy?” she asked, her voice steady, though pain lingered beneath the surface.
Bucky’s heart twisted, but he nodded, the lie coming too easily. “Yes,” he said, his voice lacking conviction even as he tried to seem sure. He averted his eyes, hoping she wouldn’t see past the facade.
Her smile wavered, but she fought to hold it in place. She wanted to show him that she was fine, that she wasn’t falling apart. But as she pressed her smile into place, a single tear slipped from her eye, tracing a quiet path down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, but it was already there; a silent confession of the pain he couldn’t see.
“Then, I guess this is goodbye,” she whispered, barely audible.
She leaned in, her forehead resting against his, her breath warm against his lips. And then she kissed him; softly, deeply, as if it would be their last.
Because, in this moment, it felt like it was.
The days blurred into weeks, and then months, each one dragging by with a dull ache that Y/N couldn’t shake. She buried herself in work, refusing to let her mind linger on what she’d lost. When that wasn't enough, she picked up freelance gigs; anything that kept her mind too occupied even thought about pain and the aching emptiness Bucky’s absence had left behind.
It was easier that way; easier to drown in deadlines and endless to-do lists than to confront the hollowness. And through all this time, there were not a single call, or texts from Bucky. Just silence. Rationally, she knew it was for the best. He was a hero, after all; his life pulled him in a thousand different directions. And she told herself she was fine.
But late at night, when the world grew quiet, she could still feel it; the loss that crept into her bones and refused to let go. Most of the time, she'd catch herself staring at the ceiling, replaying the touch of his hand, the sound of his laughter, the way he had looked at her as if she were his whole world, even if just for a moment. She tried to shake it off, to convince herself that it was all just an illusion, but the hole in her chest ached too deeply to ignore.
Time passed. The headlines told of his deeds; how he saved countless lives, how the public finally began to accept him, to see him not just as a relic of violence and pain, but as a hero. She should’ve felt proud. Maybe, on some level, she did. But every article, every broadcast, every mention of him only twisted the knife deeper.
At times, she’d pause whatever she was doing when his name flashed across the screen. It was a reflex, a sudden, uncontrollable urge to reach for something she could never have. She’d feel her chest tighten, her emotions were a blend of pride and pain. Why did she feel like this, like she wasn’t needed, like she was somehow unwanted by the man who had once looked at her like she was everything?
Even then, she couldn’t help but feel proud. No matter how much it hurts, she was happy for him. She remembered the sleepless nights when his past came alive in nightmares; when he’d thrash and murmur apologies with a voice cracked by guilt. She could still feel the weight of him in her arms as he clung to her in the dark, his breath shuddering against her neck, whispering, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” The memory of it made her chest ache; the rawness of his pain had always cut her deep, but it had also made her want to be his safe place, his haven.
She thought of those nights often. The way he’d hold her as if she were a shield against the ghosts that hunted him, how he’d bury his face in her shoulder to block out the world’s judgement. She’d whispered reassurances, stroked his hair, and wished she could take away every ounce of his pain. Seeing him now, standing tall, saving lives, and slowly being accepted by the world; it filled her with a bittersweet pride.
He deserved every bit of recognition, every chance to rebuild himself.
But the cost of that pride was the deep loneliness that came with it; the reminder that he was out there saving the world while she was left to save herself from missing him. She wanted to be enough, to be the one he leaned on, but it was clear now that his path led somewhere she couldn’t follow. So she pushed forward, forced herself to be strong, and told herself that being happy for him was enough.
When the crowd at the Central Park continued to roar with excitement, time seemed like it stopped for Bucky and Y/N. And then they were standing in front of one another again, the air between them held a weight, as if every word left unspoken all those nights was pressing against the space between them. Bucky’s eyes flickered; momentarily shocked, yet he didn’t falter.
Even then, Y/N saw it. She saw the look in his eyes that she knew too well, the look he had when it was just them, wrapped up in stolen hours that no one knew about. She forced a smile, warm and soft, the very same that she used to give him in those silent times, when their skins were pressed against each other, and everything else didn't matter.
His heart ached with a need he thought he’d buried. He thought he had let her go. He kept telling himself he was not in love, that she was just someone to keep his bed warm, to fill the empty space his past had left behind. At least, that was what he told himself, over and over, like a mantra meant to dull the edges of the truth.
But deep down, he knew it was a lie; a desperate deception crafted to shield him from the vulnerability clawing at his walls. He was not fooling anyone, not himself at least. Each night he spent denying the way his pulse quickened at the thought of her touch, each time he claimed he felt nothing, the thin layer of defence cracked beneath the weight of untold longing. It was easier to lie, to pretend he didn’t care, than to face the reality that she had carved her place inside him, far deeper than he wanted to admit.
Now, seeing her again, smiling at him as if it didn't shatter her heart when he left, it was like he’d been hollowed out.
And the time that seemingly stopped, abruptly resumed to its pace when they walked past each other. No words crossed their lips, but their eyes spoke a language that was theirs alone; a language that carried echoes of every touch, every laugh, every shared moment.
‘I miss you,’ their gazes whispered, even as the distance between them widened with each step.
They kept walking.
That night, Bucky found himself in front of her apartment. When she opened the door, it was as if she was expecting someone. Not him, but someone. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him standing there, broad shoulders taut and expression unreadable.
For a second, neither of them spoke. The sight of her; dressed in a fitted dress that draped elegantly over her figure, accentuating every line and curve, stole the air from his lungs. It was the kind of dress she used to wear when they’d go out on a date, the kind that never failed to send his thoughts swirling in the gutter. No thoughts, just lust.
She looked stunning. Ethereal even. But, painfully out of reach.
Y/N blinked. Shock, confusion, and hurt flashing in her eyes, as if the memories of what they’d had; and how it ended, came crashing back all at once. “Hey… James. What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice tight and Bucky was never used to it.
He swallowed hard, his eyes drifting to her lips and lingering there longer than he intended. “Out for a date?” he murmured, evading her question, the words tasting like lead.
“Yeah…Kind of.” she replied, guarded. Silence stretched between them, heavy with unsaid things. Finally, he spoke again, his voice a low rasp. “Can I come in?”
She studied him warily, the hurt in her eyes morphing into something sharper. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, James.”
“Please,” he said, and the desperation in his tone softened her resolve just enough. She stepped aside reluctantly. “You gotta be quick,” she said, almost dismissively. “Josh is on the way.”
The mention of another man’s name was like a knife twisting in his chest. Bucky forced himself to stay still, to not let his expression betray him, but inside, he felt raw, the bitterness coiling deep.
Once inside, she crossed her arms over her chest, a defensive barrier between them. “Talk,” she said flatly.
He paced, trying to find the words. “It wasn’t real,” he started, voice thick. “Me and Elena getting back together; it was a mission. She was suspected of being a mole.” he paused as he studied her reaction, ” We couldn’t risk telling you. We had to make it look real. ”
She stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief, as if trying to grasp the whirlwind of his sudden appearance. “You’re here for that? To explain yourself?” There was incredulity in her voice, mingled with raw, exhausted pain that came from reopening old wounds.
“Yes.” Bucky’s voice was firm but edged with something close to desperation. “We managed to capture her.” He took a deep breath, his gaze searching hers. “We had to keep the mission under wraps, Y/N. We couldn’t risk word getting out… not after what happened with S.H.I.E.L.D. We couldn’t have another Hydra situation, or anything that even looked like it.”
He paused, the tension in his jaw tightening. “It turns out her plan was to isolate me. To make me even more vulnerable than I already am, before they…” His words faltered, heavy and incomplete, as if finishing the sentence would make it all too real.
But he didn’t need to say more. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, the realisation clear in her expression. She was smart; too smart not to piece it together. She knew what Bucky feared most. He’d be dragged back into Hydra’s grasp, or worse, used as a pawn by some other twisted organisation.
It was a fate too cruel to name, and he could see in her eyes that she already understood.
Her brow furrowed, processing everything Bucky had explained thus far. A mixture of confusion and anger flitting across her features. “So that was it?” she demanded. “I was just collateral damage?”
“No,” he said quickly, the word breaking from him like a plea. “No. It wasn’t like that. I wanted to protect you. We all did.” He hesitated, voice dropping to a rough whisper. “I did.”
She scoffed, a bitter edge cutting through her words. “Unbelievable. I smiled at you one time, James—one time—and you think you can just come back into my life like you own it?”
The accusation hung between them, and the depth of her frustration was like a dam bursting. He recoiled slightly, horrified by the thought that he’d hurt her so deeply. “No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “That’s not what this is. I didn’t want to just—”
She cut him off with a sharp, biting word. “Bullshit!” The accusation hit him like a physical blow, but he pressed on, desperation bleeding into his tone. “I just wanted to tell you the truth,” he said, his voice tight with urgency. “That it was all fake.”
“Fake?” She echoed the word with a harsh, bitter laugh that rang with disbelief. It stung him, sharp as a slap across the face. “It looked pretty damn real to me, James. You don’t think I saw the pictures? The headlines? How you were with her?”
“It was a cover, Y/N. I didn’t have a choice.”
Her eyes flashed, anger and betrayal burning bright. She took a step toward him, as if the weight of her hurt couldn’t be contained. “You didn’t have a choice? You had a choice when you came to me, when you told me it was over. When you ripped my heart out, did you have a choice then?”
Bucky flinched, the impact of her words like a physical blow, but he held his ground. “I was trying to protect you.”
“By hurting me?” Her voice cracked, raw and trembling. “By tearing me apart?”
Silence crashed over them, heavy and suffocating. Her chest heaved, each breath ragged. “By leaving me behind?” she whispered, her words dripping with the weight of every unspoken wound. “By pretending like what we had meant nothing?”
He stepped closer, the space between them suffocating and electric. “It wasn’t nothing,” he said, his voice quivering. “It was everything. You were everything.”
She shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks unchecked. “I don’t believe you.”
With a trembling hand, Bucky reached for her face, cupping her cheeks as though she were something fragile. His thumb brushed away her tears, his touch reverent, aching. “I love you, Y/N,” he breathed, the confession breaking through the dam of his restraint. “From the start, when we laughed about that ridiculous introduction; me, calling myself the Winter Soldier and you insisting I was an Avenger—I knew it then.”
He swallowed hard, blinking through tears. “But it wasn’t just that. It was how you saw me; not the killer, not the broken man, but me. The way you’d smile at me, like I was worth something. The nights you stayed awake, holding me when I couldn’t breathe, when the nightmares felt too real. The way you’d whisper that I wasn’t alone. No one ever did that for me. No one.”
He paused, the rawness in his expression deepening. “I knew it was too late when I realized I’d been in love with you for a while. It hit me that day at Sally’s, remember?” His voice grew softer, distant with memory. “It was spring. You wore that sundress you bragged about getting for next to nothing at a thrift store. The sunlight made your hair glow, and you laughed at something ridiculous; a dog chasing bubbles, I think. I couldn’t stop looking at you. It wasn’t just the dress or the moment. It was the way you made everything feel… lighter. Like I could breathe again. Like the past didn’t own me.”
He let out a shaky breath, his thumb tracing along her jawline. “I realized then that I was in deep. That it was more than just a moment. And it terrified me, because I thought I’d ruin it. Ruin you.” His voice cracked, weighted with a mix of love and regret.
His shoulders shook as he let out a ragged breath, the tears spilling over. “It’s the way you laugh, the way you fight for everyone you care about. How you make me feel like I’m more than my past… God, I tried so hard to keep you safe. Even if it meant pushing you away. But it killed me, Y/N. Every day.”
She stared at him, stunned and raw, her own tears falling. His hands cradled her face gently, his touch trembling. “I love you,” he said again, more desperately. “I love you for every moment you gave me hope when I thought I couldn’t be saved. I love you for being there, even when I didn’t deserve it. And I don’t want to lose you again.”
He leaned in, their faces inches apart, his tears mixing with hers as he whispered, “I’m so sorry. For everything.”
She closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her, feeling the sincerity in every broken syllable. For a heartbeat, it seemed she would turn away. But then, her voice cracked, trembling with everything she’d buried. “I love you too,” she breathed, voice shaking. “I never stopped.”
His forehead touched hers, their breaths mingling, raw and vulnerable. Slowly, their lips met, soft at first, then deeper, a kiss that spoke of everything they had denied and everything they still longed for. In each other’s touch, everything else faded, leaving only the truth between them.
End.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
A/N: i was planning to do a descriptive smut scene at first, but after piecing everything from my draft and re-reading the overall flow, i don't think it's suitable to include it in this. perhaps another time, a side/extra story maybe. i hope y'all okay with that and enjoy your reading 🥺
#bucky barnes au#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky x reader fluff#bucky x reader angst#bucky x reader smut#bucky fluff#bucky angst#bucky smut#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes smut#avenger!bucky
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( letting my freak out here )
oh my days LUKAS FINGERS . LUKAS FINGERS . Holy shit bro plays the violin i think hes going to be SO good at fingering . He would know ALL the spots that makes you feel like your ascending to heaven . Like that one scene in blink gone I WANT HIS FINGERS TO ROAM OVER MY BODY 😍 oh lord im getting carried away so can i request A Luka from Alien Stage smut where he fingers us ? ? Im so down bad for him — AHEM im so sorry
YES OFC !! (so sorry for the late reply pls forgive me)
⋆⭒˚.⋆
luka x gn! reader
c.w: fingering, switch-luka x switch- reader, praise + degrading combo, frustrated jerking off, orgasm denial, orgasm, teasing, sweet sweet aftercare <3
MINORS DNI!!!
⋆⭒˚.⋆
"c'mon, baby," Luka's gentle voice rang through your brain like an echo, his gaze set on you in the dim lighting of his room. you tried focusing, really tried, but it was incredibly difficult to think about anything at all with his slender fingers knuckle-deep inside your weeping hole. "you want this, don't you? you want me to fuck you?"
you stared up at him through half-lidded eyes, panting and gasping for air. you writhed in ecstasy, mewling his name between desperate pleadings.
Luka tilted his head, gazing at you almost observingly. his fingers halted, pulling out slightly as if ready to leave. your eyes widen, sudden fear at the prospect of him leaving.
you sit up, desperately grasping his hand to prevent him from leaving. Luka grinned at your reaction, lifting his hand to lick his fingers clean.
"don't go," you stumble dumbly over your words. "please. please stay."
Luka chuckled almost mockingly, grinning at you.
"then say it. you want me to fuck you, don't you?"
you nod desperately, guiding his hand back to your weeping hole, thighs soaked in your release. "say it." luka demanded, dipping his forehead to rest against yours, refusing to slide his fingers back in. "say it. tell me you want me to fuck you. that's what you want, isn't it?"
"please," you whine with frustration. "please, fucking fuck me."
luka scoffed in amusement, a smile on his lips. "there we go, baby," he kissed your forehead rather tenderly, his fingers teasing your entrance before graciously rewarding you by pumping in slowly. He curled them just right, fingernails grazing your g-spot. "you want this?"
you gasp out his name, hips bucking up to meet his fingers. Luka hummed in appreciation, working his fingers in time with your bucking. "watch," his other hand reached down to palm himself, showing you his hardened cock. "you wanna watch me do it?"
your eyes widened in awe, frantically nodding.
Luka chuckled in amusement, carefully untucking his hardened cock from their confinement, jerking himself off for you. his brows furrowed, cheeks flushing and eyes half-lidded.
his cocky demeanor was gone within an instant.
you watched as Luka rutted his cock into his hand, hips stuttering as he chased his own orgasm. Luka shook his head at himself, brows furrowing as he huffed. Luka ignored his cock, the way it throbbed with needed and pre-cum glistened at his tip. It dribbled down the underside, down to his balls.
Luka whined with need, yet he focused on your needs.
His fingers worked in and out of you, all while he teased your nipples or worked your leg around his waist or atop his shoulder.
"you're doing amazing," Luka panted. "whenever you're close, tell me."
he worked his fingers in perfect rhythm, not too fast and definitely not too slow. Once you were close and told him, Luka's fingers worked at an almost inhumanely rapid pace. Luka lowered his head, pleasuring you with his mouth and fingers at the same time.
as soon as you came and he worked you through it, he took care of his own needs. he firmly and frustratedly fucked himself, gasping and whining your name.
Still panting for air, you reach out and help him jerk off.
"please," Luka nearly sobs out. "Please, baby, please. Please, I'm--"
he cries out, cum splattering. Luka ruts his hips with need, forehead tucked into your shoulder as he gasps for air.
after carefully and tiredly cleaning each other, Luka fell asleep with his face buried in your chest, your warmth and arms his sanctuary.
⋆⭒˚.⋆
-venus
(sorry if it was a little weird or ooc :<)
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my mouthwashing characters headcanons :3
Daisuke ><
Japanese from his mom and filipino + mexican from his dad
Grew up in japan until he was three, before moving to hawaii. Speaks japanese, english and a tiny tiny bit of spanish.
If im not wrong, hes rather rich, so he never really had money problems before.
Only child, even if he sometimes wished he wanst.
HE HAS A TONGUE PIERCING.
He often have tension with his mom, since shes rather strict, and often wants him to follow the path she trace for him.
Is a mitski fan and have gone to two of her concerts
Still secretly have plushies from when he was little
Was kinda a smart kid at school
Has a biggg collection of yaoi and yuri (that he hide from his mom)
HES SO GYARUO CODED
Tried playing re2 remake, stopped when mr x started going at him bc it was stressing him out
Definitely watched alien stage and cried his eyes out
Smells like soft citrus and a tiny bit of weed
says random brainrot quotes during the day (hes just like me fr)
Pansexual, fight me
Anya <3
Slavic/russian (she also give off french vibes but idk) but lived in london before going to work on the ship.
Lesbian, but before moving out of her parents house she had to hide it from them bc they were really conservative and religious, even if she discovered she was gay at like 12
Loves those old movies from the 70s or with a same vibe like girl, interrupted or movies with shelley duvall.
She lovesss dazey and the scouts
Did ballet when she was little
Knows how to play piano and violin
Have a black cat name midi 🙏🏻🙏🏻
Likes horror in general but get scared
Has insomnia
She have *hematophobia (just like me fr🗣️🗣️)
(*fear of blood,wounds or very gore things)
Smells like rubbing alcohol and lavender.
Curly (big tits)
British and german
He gives off very very heterocurious vibes.
Gymbro i fear.
Smells like vanilla.
Freaking huge, like, everywhere.
Knows jimmy since their last year of highschool. Gone to the same college as him and all.
Is such an enabler of rape and all that shit OH MY FREAKING GOD. I think that even if he respect women, he still have those Misogynistic stereotypes in his brain. People need to get that hes not the good guy in mouthwashing. (i still love him tho)
like jazz
Have a phobia of snakes..
Has a dad bod ngghhh..
Has kind of a big family (2 sisters and 3 brothers.)
Is such a people pleaser omfg.
Jimbalaya...
American, and a lil bit of turkish origins (from his dad)
(Tw for this one : sa, incest,pedophilia, child abuse) I hc that younger his dad sa'ed him. His life was a terrible hell before having the legal age (and even after) to get out of his family. He got abused in so many ways bruh. (doesnt make any of his actions anymore valid ofc)
Also got several girls pregnant before anya, he guess most of them aborted, but he never bothered or cared to check if he got a kid or not..
Had a BIG nirvana phase in his teenage years. Also hate those people who wears those preppy nirvana shirts.
Smells like cigarettes and cheap cologne
doesnt really gaf about his hygiene most of the time
Attempted several times, curly was the one stopping him most of the time.
Type of guy to say "OF detected, opinion rejected" on a random girl page then get an Subscription to the said girl OF 10min later..
Was half joking about the cartoon horses thing..☹️
fucking hate kids
Has a little sister tho, which is, surprisingly, surely one of the only thing he genuinely care about, always was worried for her when he left the family home and has to leave her alone with their parents.
Is kinda homophobic asf but fetishize lesbians (my nightmare).
Has SEVERE religious traumas and mommy issues.
Swansea (Hold on Swansea, im 𝓒𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓼)
American and australian
Have 3 kids, two daughters and one son, also love his wife so freaking much
Play candy crush and those shitty random mobile games
Smells like a hint of metal and axe deodorant
Dog person
Is such an old man, daisuke always have to explain to him what to do when it comes to things like smartphones,internet,pcs 😭
Was in the football team of his highschool younger
Is so loud in the bathroom at like 6am for no freaking reasons omfg, average dad experiences
Use "👍🏻" for Everything
thats all i have for him im sorry 😔
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#daisuke mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#mouthwashing hcs#daisuke#anya#Jimmy#Swansea#Curly#indie games
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Can you do alst boys x reader in that is like Mafuyu from pjsk (you don’t have to)
i act like i don't feel this way with you !

☆ thinking abt a mafuyu—like reader . . .
☆ various alien stage characters ,, gn reader . . is this my cue to come out as a project sekai fan? ,, this can be interpreted as both a modern au and a regular alnst universe work ,, reader is based off of mafuyu asahina from the game project sekai.
luka would see a hint of himself within you. your picture—perfect achievements, demeanor, it reminds him of himself. he can sense that faint, odd air that surrounds you, the small reflection of your true self that seeps into the cracks.
because of your similarities, you find yourself getting along with luka whilst simultaneously having formed some sort of rivalry with him. he was created to be perfect, meanwhile you are just naturally perfect — as perfect as humans and synthetic ones can get, that is.
nonetheless, whenever the two of you aren't competing, you actually get along. neither of you talk much, but the silence that engulfs the two of you is comfortable.
till isn't sure how to feel about you. the things you achieve are a little bit too great, and you pull them off way too flawlessly. you usually keeping to yourself isn't something that bothers till though, he can understand it.
you're unsettling, in a way, in till's eyes but he can't say he doesn't admire your talent — well, talents. it seems like you have several. on the rare instance that he decides to reach out to you, the air is rather awkward. you aren't an individual of many words and till really just doesn't know what to say to you.
he'll hesitantly approach you, his body stiff as he asks for a word of advice. as much of an oddball as you are to him though, till doesn't think you're too bad.
ivan, too, finds you odd. but he's intrigued — every time you're around, his eyes are on you. watching how you do everything with ease but how something within you changes whenever someone ropes you into an unexpected conversation. you become more stiff, more uncertain, stark in contrast to how you behave when you are left alone.
weird as it may sound, ivan observes you as if you're some sort of lab rat. he can't help but want to figure out what it is that makes you tick, how you manage to juggle being good at so many things all at once. he has a lingering feeling that it's hard and stressful even for you, though.
as for how you and ivan would interact, however, he makes you feel a bit uneasy. he's always looking at you so closely, picking his words so carefully. it causes your mind to wrack, trying to figure out if he's up to something — but the more you get to know him and vice versa, you find out that all he wanted was to know you better.
hyunwoo admires your expertise in several fields. he thinks you're pretty cool for being able to excel at so many things and might even approach you from time to time.
he'll speak to you as if you've known each other for a while now. his body language is a casual, lax one, the complete opposite of yours — reluctant, slightly on guard. hyunwoo can sense it, hence why the next time he strikes up a conversation with you, he'll tone everything down a notch even if he isn't a particularly overwhelming individual.
slowly but surely, you'll start to warm up to hyunwoo. he's been pretty laid—back from the start so nothing much changes in regards to his behavior. over time, you learn that he's a reliable, nice person, prompting the two of you to become quite close.
dewey doesn't acknowledge you much. he knows your name, recognizes your face, will admit that you're a jack of all trades and master of plenty.
but he never really goes out of his way to befriend you — and honestly, you're sort of glad he doesn't. the two of you are polar opposites. he's more outgoing, more brawns than brain, someone who would send your senses into overdrive the second he starts talking to you.
the few times you do talk, dewey doesn't even notice how apprehensive you seem to be. he just goes on and on, talking about whatever has been on his mind lately and asking you a couple of questions to make sure you're still engaged in the conversation.
isaac is someone who you see hanging around dewey rather often, which causes you to assume that he is probably just as overzealous as his friend. right?
wrong. similar to hyunwoo, isaac's behavior is leaning towards the down to earth side, the only difference being that he isn't as extroverted. not that you mind, though.
your conversations tend to be pretty short and blunt. neither of you are the type to sugarcoat things, deciding to be honest instead — there are plenty of people in this word who would take offense to that bluntness, but the two of you understand each other in a way that no one else does.
#⠀⠀⠀⠀Ꮺ heartz4luka#⠀⠀⠀⠀Ꮺ heartz4till#⠀⠀⠀⠀Ꮺ heartz4ivan#⠀⠀⠀⠀Ꮺ heartz4hyunwoo#⠀⠀⠀⠀Ꮺ heartz4dewey#⠀⠀⠀⠀Ꮺ heartz4isaac#alien stage#alnst#alnst x reader#luka alien stage x reader#luka alnst x reader#till alien stage x reader#till alnst x reader#ivan alien stage x reader#ivan alnst x reader#hyunwoo alien stage x reader#hyunwoo alnst x reader#dewey alien stage x reader#dewey alnst x reader#isaac alien stage x reader#isaac alnst x reader
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Ok, so I think I'm slightly ready to talk about the comic (really I'm not but my brain has been thinking about them for an hour straight I have to let some of it out) This comic answered a hundred questions in my head and in the process produced a thousand more to replace them. The exploration of hyuna's thoughts as she was dying, it's so wonderfully complex and exactly what I expected out of vivinos.
Hyuna's feelings towards Luka is less so "I want to hate you, but I can't", rather it's "I hate you, you caused me so much pain and yet at the same time I pity the things that caused you to do this to me and I still care about you". A popular opinion is that as Hyuna spun Luka around her intent was revenge, and my 2 cents on it is that yes payback was part of it, but her kneejerk reaction was to save him.
There's still no official confirmation for Luka's role in Hyunwoo's death but he holds a major part in it. Hyuna cared deeply for her brother; it's no wonder she would hold bitter feelings towards someone who caused her to lose someone she loved. Hyuna knew that Luka loved her more than himself; she knew that she was the only person whose death would make him feel anything, not even his own. So she let herself get shot, made him lose the one person who ever made him feel human, made him feel the human grief of watching someone you care about sacrifice themselves, made him understand how the other performers on stage felt as they watched their friends die in front of them. This was her revenge, letting him feel the same pain she did, the same pain he inflicted on so many others on stage.
But at the same time, Hyuna isn't cruel. Her character is about love, love for humanity and the hope for freedom. As she heard that bullet fired, her first thought wasn't to make him suffer, it was to protect him. That she didn't want to see him die. Because watching him bleed out would cause her so, so much pain. It could be considered selfish, as she is the head of the resistance and he is the alien overlord's favourite pet, the person symbolizing the thing she swears destroy and never return to. But for someone who loves the world so selflessly, her love for Luka is and always has been selfish, and so is her resentment. He is her only weakness, the only person she would sacrifice her life for to teach the meaning of loss and pain.
She tells him that she leaves a puzzle for him to solve, which can be interpreted as figuring out human emotions for the first time. She understands him well enough to know that it will work, for he loves her more than anything else and loves her enough to at least try and move on like she wishes him to. Perhaps he may never find the answer, perhaps he might die before he has the opportunity to, but Hyuna knows he will try desperately, that perhaps in the process he could be given the chance to be human, as he deserved to.
She didn't let herself get shot for the satisfaction of watching him cry for the first time, she died because she loved him and wanted him to come to understand grief and gain the ability to move on, things that he was deprived of since his birth. She never forgave herself or Luka over what happened, but she wanted him to learn to forgive himself, so that maybe he could do what she couldn't. She knew she didn't have to ask him for forgiveness; his love for her poured out of him like water, he could never hate her for the selfish thing she did. So maybe Hyuna died with bitterness lingering towards him for what he did, but ultimately she came to peace with the fact that she loved Luka, that she would die for him, that only he could bring her back to the damned alien stage as her burial ground.
Y'all I nearly cried writing this, can I PLEASE do a self indulgent post next about how pure Luka's love towards Hyuna is I DONT WANT TO DEAL WITH THE COMPLEXITIES OF HUMAN EMOTION IM BARELY HANGING TOGETHER RIGHT NOW

Here have a stupid lil image of them (sorry Hyuna isn't coloured in I know it's really bad but when all you can think about is how tragic they are all I want to do is draw them happy for the rest of eternity)
#alien stage luka#alien stage hyuna#hyuluka#alien stage#hyuna's feelings towards luka i cant even pretend to fully understand#i willingly inflict torture on myself#im going to write a modern au where theyre both happy#instead of this shitty ass thing#where hyuna's dead#and luka's falling apart#i need to stop thinking about them#hopefully this post is enough#analysis#character analysis#alnst analysis
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Here's a WIP list of my ideas for a full year of monthly writing events!
If you have any suggestions *please* feel free to send them in :D
Not everyone has free time to do a full 30k in November in particular, and the key of learning to write consistently...... is consistency!
Writing in earnest for just one month out of the year doesn't give you much practice, does it?
But 30k every single month can be exhausting an daunting!
So, here's my WIP proposal....
------
January [15k total / 500 each day]-- Public Domain-Day Dash -- On January 1st, pick a brand-new Public Domain work, read/study it for a week while brain storming, then spend the next three weeks writing 5k words to make by the end of the month a 15k word short story, adapting that PD Work into another genre / time period / etc. February [20k total / ~714 Each day ] -- Freedom February -- Black History Month. Each week, write 5,000 words each week celebrating freedom from tyranny in all its forms. March [9,300 total / 300 each day] -- Spring Equinox -- Each day, write 300 words based on the concepts of warmth, renewal, rebirth, changing of the guard, etc. April [8k total / ~285 per day] -- April Fools -- Each week, write 2k words of a comedy short story, to end the month with 8k words of comedy. May [6,200k total / 200 each day] -- International Workers Celebration -- Each day, write 200 words about a character in your line of work (or a nonfiction diary/article) and what you enjoy about it and how it keeps the world turning, or saving the world in some emergency, then take some time to relax, you've earned it! June [15k total / 500 each day] -- Pride Month -- write 500 words each day, either fictional or nonfictional, about queer history, pride, solidarity, or intersectionality. July [15.5k words total / 500 each day] -- Disability Pride Month -- Each day, write 500 words about your favorite genre, from the perspective of a disabled character (or a character with your own disabilities), and what kind of accommodations they use in their daily lives, without magically erasing their disability. August [15.5k words total / 500 each day]-- Alien August -- Aliens have invaded! Pick your favorite genre, and each day, write 500 words of that genre, with a plot that gets interrupted by an alien visitation! September [60-100 Pages / 2-3 each day] -- Scripting September -- Each day, write 2-3 script pages for an audio-drama, stage-play, or movie/tv show, to end the month with a 60 to 100 page script. October [20k total / 714 each day] -- Ominous October -- A choice of themes will be decided on before October, two options for each week, and everyone will write a 5k word short horror/spooky story each week, that all get posted on October 31st / Halloween
November -- Novella November [30k total / 1k each day]-- Write 1k words a day to reach 30k words by the end of the month. You can write a 30k word novella, use it as the start of a larger novel, write a series of short stories (such as writing a 7.5k word short story per week), etc. [30k total / 1k each day] December -- Don't Touch It December [6,200k total / 200 each day] -- this is your month of relaxation! Write just 200 words per day about anything you enjoyed / are proud of from the past year, and what you are looking forward to in the future! [6,200k total / 200 each day]
If you prefer to focus on just the longer challenges and spend the other months editing, we can also have mirror events each month for different ways of editing with community support!
Things like Beta reader swaps, doing cover mockups, localization help for those not writing in their first language, etc!
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following the very funny take that L just speedran his feelings for light from denial to acceptance over the course of the tennis game alone, i do think that even if L was somehow aware of the fact that his feelings verged on less-platonic he wouldn't necessarily see them as being requited. or alternatively, that if they are, light is too much of a repressed freak to ever get over his own bullshit enough to make it actually happen.
like i said in my own tags, this perhaps is another anime/manga difference to me. to elaborate...
in both cases, i think it starts off mostly the same: L's interest is Piqued when he realizes KIRA might actually be a human person, with the high of that feeling hitting its peak during lind l tailor as his theories are confirmed -> L's feelings about KIRA develop/are further complicated as he starts investigating light specifically. personally, i think he starts getting Interested™ while stalking him through the cameras in their house & seeing how he acts under the mask, realizes his feelings are Developing in a way he didn't expect the more he watches, and is fully in the Annoyance/Denial stage when he's autism staring at him throughout the testing sequence (could still vary) -> he works through/accepts it by the end of the tennis game, like a kind of background process monologue, maybe capping off specifically when light beats him.
following this, it seems natural to me that there would be a period where L furthers his investigation on light as KIRA while simultaneously also kinda trying to figure out how DTF he is. he's already pretty certain about the former point so a lot of this is just checking his work, watching very carefully to see if he can push light into losing his cool again and giving himself away, which has the additional side effect of pushing his newly developed crush to the front of his brain on a regular basis through sheer necessity.
this all comes to a head w/ misa's arrest. again, at some point throughout this time frame i think L starts putting enough pieces of the Light Yagami puzzle together to start figuring out that he's either 1. not interested entirely, or 2. never gonna fucking admit anything truthful about who he actually is, ever, even to himself. perhaps the next planned step of L's approach would be to push light into telling the truth or revealing something genuine about himself period, even outside of the KIRA investigation itself, but this gets fucked up by light's little memory loss/alternation plan.
yotsuba is interesting because it obviously gets to L quite a bit, showing aspects of his character that we don't really see outright before that point. it is well known that L is a filthy little liar, and that he specifically uses his lies as a way of testing light, but i think yotsuba is when he kinda. gives up on that. in a way, light is being fully truthful during yotsuba, it's just that what he believes to be truth has been manipulated beyond what's usually humanly possible. so L gets what he wants but it's a twisted version of it, and still misses the key component that drew him towards light in the first place (KIRA).
he's grumpy, basically. his toys aren't working the way he wanted them to, so he's throwing them at the wall and demanding that they fix themselves again. as i said before, L is simultaneously incredibly alienated from (the rest of/his own) humanity and directs his entire focus on it- he's the world's greatest detective, not out of empathy or sympathy for human suffering, but because people are the most interesting/complex puzzle he's ever come across and the scale of mass murder makes his dick harder than anything else.
in a way, you could see him locking light away in this shitty little constantly watched cell/literally holding him on a handcuff leash at all times as L's attempt to recreate the feelings that started popping up while he was watching light in his house the first time, seeing the seeds of a serial murderer in his little perfect teenager pet. the most notable shift throughout all of this though is the fact that L starts telling the truth- to bring this classic panel back,

he's not bothering with the "ooo sounds like something KIRA would say," shtick now. honestly the only other time someone really gets this blunt about telling light he's KIRA to his face is near:

(think this might be my favorite near panel ever lmfao. finally found it in ch.80 =3=)
point is, L is both pissed and genuinely kind of depressed throughout most of yotsuba, or at the very least has been annoyed into spitefully shucking off all his duties cuz he doesn't wanna play the game anymore. childish, and a sore loser- just like he said.
ANYWAYS. the differences between the anime and the manga, right.
the main way this diverges is that i think L is definitely aware of his feelings in the anime. all of the evidence for this comes down to episode 25- the rain scene, the foot washing, "Have you ever told the truth once in your life?" and so on and so forth. part of this may actually follow the divergences of light's characterization between the anime and manga, but L is almost certainly talking about something that light isn't willing to admit during these scenes and it's motivating a lot of his hardest lines.
again, it's the two cases: either he's morose about the fact that his feelings are unrequited and kicking back as a final fuck you for getting pulled around for so long, or (and personally, i kinda think this is more likely) he is aware of the fact that light does like him back in that way and Supremely salty about the fact that he won't ever act on it. "It will be lonely, won't it," etc. etc. "You're gonna fucking miss me, bitch. You don't have to do this but you're going to tear us apart anyway, and I don't forgive you, never will." light is putting the game above them, and L is fucking mad about it lol.
sidenote: it's interesting that the tennis game itself kind of parallels/foreshadows L losing in this way. as i've said before, in the tags on some fucking post i don't even remember now, light knows throughout the tennis game that winning might add to his KIRA percentage (though it is admittedly still quite vague), but he chooses to go for it anyway. just can't stop himself from winning, even if it goes against him and everything he actually wants... some classic light yagami shit right there.
in the manga this is a lot less clear, specifically because we are lacking these scenes in particular. L's death just happens so goddamn quick in the manga, it rushes up and catches him by surprise basically the second he lets his guard down and stops watching light, so we don't get this same drawn out saltiness as he metaphorically bleeds out. this is not to say it isn't present entirely- much of the above analysis still applies to the manga just as much as the anime, but it is perhaps a lot more subtle to follow by the end.
honestly, that all being said, i think manga L is also a lot more likely to simply never figure his shit out when it comes to light. it's a particularly interesting part of canon to me that both of these interpretations actually seem to work equally well when it comes to L, that he is either fully aware for most of the series about his feelings or entirely unaware and never bothers to reflect or consider it. says something about his character i guess, that he still manages to hide or cloud so many of his internal thoughts that shit like this can be pretty ambiguous and still feel kind of core to his character.
anyways, thanks again to @ai-the-broccoli and that original post for kicking this particular essay off, as well as everyone else who responded for getting my brain rolling this time around :)
#death note#lawlight#astronaut rambles#just a possible approach lol there's obviously a lot of room for interpretations w/ shit like this#:)) ohh light yagami...#l lawliet#i always get so caught up in finding my manga caps that i lose steam midway through an essay like this alskdfjaskldfjk. oops#got through it though yippeee#light yagami
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SON OF ARES
INZO
INFO:
He/him/It/its, AMAB
Human
6'4" and 210lbs
Owner is Scistrae
Brand is across his chest above his heart
TRIVIA:
He is the youngest sibling to Vant's family of Tov, Wren, and Cato. And he lucked out with the best genes /silly
Is aware it and Cato are brothers. Doesn't know about Wren and Tov..................yet.
Has an odd relationship with Demi (read: situgaytionship)
Autistic
It has the same owner as Toki. No it does not know about Toki, but Scistrae loves Inzo a lot more than Toki.
He is a fucking UNIT. and he makes sure everyone fucking knows this because he FIGHTS.
The Crashout™ of Season 41.
Always collared and has been locked up Till Style on multiple occasions.
He fights due to immense anger issues caused by severe emotional regulation (autm,,...autmim...)
He finds fighting to be a good outlet and loves it more than anything, honestly. He's the type of guy to have fun and laugh while throwing punches. Like fighting is a game.
Demi is it's favorite opponent. its very homoerotic
Actually pretty chill outside of it's temper. It may get worked up easily and have very low patience, but people around it have learned to just... not rile him up. Which is actually really easy to do.
So he's just a guy more often than not.
He is a jersey type beat. just. full stop. he is the jersey beat period.
Fighting is a dance form to him.
Types of fighting include whatever the fuck he got from reading books. More often than not, it's martial arts. This is because martial arts are written down a lot more than something like boxing. so theres no specific art he's a master of, its just a mix of a bunch of things hes read about
A massive fucking math nerd. He loves math and numbers. Finds itself counting a lot and solving problems in his head almost as a form of stimming.
That was the other thing, fighting is like stimming to him LMAO. i mean it has to be if its what helps him regulate his anger.
It has vitiligo, obviously, but it's genetically modified to be more randomized instead of in usual spots (hands, around the eyes, around the mouth, etc etc.) and is also a combination of both scalp and skin vitiligo. I don't remember the names of the specifics, but I know that they are separate and it's very rare to be born with both. But..... Inzo has both.
Idk man he's so pretty i love it so much im so proud of it.ahhagagdhf
OTHER:
gaybyoy.
his genetics in general are pretty rare considering his eyes are a lightish green.
inzo being siblings with tov, wren, and cato was completely like. vant offhandedly mentioned that because of the vitiligo and autism, inzo could totally be a part of the family and im like hell fucking yeah.
cryinrg this is so funny to me
im gonna be so honest i kept forgetting to do this so im so sorry that it looks like ass. im focused on a lot of different things at once,,, euueueue
Demi belongs to @lulling-riot / @/alien-til-i-stage gay gay homosexual gay
Tov, Wren, and Cato belong to @ivanttakethis hi vant ily vant
@apple8ees @chevalperd @bluemoonscape @rockwgooglyeyes @apriciticreveries @junebluues @awaggaa @messengers-of-the-gods @friedclownshrimp @starry-skiez @yunoftheclouds
my brain is hurting too much i mightve forgotten to tag someone,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

also me when i lie
#zen's alnst oc lore/notes/logs#zen's alnst art#alien stage#alnst#alnst oc#alnst ocs#alien stage oc#alien stage ocs#alnst oc: inzo#alnst oc: demi#alnst oc: tov#alnst oc: wren#alnst oc: cato#alnst s41#alnst fan season 41#alien stage s41#alien stage season 41
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I also tried to read Leviathan Wakes because I saw it was a show and I hated it, tbh 😭 do you know any sci fi that isn’t misogynist? I want to like the genre more..
disclaimer it has been several years since i was seriously into scifi so i can't 100% vouch for these and your mileage may vary. but here are some favorites off the top of my head!
blindsight by peter watts - one of my favorite books of all time. existential space horror scifi about a guy with half a brain on a ship sent out to make first contact, with a handful of other chosen/altered humans. and a vampire. the freeze-frame revolution by the same author is also good if you want a shorter read, its about a crew on an intergalactic ship that stages a revolution during the short time periods they're allowed to be awake.
machineries of empire trilogy by yoon ha lee - military scifi with a disgraced lesbian MC (no romance) who has to redeem herself by capturing a fortress through some of the most insane and strange combat i've ever encountered in scifi. verrrry creative and unique and ambitious. the definition of innovative. did not enjoy books 2 and 3 as much as the first, but still very worthwhile, even if you only ever read ninefox gambit.
warchild by karin lowachee - space scifi about a deeply traumatized child who comes of age amid an interstellar war, who has to become both a living weapon and a master spy. i remember really loving the alien language present in this book and how it encouraged the reader to learn it while reading along. also another case of not liking books 2 and 3 as much as the first, but warchild is 5 stars to me. heads up for graphic and mature themes, though iirc warchild doesn't go into it with as much detail as cagebird.
the ophiuchi hotline by john varley - space scifi published in 1977 that reads surprisingly modern and has some fascinating depictions of gender and sex changes, with a very interesting female MC. the plot itself is very strange, something about signals being sent from an unknown deepspace entity. i've been meaning to read more from this series.
ancestral night by elizabeth bear - another space scifi with a lesbian MC with fantasy elements, about a crew of deepspace salvagers who come across a terrible crime in the dark recesses of the galaxy. i remember not caring much for the love interest and don't think it really hits romance territory, but everything else really worked for me: from a complex MC who carries deep issues and uncertainties, weird spacetime stuff, weird alien concepts, little bits of gender nonconformity, and bear's lovely descriptive writing. definitely slower-paced at times.
#hope there's something here you might like!#book recs#book thoughts#scifi#i am getting back into scifi this year i prommy
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A/n: i don't know what this is but... I wrote something, woo? (This does not mean I'm back, this is literally the first thing I've written in god knows how long because I'm so frazzled atm and I doubt my brain will let me write anymore) thank those new photos of Matty in that grey shirt for whatever this is. P.s I've literally just wrote this before Im posting it so it has not been spell checked and probably has loads of grammatical issues lol. Love you byeeeee - Lou
Sweat still drips down his forehead, running along his cheek tortiously slow. Your eyes are focused, following the line, eyes landing on his upper lip and never leaving it. Even when his there, right in front of you, one hand clamping around your waist in an attempt to pull you closer. Your own hands find his shoulders in response to the squeeze he delivers to your waist. A simple "you alright love?" falling from his lips, those same lips that you can't stop staring at.
Well actually it's just above the plump, red mouth that moves temptingly. A strip of hair you swore you hated at first, a fact you let him know, plenty. But tonight (and even before that), Matty with his tight grey shirt on and hair perfectly styled... Well you certainly didn't hate it now.
"come with me" the words leave your mouth heavily, laced with something more, something that sounds like "Matty I want you" to his ears. Your small hands tug him through the corridors back stage, he knows the way without looking, eyes trained on your lips now, all smirky and up to something.
"baby I've barely got off stage" he mumbles when you open the door to his dressing room. You push against his chest, the same chest that's been straining against the fabric of his shirt ever since he stepped foot on that stage.
"exactly" one more push and he's landing on the sofa with a little "omph". You're with him in a split second, legs hooking over his thighs one by one and lowering yourself until he can feel you pulsing above him and you can definitely feel him.
Hard and heavy and desperate. The few words you've uttered and the looks you've been throwing his way, definitely doing their job well.
"you looked so good tonight" you say, head finding a comfortable place by his throat, sucking and biting, drawing low grunts from his throat.
"just tonight?" He says. Oh he's in a mood, wanting you to tell him how bad you want him. And you'll tell him, of course you'll tell him.
"no... Not just tonight" your words aren't what makes his hips thrust up, it's the way after you say them your mouth finds his upper lip. Your tongue swipes over the hair and his hips work on their own accord.
It fucking kills him, makes him buck up and swear and grab your own hips, pining then down against his own and forcing you to roll them.
"fuck" he says, head moving up, further into your lips and tongue.
"thought you hated it" he says, straining his neck more until his mouth captures yours. You want to reply but his own tongue finds yours and your words get caught in your throat, if not for a moment..
Your lips separate with a smack and your eyes fall to his moustache again, coated in a mixture of you and him, a filthy mix that makes your hips roll against him and a moan to slip.
"definitely don't hate it then" he says with a smirk. You smile at him, thumb slowly running across the hair, collecting the mix and bringing it to your mouth. You slip it between your lips as you shake your head.
"definitely don't hate it" you confirm.
"fuck you're perfect" he waits until your thumb has slipped from your mouth and tugs you back, tongue meeting yours again and hips bucking.
Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @promocodesorry75 @eaglestar31 @thefrontofmymind @fallingforel @partoftheairforce @procrastinatinglikeapro @poisonmedaddy13 @xthe1975 @all-things-fic @jstbeeingme @rossgirly @juliardk @you-muppet @moodyyyychickx @k4tie75 @insidemymind19 @zzzhealy @maybeiwouldlikeyou @at-her-very-foreign @not-alien-girl-v (add yourself using the link in my bio 😊)
#i dont know what this is but its something#wow i actually wrote something#the 1975#matty healy#matty healy smut#matty healy fanfic#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fic#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 fic#the 1975 smut
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hiii i have a parx request!!
i am in desperate need of reader dying awstens hair or doing his makeup for when he goes on stage 🧎♂️
Banana Peels - Awsten Knight x Reader
Word Count: 1158
A/N: Rahhh so cuteeee I need more parx requests hehe
The air backstage was a whirlwind of energy—roadies rushing around, cords tangled in impossible knots, and the muffled sound of the opening band leaking through the walls. Awsten was pacing, as usual, rattling off a string of nonsense that alternated between hyping himself up and full-blown existential dread.
“What if I trip onstage?” he blurted, mid-stride. “Not like a little stumble, but, like, wipe out so hard the crowd collectively cringes? Do you think they’d throw stuff at me? I’d throw stuff at me.”
“Awsten,” I said, holding up the box of hair dye I was trying to wrestle open, “are you seriously spiraling over a completely hypothetical and impossibly unlikely situation right now?”
“First of all,” he shot back, pointing dramatically at me, “yes. Second of all, that box is winning. Need me to—”
“Don’t you dare touch it. Sit down.”
He sighed theatrically but obeyed, plopping into the folding chair in front of the mirror. His reflection smirked at me as I finally conquered the box, gloves already snapped on and the dye tube at the ready. It wasn’t the first time I’d done this—probably wouldn’t be the last either—but the way his face lit up every time we did these pre-show rituals made it feel like a first all over again.
“I’m just saying,” he said as I started parting his hair into sections, “some people have banana peels thrown at them as, like, a metaphor for life. Mine are real, and they’re waiting for me out there.”
“You’re so weird,” I muttered, unable to suppress a laugh. He tilted his head back to grin up at me, and for a second, I forgot what I was doing. His smile had a way of knocking the wind out of people if they weren’t prepared—not that I ever could be.
“That’s why you keep me around,” he said smugly.
“No,” I corrected, running the comb through his hair to spread the dye evenly. “I keep you around because you’d look like a hot mess onstage if I didn’t.”
“Rude,” he replied, but his eyes sparkled with amusement.
It was moments like these—him sitting still for once, the chaos outside reduced to background noise—that I cherished. I got to see a side of Awsten that felt raw and unfiltered, like all his bravado and stage presence melted away under the fluorescent dressing room lights. He was just Awsten, the boy with half a brain cell and a knack for making my chest ache in the best way.
“So,” he started after a beat of silence, “what’s the vibe tonight? Am I going full-on alien prince? Goth vampire? Surfer dude with emotional baggage?”
I cocked an eyebrow at him in the mirror. “Do you even know what surfer dude with emotional baggage would look like?”
“No,” he admitted, “but I feel like you do. You’re, like, freakishly good at this.”
“Thanks,” I said, softening. Compliments from Awsten were rare—when he wasn’t deflecting with jokes, he was usually too busy roasting everyone in his vicinity. “But I was thinking more along the lines of chaotic neon dream. Something that’ll make people’s eyes hurt, but in a good way.”
“You’re a genius,” he declared, as if I hadn’t heard it before.
The hair dye was setting by the time I pulled out the makeup kit, and that’s when the real fun began. Awsten leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching as I rifled through the mess of palettes and brushes. His knee bounced restlessly, and I placed a hand on it without thinking, steadying him.
“You’re gonna vibrate out of the chair,” I teased.
“What if I’m just excited?” he countered, but his voice was quieter now, almost shy. He straightened up, tilting his head as I approached with a brush in hand.
“Close your eyes,” I said, and he obeyed. For once, he didn’t argue or make a joke—he just let me work. I traced the brush carefully along his face, the closeness of it all making my pulse race. His skin was warm under my fingertips, and his breathing was slow and steady.
When I stepped back, he opened his eyes and looked at me instead of the mirror. “How’s it look?” he asked, his tone softer than I expected.
“Like a rockstar,” I said, clearing my throat. “The hottest mess out there.”
His laugh was loud and sudden, and it broke the tension like a bubble popping. “You really know how to hype a guy up,” he said, shaking his head. But his smile lingered, and I caught him glancing at the mirror like he couldn’t wait to see what I’d done.
The finishing touches were the hardest part. As I dabbed the last of the makeup onto his face, he leaned into my touch just slightly, his eyes closing again. I told myself it was nothing—that he was probably just tired or zoning out. But the way my hand lingered longer than necessary gave me away.
“Thanks for this,” he murmured suddenly, breaking the silence. “I’d be a disaster without you.”
I laughed, trying to play it cool. “You’re a disaster with me. I’m just damage control.”
His eyes opened, and he looked at me—really looked at me, like he was searching for something he couldn’t quite name. “No, I mean it. You’re… you’re the only one who gets it. Gets me.”
My hands froze mid-motion, brush hovering near his jaw. The air felt heavier all of a sudden, like the world had shrunk down to just the two of us. “Awsten…”
“I’m serious,” he said, leaning back slightly but keeping his eyes on mine. “You’re… kinda my favorite person, you know that?”
My chest tightened, and I fought to keep my voice steady. “You’re just saying that because I’m the only one who’ll do your makeup without poking your eye out. He grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just really good at being… you.” I didn’t know what to say to that, so I focused on finishing the highlighter and stepping back to admire my work. He turned to the mirror, and for a moment, the room was quiet except for the faint sounds of the opening band still playing.
When he looked back at me, his smile was softer, almost shy.
“You’re a miracle worker.”
“Go knock ’em dead,” I said, shoving the makeup kit aside and peeling off my gloves. My voice sounded steadier than I felt.
Awsten stood, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a kid hyped up on sugar. But before he walked out the door, he paused, glancing back at me. “You sure you don’t wanna come out and take a bow? You deserve some credit for this masterpiece.” I rolled my eyes, shoving him gently toward the door.
“Get out there, rockstar.”
And as he disappeared into the chaos of the stage, I let myself smile, the weight of his words still lingering in the air.
//
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