#also as you can see I have no idea how to do flowers but I enjoy the process and isn't that what matters in art anyways?

[danc3withme]

nonstop thinking about viktor :c

viktor headcanons cause i need to talk about how he would be with his partner rn!!

ೃ⁀➷ whenever he's extremely focused on something, or spacing out, he'll play with your hair and twirl it around (HAVE U GUYS SEEN HIM TWIRLING HIS OWN HAIR AROUND HIS FINGER?!??!) it's the cutest thing ever and it relaxes him

ೃ⁀➷ i think he'd be very romantic with his words, his love language is def words of affirmation and acts of service

: ̗̀➛ he'd tell you the most poetic things ever. "the atoms between us.." he pauses to hover his palm on yours, just barely grazing fingertips, "they are warm with my love for you," he finishes, interlocking fingers and doing the same with your other hand.

: ̗̀➛ "i will always love you the same way i know i'll always need oxygen... in every timeline."

ೃ⁀➷ he will sometimes (a lot of the time) get caught up in work and in the lab, but despite how tired he is he'll always make it up to you<3

: ̗̀➛ he likes to plan relaxing movie nights, letting you have the choice of what you two will be watching, and he smiles at your excitement every time

: ̗̀➛ he also loves taking nice baths with you, it's easier on his leg, and it's just 10x more relaxing! he'll wash your hair with gentle hands, run them over your wet, dripping shoulders. you'll wash his hair, and he'll almost fall asleep. his eyes are closed and he's breathing so softly, leaning his head against yours. he also lovesss when you just chat and yap about your day or anything, he loves your voice and how it shifts higher and lower depending on your emotions, and it helps him relax further

ೃ⁀➷ cuddling at night is the best part of his day. he finally gets to unwind and just rest with his loved one. he loves cuddling facing each other, his head on top of yours.

: ̗̀➛ (he drools in his sleep i just know it)

: ̗̀➛ for some reason i see this man sleeping with the thinnest blanket known to mankind and just not caring at all, you have to cover him up with the sheets so he doesn't catch a cold or get sick lolol.

: ̗̀➛ hates having to get up so early in the morning. he wakes up a few minutes early every morning, just so he can admire you, taking in every detail of your face.

: ̗̀➛ gets emotional about it sometimes😭 he'll think too hard, noticing how peaceful you look, and how you were once a kid, and then starts thinking about everything that could've hurt you or starts remembering stories you've told him about getting hurt and he nearly cries on the spot. that's his cue to get up

: ̗̀➛ he never leaves before giving you a kiss on the head, always leaving a freshly picked flower on the bedside table for you! (you have no idea where he finds these)

hope u guys enjoy!!! more coming soon:>

[sanguineterrain]

Are your requests open? I have a little idea... I really like the idea of Jason being so big and strong. I just wanna jump on him and cling to him like a koala and knowing he can catch me.

I headcanon Jason likes to randomly scoop reader up. He'll pick you up and squeeze you until you squeal and giggle. He likes to be a little turd sometimes and do it in public just to tease you.

Maybe not a request. I just want to hear your thoughts?

Reader:

...Yes I am 100% on board with this. Also, I want to clarify that I'm thinking of my plus sized folks too. Jason is big and tall and definitely can carry Bruce, Dick, and another miscellaneous hero at the same time. Do not think this man taps out at 150 lbs. He can bench press you. He will if you're into that.

I'd like to think that you finding out that Jason can do all that including lift and carry you around happens by accident. Like maybe you're not getting out of bed and Jason's trying to coax you out and you tell him to make you (not knowing he full well can) and so Jason just. Lifts you up and carries you out of your room.

I don't think he thinks much of it until he sees your flustered reaction and how giddy it makes you that big strong man is carrying you like a delicate flower 🌼 it definitely gives him an ego boost. Like sure, Jason knows logically that his size is attractive and maybe his face too (definitely) but he doesn't really believe it. Because once someone learns about who he is or even sees all the scars on him, they'll run for the hills, right?

WRONG! You desire him carnally.

So anyway. Like you said, Jason would start doing it just to see how you melt because he adores your reactions. He'd spin you around when you share good news or carry you to bed when you're exhausted. He'd throw you over his shoulder when you're being a brat (and that's exactly what you want).

I think it would really thrill him, being able to use his strength in a way besides for violence and you trusting him enough to let him handle you like that. Also, I think Jason has these feral little thoughts sometimes about his partner like how soft they are or how they smell or needing to take care of them or how he's been molded to fight and win and they haven't and it's up to Jason to keep them safe. Part of that is also that it pleases Jason the most when you're tucked into his arms, be it in bed or when he just feels like carrying you.

So definitely YES to Jason carrying you. Extremely dreamy 🥰

[strwberri-milk]

Hi can i request the boys trying to court a oblivious reader

heres rafayel and here's somethign similar as well in case!!

Zayne knows he isn't exactly the poster child for most emotionally observant man on Earth but he likes to think that his signals are becoming more obvious that he wants to take you out, romantically.

When it starts to become clear to him that you aren't really understanding or comprehending that he wants to be more than friends he just decides to come clean. He'll talk about it overtly, telling you straight up that he wants to take you out on a date because he's interested in you romantically. He makes it literally impossible for you to misunderstand him, a little sad he couldn't make things slightly more romantic but he'll get over it.

Xavier doesn't really see the point in beating around the bush so it really isn't a big problem for him. He has no issue asking you point blank if you'd go on a date with him, making it clear what his intentions are for the two of you. If he wants to ask you out on a date and thinks that you'd be amenable to that.

He's been observing your body language for a while, trying to determine if the two of you are just friends or if there's a chance of things going well if he asked you on a date. He'll plan the moment of asking you perfectly, making sure that you have a feasible out if he misread your signals but of course he didn't. You like him just as much, even if you had no idea how obvious his crush on you is.

Sylus wants to be a bit of a romantic, leaving flowers and sweets and other overtly romantic gifts on your doorstep on a regular basis. You just think he's being friendly, overcompensating for the fact that he can't leave the N109 zone on a more regular basis. You don't really even entertain the thought that he could be doing that in a romantic manner, just glad that you have such a good friend in him.

He's expecting you to finally catch on, get that flicker of recognition in your eyes as you finally realise that he's in love with you and wants to do nothing but spoil you. However, when it starts to become increasingly clear that you aren't really aware of his intentions for you he'll grow slightly frustrated. He'll ask you if you're seriously unaware of his feelings for you, his statement just continuing to further confuse you.

He sighs, shaking his head at how oblivious you really are. He is mildly amused that somehow, it's taken him this long to realise you truly had no idea how he felt about you. He shakes his head, finally asking you out in a way you can't misunderstand but you also won't live it down.

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (viii)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the paranormal, the passage of time, panicking,

A/N: omg guys new banner reveal. i put a flower on that man because i felt like it. personally thrilled that we have made it this far because that means it's only 2 more chapters to 10 and then we're in double digits. also unsolved drabble requests are very welcome and encouraged please ily THANKS BYE

Previous part || Series masterlist

“I don’t get it,” Bucky says, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.

Inside the room, the air is thick with dust and the scent of aged metal. The walls are lined with dark wooden beams, their surfaces weathered by time, and the faint smell of oil and rust lingers in the air. 

“It’s a haunted clock tower,” you reply, walking up the stairs, floorboards creaking generously under you. 

“I got that,” he retorts, “but what the hell is it supposed to haunt? All the search results were just some kids' show.”

In the center of the room stands the massive, intricate clock mechanism, the gears and cogs slowly gathering rust as the years have passed without maintenance. Moonlight through the giant clock face casts a faint glow into the dimly lit room.

“I’m surprised you checked the internet,” you tell him, “I didn’t know you knew how to do that.”

He rolls his eyes. “I was an undercover agent for 80 years. I know how to use technology.”

“You’re also older than the concept of time, so you can see how that may confuse some people,” you reply, taking a tour around the room. “Second, I’m surprised you checked the internet.”

“You already said that.”

You stop in your tracks, hand on your chest as you say, “Yes, but you’re researching things now? For our show? That’s real sweet, babygirl.”

He scoffs, shaking his head as he continues to climb up. “It was one Google search.”

“It’s one more than what you’ve done in the last 3 months,” you say, eyelashes fluttering comically at him before your demeanor returns to normal. “Anyway, there’s no like, ghost sightings here, per se–”

Bucky comes to a halt only two steps away from his door. “Then why are we here?” 

“It’s still haunted, Bucky,” you chastise. “That doesn’t always mean ghosts. Maybe it could mean orbs. Or shadow people, like from the hospital–”

“Not a thing.”

The clock creaked and groaned, the hands inching forward, their motion sluggish and uneven, as if the gears hadn't been properly oiled in years. With every tick, a loud whine echoed through the tower, vibrating the air in the otherwise silent room.

“Ooh, maybe we’ll find our doppelgangers.” Your eyes shine. “What would you do with yours?”

“Nothing.” Steve met another version of himself once and immediately beat the shit out of it, if that was anything to go by.   

“Not even a date?”

His eyebrows knit together, eyes creasing. “Why would I date my doppelganger?”

“Who’s gonna know you better than yourself? But the more important question is, would you fu–”

The noise from the clock grows more intense—a final, desperate groan before it comes to a jarring halt. 

The ticking stops abruptly, leaving an unnatural silence hanging in the air. The hands remain frozen at 9. 

Both of you are left staring at a now defunct clock. 

“Clock died ‘cause of your stupid question,” Bucky comments, voice dry. 

“Just say you don’t like modern philosophy and go.” 

“Oh I’m going alright. Two hours and all we’ve gotten footage of is stairs, trash and a washout Big Ben.”

“Don’t insult Kinley Clock Tower like that,” you scold. “You’re gonna piss it off and it’s gonna haunt us for the rest of our days.”

Bucky gives you a flat look. “By doing what.”

“Showing you the wrong time wherever you go.”

“Devastating,” Bucky responds, not sounding fazed in the slightest. “Right, so nothing haunted here?”

“Maybe it’s haunted by the failure of proper clock maintenance.”

Bucky’s eyes sweep across the largely empty room one last time. “Other than that toolbox, place’s empty. Chalk this one up to bullshit and let’s go.”

You let out a deep sigh at the thought of a wasted evening. “Fine, but that means we have to find another idea for a video.”

“Use one of the reserves.”

“We’re gonna have to, if we can’t find anything by tomorrow.”

Bucky’s heavy footsteps echo through the staircase. “That is a problem for tomorrow-you to deal with.”

You let out a scoff, following behind. “Tomorrow-us.”

“No,” he replies thoughtfully. “Pretty sure I got it right.”

Whatever. You counted tonight as a win the second you managed to get Bucky out of the compound without having to lie out of your ass. He even threw in a Google search worth of research. And he even told you the batteries on the cameras were all charged. Small steps for a regular co-host, big step for Buckykind everywhere. 

The elevator stops at his floor and he gets out, sending you a two finger wave on his way out. 

Should I walk you to your door?” you throw in at the last minute, the makings of a smile on your face. 

Bucky casts you an indignant look. “Why?”

“Chivalry, baby.” You grin, leaning against the wall of the elevator. “Didn't they literally invent it in your era?”

Bucky flips you the finger instead, not bothering to dignify you with a response. Your laughter subsides as the elevator closes on you with a ding.

Bucky sees a faint light in the hallway, and figures Steve’s slightly ajar door is its source. In between trudging back to his bedroom, he drops a quick knock on it.

“Come in,” Steve calls, voice deep from the sleepiness starting to set in. “Oh, you’re back.”

“Yeah,” Bucky replies from the doorway. “Shoot got done early.”

“Where’d you go?” he asks, laying down his book beside him. 

“Kinley Tower,” Buck stands with his arms pulled over his chest, leaning against the doorway. “Place was a dud. Nothing to see.”

“What about other things?” Steve asks, curious but still casually indirect. “How was it?” 

Bucky shrugs. “The same. Bounced right back, like nothing ever happened.” 

“You still don’t know what Nat was talking about?” 

“No,” Bucky replies, scratching the back of his neck, before hesitantly saying, “Should I be asking? I don’t know if we’re— y’know.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re friends by now, Buck.” Steve smiles briefly. “Wouldn’t hurt to check in.”

Well, Steve may be sure, but Bucky wasn’t. Then again Steve only had 1 best friend for over a hundred years until he met Sam, so how the fuck would he know. 

Still, Bucky gives a curt nod, glancing around Steve’s room for any notable changed but coming up empty handed. 

“You wanna tell me why there’s several charges on my card for tarot websites?” Steve picks up his book again, thumbing through the pages.

“Wasn’t me,” Bucky grunts. 

“Seems a bit suspect after you did an episode on witchcraft,” Steve speaks without lifting an eye from his book. “Could just be me though.”

It catches him by surprise. “You watch our episodes?”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Yes? Every last one.”

“Oh,” Bucky mumbles, finding everything else in the room infinitely more interesting all of a sudden. 

“Looks like it’s doing you some good,” Steve continues, turning back to his novel. “It’s nice to see you out and about.”

“What’s that s’pposed to mean?” Bucky gives him a look that could be seen as peeved if the blond hadn’t known him for as long has he had been alive.

Steve hides a smile. “Nothing. Left some apples on your nightstand. Eat it if you’re hungry.”

It forces Bucky to try to catch onto Steve's train of thought. Sure you hung out occasionally after work, but it wasn’t like you were hanging out on a friends basis. Bucky definitely would know if you were, because it would be a laborious task to even get him to consider leaving his bedroom. A thousand elephants would not be able to make him go do things that friends do. 

So he stares at him for another whole minute waiting for a follow up, a clarification, but Steve makes no other comment, only turning the page of his novel. 

Bucky finally leaves silently, shutting the door behind him.

Sure enough, there are apples and a fork on his nightstand. They were good too, crisp like Steve had gotten them from the market just today.  

By eleven Bucky’s already in bed, eyes straining as he watches this woodworking guy on YouTube teach him how to make a dovetailed box. For no reason. And just because he heard Sam mention offhand that he needed a place for all his keys doesn’t mean Bucky was making it for him.  

From: co-host 

how about we take a road trip down to washington to go meet my dear friend

From: co-host 

From: bucky (avengers) (guy with the hair)

what friend

mr quatch himself

From: co-host  

first name ‘sas’

From: co-host

i’m talking about bigfoot

From: bucky (avengers) (guy with the hair)

yeah i got it 

From: bucky (avengers) (guy with the hair)

when 

From: co-host

well we’d have to start at 4am

From: bucky (avengers) (guy with the hair)

fuck no

From: bucky (avengers) (guy with the hair)how about something within a 5 mile radius 

From: co-host

How about Sunday 

Bucky switches his phone all the way off and tosses it onto the bed beside him, smothering his face into the pillow. 

​​From: co-host

How about your mom

He’d deal with your nonsense tomorrow. 

And probably fill the gas tank for a trip to Washington. 

Bucky’s eyes snap open when the cold air hits his face. He keeps his window shut all the way,every single night. 

He blinks several times before his eyes adjust to the darkness of his surroundings. 

“Bucky?” a disembodied voice comes from beside him.

His head whips to the side, making him realise that one, he was standing, and two, he had no idea how long he’d been standing for. 

Only, he finds you next to him, looking disoriented like you’d just been shaken awake from a nap.

“Where the hell–” your voice trails off as you take note of where you’d landed up. 

In front of him, mechanical gears whine as they scrape against each other in a desperate attempt to move.

He peers down at his clothes; the same black t-shirt, jacket and cargo pants he distinctly remembers changed out of nearly an hour ago. 

“What the fuck,” Bucky snaps. “Did you bring us back here?”

“No,” you say, face rigid, solemn. “I swear I didn’t. I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

Bucky’s shoulders loosen. “No, I was asleep.”

The wind rustles by, and everything looks exactly the same as when you left it nearly 3 hours ago. 

“We’re back at Kinley,” he tests it, taking a step forward. “What just happened?”

“This is weird, right?” you put forth, clearing your throat. “I definitely was going to send you a text about the next video idea, and the next thing I know you’re in front of me. I’m not dreaming, am I?”

Bucky pinches the inside of his arm. The skin comes back red and stinging.

“No, it’s real,” he murmurs. “Unless this is a weird fuckin’ dream that I’m having.”

It wouldn’t be the first time you showed up in his dreams either. He just doesn’t remember any of them being so… vivid. 

“I’m in the physical realm, I can feel that,” you talk so quietly it’s like you’re speaking to yourself. “It’s not your dream. I’m here too.”

He checks his phone. 

9:05. 

Bucky opens up his messages, finding none from you tonight. His YouTube history similarly didn’t have the video he was watching earlier today.

Bucky clenches his fists and releases them, before taking a deep inhale. “Okay. We just had a strange fuckin’ flash forward into the future because of… I don’t know what. But we never left, and now we’re going home.”

“Yep.” You nod in confirmation, but the camera levitating behind you wobbles with uncertainty. “So– do we recreate what happened or…?”

“No, let's just leave,” Bucky debates, running a hand through his hair. 

You take a step towards the stairs, holding onto the bannister as you make your way down. 

Bucky holds up the flashlight of his phone as he follows, throwing another look behind him. 

“Having a shared flashforward… could say it’s soulmate shit,” you give him a quick glance, but the grin on your face is unsure, and he knows you’re trying to shake it off. 

“It’s a carbon monoxide shit.” 

“You can be carbon mine-oxide.” 

Bucky wordlessly shoves past you as he walks down the stairs, leaving you to follow with another stupid laugh. 

The car ride back brings with it some air of normalcy, so does the elevator ride. 

Bucky once again gives you a two finger wave as he gets down at his floor. 

“Offer’s still there if you want me to walk you to your room,” you call. “I may be delirious, but I’m still chivalrous.”

“Go to sleep,” Bucky carps, shaking his head, banishing the slight lift in the corner of his mouth. 

The faint light in the hallway makes him falter. 

He sticks his head in anyway. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey,” Steve smiles from his bed, book in hand. “You’re back.”

Bucky glances around the room. “Did we talk earlier today?”

“Only when you texted me for my Netflix password.” 

“Nothing after that?” Bucky hesitates from asking him outright.

“No. You okay?” Steve asks, eyebrows furrowing. 

“Just had a weird dream,” Bucky dismisses, forcing his face to relax. “See you around.”

“Left you some apples if you’re hungry,” Steve calls, as Bucky shuts the door.

He crawls back into bed, eyeing the clock suspiciously. 10:30. 

He closes his eyes, wills himself to sleep, knowing that this glitch in the matrix was only temporary and tomorrow, you’d be at his damn door, forcing him to go to Washington with you. 

Bucky’s eyes fly open when a draft of wind blows past his cheek.

“You’re fucking shitting me,” he growls, taking in the stupid tower again. 

“Well, fuck,” you exhale from beside him, in the same clothes from that evening. “I think we’re stuck in a timeloop.”

Of all the things to happen to him. Has he not suffered enough.

“Fine. Alright,” Bucky recalibrates, voice short, running a hand through his hair. “What now? How do we get out?”

“I don’t know, let me just consult with my vast experience in timeloops.”

He throws you a look so dry it would have crops withering. You don’t seem to care at all. 

“If I had to guess from the movies I’ve seen, we either gotta solve a puzzle or one of us has to reach self-actualisation and turn into a good human,” you postulate, arms on your hips as you survey the room. “We both know it’s not me, so is there anything you want to share with the class?”

If your release was contingent on Bucky working through his issues, you’d be here for a century at least.

“We keep coming back here at midnight,” Bucky elects to focus on other things, tilting his head towards the clock. “Is it because we left at 9 instead of 12?”

“Maybe,” you consider it. “We can stick around, I guess.”

It wasn’t a bad place to start. You’d have to trial-and-error your way out of this one. 

“We’ve got…” he pulls his sleeve back to look at his watch “...two hours and fifty five minutes.”

You shrug. “We can check out the rest of the tower to see if we missed anything.”

“Fine,” he relents slowly as if still weighing his options, only to come up with nothing better. 

The next level is at least a few flights of stairs below and if you thought the room with the clock in it was barren, there was nothing here for you except spiders and dust bunnies.   

“Maybe we have to clean it up,” you suggest, nose scrunching. “Maybe the tower’s super mad that everyone’s disrespecting it.”

“That's a stupid reason.”

You spin around, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Take that back. We just said maybe it doesn't like being disrespected.”

Bucky grumbles a few choice words under his breath, none of which reach your ears. 

There's nothing along the walls of the tower, nor on the ceilings. The intermediary floor and the ground floor come up empty as well. 

By the time you've confirmed that you’ve exhausted all possible leads with nothing to show for it, Bucky’s memorised the layout of the place. 

11:58.

“2 more minutes,” he tells you.

“All right,” you say, rubbing your palms together. “Experiment one. Let's go.”

Bucky keeps his eyes peeled.

11:59.

He doesn't even fucking blink, and neither do you as the seconds count down on his phone. 

12:00. 

He exhales, looking up. 

A cold wind blows past his face. 

When he hastily looks back at his phone, it reads 9pm once more. 

“Damn it,” you curse softly. 

Bucky’s growing anger resonates in a rumble in chest. “What kind of twisted shit is this?”

“It's fine,” you hold your hand up, breathing out. “I have a few more ideas.”

Bucky carelessly gestures for you to go on, and you point at the big clock.

“That thing stopped working at 9,” you hint. “We'll have to fix it. Get it working again and then we go back.”

“You know anything about fixing clocks?”

“I worked at a toy shop near a watchmaker once,” you offer. “That's gotta count for something.”

“What the hell, sure,” Bucky gives up, throwing his arms up. 

He only had experience taking apart the old leather strapped wrist watch his parents got him for his 11th birthday, and Steve’s pocket watch that he inherited from his asshole dad. He’d dismantle it carefully, methodically piece by piece, learning the insides and out of each device, so that if and when they stopped running, he'd know exactly what was wrong just by holding it up to his ear.

That didn't necessarily transfer here, but it couldn't be all that different.

Turns out it's very different and you both had to resort to watching several videos before you even began to attempt to fix it. 

He retreats the toolbox from the corner, grateful that at least you didn't have to waste a good half hour going looking for tools to fix a fuckin’ clock.

“There's no signs of life in the mechanism,” you say, reading from the phone. “So I guess we start with the most basic shit.” 

He only lets out a noise in acknowledgement, before you both spend time dusting away at gears and checking for broken parts. When nothing seems bent or misaligned, you move onto the next step. 

And that's when the fun actually starts. 

“That’s not how you oil a gear.”

“Sure it fuckin’ is,” Bucky comments, careful making sure the grease reaches every nook and cranny.

“You’re doing it wrong.” 

Bucky doesn't take his eyes off the machine, and instead raises his left hand up, clenching it into fist and releasing it, leaving the soft shifting of all the plates to prove his point. 

You scoff. “What, just ‘cause you have a metal arm you're the world’s leading expert in oiling mechanics?”

“It means I’ve got some experience in taking care of them.” 

“I’ve seen you put that thing in the dishwasher, don’t even try with me,” you warn. 

Busted. He usually got away with lying flagrantly about his arm, but apparently you pay attention to him and the fact that the Wakandan tech only required a wipedown every once and a while. 

“I do woodwork, I know how to oil things,” he switches seamlessly over to the next lie. 

The tools rarely needed any maintenance and he really didn't have to do much with them yet, considering how high quality they were. But he has an idea of what he could be doing, and that's what counts. 

You narrow your eyes at him. “How come you’ve never made anything for me?”

“I don’t like you.” 

“That’s not what I asked.”

Bucky continues squeezing oil into axles without sparing you a glance. “What do you want?”

“What can you make?”

“Boxes.”

“Make me a box then.”

“No.”

“Bitch.”

Bucky smiles to himself, turning the gears to see them move smoothly.

You dust off cobwebs from the pendulums to get it swinging again, you use your powers to stare at the crank until it rotates on its own to wind up, and to the best of your estimation, make sure the weights are raised to the right heights. 

The whole affair takes nearly 3 hours and towards the end, the both of you are hurriedly rushing through the motions, placing aside the need to argue to just get the damn thing done in time. At some point, telekinesis keeps the pendulum swinging. 

“Did you check everything?”

“Yes.”

“Everything.”

“Yes, Bucky.” you sigh. “All major pieces are working. The clock should move.”

Proof of your word, the clock starts ticking again. It goes from 9:00 to 9:05 without any hitches, and then continues on without interference. 

“Hell yeah,” you cheer and Bucky heaves a sigh of relief.

“Come on,” he urges under his breath, checking his phone again.

2 minutes to go.

“I love the passage of time,” you state unnaturally loudly. “I've never been more grateful for the passage of time.”

“Don't jinx this.”

1 more minute.

“That's not jinxing, it's good lu-”

Bucky feels a cold breeze swipe across his cheek. 

He inhales sharply. 

“Fuck.” Your stomach drops to the ground. 

In the blink of an eye, everything you'd managed to get done in the last 3 hours had gone right back to the way it had been. Dusty, unmoving and dull. 

Bucky robotically checks the time on his phone. 

9pm.

His fingers rub his temples. “What's the next plan?”

“We must have not done it right,” you reason quietly, taking a step towards it. “Something's wrong.”

“The thing was moving, I think we got it,” Bucky sighs irritatedly. 

“Well, we gotta try again,” you turn to him sharply. “You don't have to be here but I'm gonna do it.”

Bucky raises both his eyebrows at you, and you stare back with equal determination. 

“Fine,” he forgoes. “I'll look downstairs.”

It takes less time this time around. It gives you half an hour to check if it is moving again, and you watch the hands move from 9 to 9:05 to 9:20 with no problem.

Meanwhile, Bucky spends his time turning the intermediate room inside out in search for other clues. 

When he finds nothing there, he trudges back to the clock, finding you fingers crossed but confident that you'd done it.

“This is it, baby,” you say, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “We're getting out of this.”

“Here's to hoping,” he says in a tone that lets you know he isn’t convinced, watching his timer countdown from 30 seconds.

“No hoping. There's nothing to do. We're leaving,” you declare. “I've never seen a clock work more beautifully in my life.” 

Three.

Two.

One.

Bucky holds his breath. 

And a wind blows past his face.

The machine resets to the way it was. 

“All fuckin’ right,” Bucky mumbles, expiring a breath deeply. 

“It's fine,” you say, forcing a smile. “I've got a few more ideas.”

Cleaning the floors doesn't work. 

Reading up about the clock tower in  detail and honouring its legacy in an earnest ceremony doesn't work. 

Fixing it for a third time doesn't work either.

“I'm takin’ a nap,” he informs, back against the wall. “I'll deal with this shit again when I wake up.”

“How can you even think about sleeping right now?” you ask, using your powers to pull the damn clock out of the wall. It changes nothing.

“I've thought about sleeping through much worse,” he grumbles, eyes closed. 

“I'm beginning to think you have an iron deficiency.”

“Literally a supersoldier.”

“Vitamin D deficiency,” you revise. “Can you step into the sun or do you just like, start hissing and burning?”

“We’ve never gonna find out, ‘cause we’re never making it out of tonight,” he hums, eyes closed. 

You go still, clock hovering mid air. 

“You don't think we're getting out?”

“I think we're fucked,” Bucky mumbles, yawning as he makes himself as comfortable as old wooden floors would allow him to be. “Y’told me yourself, we tried all the big plans. There's no puzzle. We're trapped.”

The clock lands on the ground with a heavy thud. 

“Careful,” he warns, wondering how cozy the floor would be if he just slid down and laid there. “Wouldn't wanna break the fuckin’ thing that put us in this mess to begin with.”

“Fuck,” you breathe out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Bucky opens one eye to peer at you. “What?”

“What do you think, Bucky?” you fire back. “We’re stuck in a timeloop for eternity because we’ve tried the most obvious options and we’re still here.”

“Could be a lot cleaner, but this ain’t the worst place to get stuck for the rest of your life,” he tempts, arms crossed behind his head, feeling a dull strain in his neck. 

“We’re gonna be stuck here forever,” you say, dawning horror in your inflection. “I’m gonna be stuck with you for the rest of eternity.”

“So much for chivalry,” he says wryly.

“We need a new plan,” you digress hectically from the other side of the room. 

“Here's one. I get some sleep, order some pizza in the next loop or two and–”

“No.”

“Fine, Thai works too. Whatever. Then we-”

“You don’t get it,” you snap abruptly. “Jesus Christ, this is literally my worst fucking nightmare. Either help or leave.”

He pries both eyes open at the sudden shift in your tone. He’s used to you snapping at him for his bullshit, and the favour was usually reciprocated, but not like this.  

Your back is turned to him, but he can tell you’re breathing heavily as you check out the new gap you've created in the wall where the clock was, before turning around and lifting the entire machine in the center of the room. 

“Hey,” he calls, voice gruff, slowly pushing himself off the floor. 

You throw him a look, continuing to move pieces of newspaper and tools and check under it. 

He watches you curse under your breath, lifting things too high and dropping them down a little too hard without flinching even once. 

“Look,” he tries again, a little louder. 

You flip the machine upside down, fully intending on taking it apart and putting it back together as if it was going to make a big difference.

“Grab the wrench. Or don't, I don't give a–”

Bucky grips your shoulder with a call of your name. It’s enough to get you to pause from sheer surprise at how close he suddenly positioned himself, considering it was a well known fact that Bucky hated people in his space. 

“Listen to me. We’re going to get out of here,” he instructs, voice much more muted than you were used to. “But you have to calm down.”

You take in a deep breath, before it leaves in a shaky exhale. Whatever you’ve got levitating gently drops onto the ground.

“You’re panicking. I would be too if I wasn’t dead inside,” he notes, hands still on your shoulder firmly. “Do whatever you need to to get it out of your system. It’ll be easier to focus after that. We'll be out of here soon enough.”

“You seem awfully sure.” Your mouth curls into a half smile, but it drops as quickly as it came up. 

“We’ll figure something out.” His shoulders rise and fall. “Got all the time in the world.”

You swallow the thickness in your throat, giving him a small nod.

“‘M sorry,” he says, eyes intense, and you know he’s talking about the nonchalance he showed earlier. “I was bein’ a prick.” 

“Honestly, you being a prick is, like, the most normal part about this.”

“...thanks.” 

“It’s fine, I could use some normal.” You brush it off with a slight smile. “You’re right. We should get some food. I’m hungry.”

“Alright,” he says, eyeing your features for a second more. “But you’re buying. Payback for making me clean up every floor twice.”

“Prick.”

His conversation with Steve from earlier that night comes back to him, the same time you take another breath to shake off the antsiness. 

Bucky lifts a eyebrow to look more natural. “You still sure it’s me who needs self-actualisation? ‘Cause it sure seems that you’ve got a whole lot to talk about.”

You half-scoff, half-laugh. “Is that your way of saying I’ve got issues?”

“Just using your words.”

You watch him for a second, like you’re thinking about saying something. He tilts his head at how contemplative you look, only for you to open your mouth and ask,

“Say, do you think emotional baggage is hot?” you wiggle your brows. “‘Cause if you do, I’ve got a whole lot of it.”

He groans out loud, neck craning as his head drops back. 

“Also,” you pose a bit more curiously, “you gonna let go of me any time soon or are we about to slow dance?”

Bucky’s hands immediately drop from your shoulder, taking a step back. “Fuck off.”

“I could, but I’d just respawn here in three hours.”

He rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but feel a bit relieved that you looked a lot less in distress. 

You'd spent two loops doing a deep dive into timeloops, coming up with more possibilities to try out.

Leaving the building at each hour did nothing. 

You spent 1 loop eating dinner and reaching out to scientists you knew on how to break out. Those who replied either said they weren't real, told you stuff you'd already figured out, or blocked you.

You even spent half a loop painstakingly combing through footage from earlier in the night to figure out if you'd fucked with anything by mistake that you were yet to correct, not noticing it so far because it had been so minor or mundane. 

“Oh shit, I just noticed something,” you gape, pointing at the screen

Bucky pulls the little monitor closer to his face. “What?”

“You’re looking at me so much in these,” you remark, voice relaxing immediately. “What's up with that?” 

“Maybe because you’re the only one talking,” Bucky fires back, irritatedly putting the camera back down, “and it’s not like there’s anything else to look at here.”

“So defensive,” you comment. “Just say you think I’m cute and move on.”

“Shut up.”

“Shut me up yourself, coward.”

To be clear, Bucky didn't realise he was looking at you that much. And now that you’ve pointed it out, he can’t really argue because he is doing it a lot more than he realised he was, even unconsciously sometimes. 

“How many more timeloops till you run out of these lines?” he questions instead.

“How many more timeloops till you stop being a handsome son of a bitch?”

The clock tower may be cold, but he feels too warm all of a sudden. 

“I swear, if this doesn’t work, I’m throwing the clock out the window,” you say, powers forcing the hands to speed through every hour and second at 2x speed. 

Bucky doesn’t even look up at you from over his phone. “You throw it, you’re fixing it again.”

You stop trying to spin the hands when one of them creaks. 

A few loops in and the growing frustration from the both of you manifests into tension that is palpable. 

You'd spent a loop or two outside the tower so you didn't drive yourself insane. Without fail, you'd end up right back up watching the clock every single time the world outside struck 12.

Bucky’s done his fair share of attempts. Jacket on, jacket off. Holding the camera, being the one who led into the room, the one who led out. 

Mainstream movies, obscure movies, video essays, podcasts. 

“I don’t fuckin’ get it. What are we missing?” you pour over the options again, frustrated. “We’ve done everything. We’ve done combinations of things.”

“There’s something we’re missing,” he says, staring at the moon through the face. “Some detail.” 

It's not like you can physically keep track of every variable. Everything resets the second it strikes 12, no matter what you changed. 

“I think–” 

He sends you a glance.

“Maybe if we–” you try before you stop altogether.  

Bucky just stays quiet because at this point you've exhausted every option you can think of, to no avail. 

He knows you don't want to say it. 

But it's time you start accepting that you're well and truly stuck. 

“Should write Maya an email,” he tells you. “Tell her we quit.”

You give him a smile, knowing it would never even make its way to her.

Still, you pull out your phone and let Bucky peek over your shoulder as you start typing, helpfully suggesting curses as you went. 

____

You absentmindedly tinker with the machine, able to take it apart, fix it and put it back together by heart and in no time now.

“What was the last mission you guys did?” you inquire, rotating a gear between your fingers. 

“Something small,” Bucky replies, voice steady. “Think it was just a recon in Detroit.”

“Do you miss it?” 

“No,” he says resolutely. “Everyone got tired of them a long time ago, but we stick around, just in case.”

You spare him a glance. “When was the last time you actually relaxed?”

Bucky considers it for a second. “Wakanda. Wasn't exactly a vacation though.” 

“New question. When was the last time you went on vacation?”

He raises an eyebrow, head twisting to look at you. 

You place the gear in its place before picking up the oil dropper. “Don’t answer if you don’t wanna.”

He turns his head back to the ceiling, and all the spider webs lining it. 

“Couple of years before I got drafted, my family took a day trip to Convey Island.” he reveals, voice low. “We were supposed to hit as many rides as we could but my sister was aboslutely fuckin’ taken by this damn steam engine they had running. Everyoe got sick of it after the second time so I stuck around with her. Must’a ridden that thing 5 times before she finally let up.” 

You have half a smile on your face. “Did you like it?”

He can't really remember. He can't even remember if the rest of his family was actually there, or whether it was just him and Steve and Becca, or it was just him and Becca.

“I liked that she liked it,” he decides.

You nod, wiping a gear before putting it back, snickering lightly.  “Was the last vacation you took really in the 1930s?” 

He exhales a laugh. “Steve and I went to the Canyon once. It was near a mission location. He told me I'd been dyin’ to go there as a kid. I don't remember that, but he fuckin’ dragged me there by the collar. Not sure if that really counts– we were both bleeding pretty heavy for it to be a real holiday.”

“Steve would say it counts.”

“Steven’s never taken a vacation in his life.” Bucky snorts. “I don't think he physically knows how to relax.”

“I don't think I've ever seen that man sit still for more than a few minutes.”

“Fuckin' rich coming from you. How many jobs have you had? A million?”

You exhale a laugh. “Something like that.”

You push the pendulum with your finger, watching it swing back and forth. 

“Where’d you stick the longest?” Bucky asks, hands supporting his head as he lies on the ground. 

You take a second to think, picking up a gear you’d already cleaned, wiping it down again.

“When I just got out of Leviathan, I used to wait tables for this elderly lady who ran a bakery. Mrs. Mullens,” you say finally. “She was kinder than anyone else I'd met till then; gave me leftovers that didn’t get sold that day, and enough money to get on my feet. I must've been there, what, a year? Year and a half? I think that’s the longest I’ve stayed.” 

“Why’d you quit?” He does his best to not sound too intrusive. 

“One evening she slipped keys into my pocket and told me I could stay in the room above the cafe if I wanted. Realised I’d been there too long, so I left the state the next morning.”

Bucky’s eye twitches as he turns to look at you. “She gave you a place to stay and you skipped town?”

“Yeah.” You half-shrug. “Staying in a place too long feels– suffocating. I don’t know. Just knew it was time to leave.”

Bucky looks at you strangely, mind inadvertently trying to piece together a bunch of information. 

Working on a hunch, he tests, “You got family out there somewhere?”

“I was literally created in a lab,” you deadpan. “I don’t have a family. Unless you count test tubes.”

“It doesn't have to be mean literally.” He arches an eyebrow. “What about Nat?”

“Nat’s a friend.” you disclose, holding a cog up to check for any stains, “The Avengers aren’t my family the same way they are for you. They’re great, but it’s just another job.”

Oh. 

“Right,” he says, settling back into his position, feeling a frown on his face.

“I haven’t really found what you’re asking me about,” you add, and he knows you're trying to be kind.

He isn't sure what he thought the team was to you. He isn't sure what he feels about the new information either.

“What’s it feel like?”

“What?” he asks distractedly. 

“Having people like that,” you clarify. “Maybe if I know what it feels like I’ll know when it happens.”

You’ve all but asked the most emotionally constipated man on earth what family feels like to him.

So reasonaly, Bucky blanks. 

Literally every single interaction with the dead and the living exits his mind. 

And so he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, 

“Silent blenders.” 

And then he cringes. 

“Is that the name of a movie or…” you trail off.

“No. They got me blenders that don’t make a sound. It was a nice gift,” he mumbles. 

You wait for him to provide even a little more context. He instead shifts uncomfortably. 

“Okay,” you allow, looking back down. “Silent blenders. Got it.”

Bucky thinks about it for a second more, and his head starts throbbing.

Instead, he dodges. “Guess you’re not gonna stick around for too long then, huh?”   

“Well, yeah,” you answer, like it was the easiest thing in the world.  “I was always going to just bounce after this was done. I thought you knew that.”

“Right,” he repeats. “Where you headed next?”

“Who knows?” you mull over. “I could go anywhere. You got any reccs?”

He doesn’t really have an answer for you. Bucky can’t imagine packing up and leaving again. Living life never knowing when he can finally take a seat. He’s spent so long wrestling with the turbulence of having multiple identities that he clings to what little semblance of stability he can find.

But a tiny voice in the recess of his mind whispers to him that maybe the reason he's stayed at the same place for so long is the same reason you can’t. 

He has a half formed hypothesis. And then soon comes to the conclusion that he really has no business deriving theories about you like that… but he’d be lying if he said he didnt store it in his head for later. 

He also doesn't know why there's a strange churning in his stomach, a deeply uncomfortable feeling that he hasn't really felt in years. It makes him want to get up and leave. 

“Y’know, just ‘cause I’m gonna leave eventually doesn’t mean we’re not friends.” You snap him out of his first great attempt to understand human emotions other than annoyance. 

He hums. “I wouldn't call us that.” 

“You’re right, we’re star crossed lovers.”

“I feel bad for the next person who has to deal with you.”

You laugh, swinging the pendulum into motion and wiping your hands down. 

You’d taken turns sleeping in two of the time loops, keeping watch while the other rested for a while.

Only when you're asleep does Bucky fully comprehend how quiet it is in there. 

The clouds cover the moon. The floorboards don't make much noise even as he walks around.

He's lost track of how many 9pms it's been. 

He doesn't know why it’s lingering in his mind like this. Probably because he had only thought of her a couple of hours ago. 

He knows you suggested it as a joke but he can't help but wonder.

What if it was actually him keeping the both of you here?  

He really thought he'd made amends. He'd been living as peacefully as he was able to. And yeah, he's a dick, but he wasn't outright evil.

Or so he thought.

Maybe he hadn’t repented as hard as he’d needed to. 

“Becks,” he calls quietly. “If you can hear me– I'm sorry.”

No one responds. You don't stir. 

He forces himself to exhale and continue, “I know you'd hate what I turned into, but I'm tryin’ here. I promise.”

He wishes a damn piece of paper would give him a sign on what to do, or at least tell him there was no coming back. That he should probably resign himself to his fate. 

“You should've had someone who coulda shielded you. Given you a chance to be a kid.” He swallows down the stone in his throat. “I know you're mad, Peanut. I'm really fuckin’ sorry. You deserved a whole lot better.” 

And then he waits, and waits some more, ears straining for anything– a giggle, a scrape. He doesn't know what he expected, but he gets nothing. 

Only a draft blows through the window. 

A shiver runs through you, and you curl into yourself, but thankfully you still don't wake. Bucky has no idea how he’d explain this to you anyway. 

Still, he quietly makes his way towards you, shrugging off his jacket and draping it across you carefully, watching as you relax again.

He blows out an exhale, watching the minutes tick by. 

“Do you think we’re gonna get old here or do we reset every time the loop resets?” you ask aloud.

“Our clothes kept regenerating with us, so I guess we keep resetting too.”

You hum. “Damn, we can’t even grow old together.”

Bucky adds nothing, only turning to you with a deadpan expression.

“What?” you ask.

“What?” he counters. “No old person jokes this time?”

“There’s no fun if you're expecting it,” you sigh.

“Incredible,” he replies, monotonous. 

There’s silence. He hears wind rustle through the room. 

You sit up, and he can feel your eyes boring into him. 

“What?” he asks again.

“Does it upset you?” you ask somberly. “When I make those jokes?”

“No,” he replies. “They’re fine.”

“And when I keep using pickup lines on you– does that make you uncomfortable?” you continue, however, much to his surprise. 

He turns to you with his eyebrows lowered. “Since when does that matter?”

“It matters,” you say quietly. “I knew it annoyed you, I didn’t know they made you uncomfortable.” 

He stares at you for a long while, before settling on, “They don’t.”

“Sure?”

“I don’t care.” He looks ahead. “I’ll tell you if they do.” 

“Okay,” you relent. “If you say so.”

He shakes his head, feeling a strange sort of feeling settle in his chest. He can’t say he hates it, but he would rather not deal with it.

“Bein’ in here’s making you weird.”

You narrow your eyes. “The fuck does that mean?”

“You know what it means,” he asserts. 

“I’m being totally normal, you’ve just refused to hang out with me so you wouldn’t know what that is.”

“I see you every week.” 

“For video shoots.”

“We hang out otherwise,” he scoffs, suddenly feeling very offended. “We literally went to the store the other day.”

“To buy batteries,” you emphasize. “For the video shoots.”

“We’ve gone to the park,” he exclaims, sitting up. “And we eat lunch together sometimes. And we watched that stupid fuckin’ movie in theatres at midnight twice because you lied the second time and told me it was another one – what was it called? Metropolis?”

“Megalopolis,” you say, amused at his outburst. 

“That. Garbage fuckshit. And we’ve taken the cat–”

“Alpine.”

“I know her name,” he hisses. “To the vet. And that’s all in the last month.”

“Jeez, you keep a journal every time we hang out? What are you, obsessed with me?” you ask, trying to bite back a shit-eating grin. 

“Point is,” he grits. “We hang out.”

Fuck. Turns out, maybe Steve was right.

“Tomato, tomahto,” you dismiss. “You’re so obsessed with details. You could’ve just said you’re in love with me and moved on instead of bringing out the whole Excel sheet of every minute we spent together.”

“I hate you,” he groans, dropping back down.

You laugh. It makes the corner of his mouth curl up, just a little.  

“What’s the time?” he asks, blowing out an exhale from his nose.

“Like 11:30?,” you sigh.

“That’s all?” He wants to groan again. 

“Does it matter? We’re stuck here forever. We can get more takeout in the next loop.”

“You’re paying.”

“I paid last time, asshole.”

He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Tomato, tomahto.” 

“Touché.” 

You spin a gear in the air, waiting for the hour to pass.

It suddenly hits him. Something that you'd shown across episodes of witchcraft and haunted hospitals. 

Something you showed literally three minutes ago. 

If this worked, he’d probably hug you and your stupid, chaos incarnate self.  

“Come on, let’s get this clock fixed,” he grumbles, getting back up on his feet. 

“What?” 

“I think you’re right,” he says, sticking his arm out to help you up. 

“Huh?” you blink at him. “I know the footage is gonna get erased again, but I need you to say that into the camera once for me. And state that you’re of sound mind and body while you’re at it.”

He sends you a look. “Come on.”

“I fixed it already, Bucky.”

“What’s the time?” He ignores you.

“Nearly 12,” you tell him, checking your phone. 

“Need you to be precise.”

“Why?”

“Humour me,” he says calmly. “Details are for losers, remember?”

“11:57 and 32 seconds.”

He manually winds the big arm up, the short hand still following. Until the seconds ticker matches the time you were calling out, down to the last second.

“What are you doing?” you enquire curiously, peeking over his shoulder.

“Making it match real time,” he tells you. “Properly.”

He checkes gears and pushes pendulums and everything works like it’s brand new. You’d gotten real good at this. 

“11:59 and 43 seconds,” you call.  

Bucky closes his eyes, forcing his breath to remain steady. It’s the first time that evening he’s had more than a sliver of hope. 

“57 seconds,” you say quietly, voice tired. 

And then there's silence. 

He doesn't have the energy to open his eyes and find the machinery back to scraps. 

But eventually he does. And when he opens it again, you’re still standing there, near the machine. Not the entrance of the room. 

The clock reads 12:02.

He turns to you, calmly saying, “Let’s get out of here.”

The drive back home is silent, apprehensive with tension tight as a stretched rubber band. Like if you breathed too hard, you'd find yourself back in the dark room. 

You step in the elevator together, pressing the buttons for your floor and his. 

He doesn’t know whether it’s the fear or the fact that you've now spent several hours together when time didn’t make sense, but the ride up is slower than usual. 

Bucky stands with his back pressed to the wall of the elevator, eyes closed, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

“It never occured to me,” your voice is quiet. “It’s the one thing I didn’t think of because I was so focused on getting out.”

“Didn't think of it either.” Bucky’s shoulders shrug, eyes closed. “Not your fault.” 

“Kinda is.”

“I would've realised earlier if I paid attention,” he counters. 

You stare at him. 

“Are you done or should I keep going?”

You blow out an exhale. “This game sucks.”

“Don't play this shit with me. It's the one thing I'm good at.”

The elevator dings, creeping open on his floor.

He stays right where, back pressed against the wall, unmoving. 

“It's your floor,” you inform.

“I know.”

The door waits a few seconds before it closes.

It finally reaches your floor, opening with a bright ding. 

He watches you step out, casting an unsure look towards him.

You gesture awkwardly, “Do you need anything?”

“Nah,” he says, eyes still closed. 

“What are– oh,” you stop all of a sudden. “Is this your way of walking me to my door?”

Bucky’s face doesn’t betray any expression. “See you later.”

You fight a smile, raising two fingers to give him a wave. 

He gives you a small nod as the door closes on him, reaching forward to press the button to his floor again.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

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[eliasorchard]

a place to belong — william j. moriarty x wife!reader

tags: fluff, family dynamics, comfort and care, short drabble

author: for rose from the ask here. i always love her little ideas lol, they're so cute. also, this is kinda funny because i had the freakiest rap playing in the bg while i wrote this 😭

"this will be your room for the next few days," william stated, pushing open a door to reveal a spacious chamber, warmly lit and outfitted with four small beds, each with a thick quilt. "make yourselves comfortable."

he turned to look at the children—a ragtag bunch, clothes tattered, face smudged with dirt and eyes wide with awe and cautiousness all at once. they limped as they stepped inside, blood slowly dousing the bandages they had just been treated with before coming here.

the eldest kid, perhaps twelve, stepped forward cautiously—taking a protective stance of the three kids behind. the kid audibly gulped, hesitation clear on her face before finally speaking. "...why are you helping us?"

william's gaze softened just slightly. "because i can."

before he could elaborate, a voice called from behind. "william? i thought i heard you come in—" you appeared at the doorway, clothed in your nightdress. your face swept over the scene, the wounded children clustered together, scared and looking like cornered animals, and softened. "and who are these little ones?"

"they've had a rough time," william smiled warmly at you, his expression becoming gentle upon seeing you. "i thought it would be best if they stay here while they recover."

"alright then." you said, nodding your head. you approached them slowly, before crouching to their level. "i'm (name). you'll be safe here, i promise." a pause, and then: "have you eaten?"

the youngest, a boy about six, shook his head. the others followed suit. "well," you got off your knees. "that won't do. let's see about getting you all fed. how does stew sound? louis has only made fresh bread today, too."

the children exchanged hesitant glances, but when the youngest nodded, the others followed—guarded faces easing a little.

over the next few days, your warmth had gradually brought them out of their shells. during the day, you led them through the gardens, and they all seemed impressed by flowers and herbs. even fred looked happy teaching them the names of the flora growing there. the children shared their meals with you, and at night—you read to them before they fell asleep.

the younger two children followed you like shadows while the older ones began to pepper you with questions about the manor and it's mysterious rooms that they weren't allowed in. they really thought of you as a mother figure—one time, the youngest one had even accidentally let the word slip, calling you 'mom'.

it was the younger girl who asked one evening, after supper. "can we see mr. william's study, mrs. (name)?"

the other children perked up at the idea, their curiosity plain and present on their faces. you paused, pretending to consider.

"his study?" you whispered, feigning shock. "hmmm, i'm not sure. that's where he keeps all his most serious and boring things. are you sure you children are ready for such a place?"

the young boy tugged on your sleeve—giving you the biggest puppy eyes. "...please, mrs. (name)?"

you had to bite the inside of your cheek to hide the grin that was creeping it's way up your face. you sighed theatrically. "alright, but you all must be very quiet. agreed?"

the study was dim and imposing, it's walls lined with shelves brimming with books, maps and strange instruments. the children tiptoed their way in, eyes wide as saucers.

"wow! look at this!" one of the girls whispered, pointing to a celestial globe on the desk. another flipped through a book of intricate mathematical diagrams, while the remaining two crowded around a large map pinned to one of the walls.

you moved among them, explaining what you knew. you picked up an item, pretending to use it—which made the children giggle. their innocent laughter rang softly through the room.

unbeknownst to them, william stood just outside the door—leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. he watched quietly, a faint and warm smile playing on his lips.

"mrs. (name)," one of the children curiously inquired, pointing at an item on the low shelf. "what's this thing?"

before you could answer, william cleared his throat. "that," he explained as he stepped inside of the room. "is an astrolabe."

the children flinched, caught in the act. they face him slowly, the youngest muttering a little "oops." you shrug your shoulders, speaking smoothly. "we were just.... admiring your collection."

"is that so?" william asked, raising an eyebrow but his tone was mild. he walked to his desk and picked up the celestial globe. "If you're going to explore, you might as well learn something."

he set the globe on the table and motioned for them to gather around. the children hesitated at first, but eventually crowded close as william began to explain the constellations. his voice was calm and patient and he seemed to take genuine satisfaction in their wide-eyed fascination, unable to stifle his soft laughs at the children's amused "ooh"s and "ah"s.

you leaned against one of the bookshelves, watching the scene unfold in front of you. warmly smiling your husband guide their little hands over the globe—it was an endearing sight.

[lu-is-not-ok]

quick question, how we feeling about hong Lu's new id after the trailer? I am personally so fucking hyped

Oh there's a lot I am feeling. Not just about Hong Lu's new id, but I am feeling things about them regardless.

I don't usually do full analysis on walpurgy trailers, but I want to at the very least plop down some observations I noted.

One - THERE IS A NEW TRACK IN THE SECOND HALF??? I can tell it's not originally from Ruina. They added. A wholeass new track. For the Church of Broken Gears fight. Fucking Incredible Honestly.

Two - Nothing too interesting going on with the Full Stop Heathcliff voice lines we got. It's mostly reiteration of the ammo-preserving ideas we got from Ruina's Full Stop Office reception, but we do get a little bit of lore through the full name of one of the ammo we see being used - Atelier Logic-made high velocity pulverisation round.

Three - Gameplay trailer for Full Stop Heathcliff. Three-coin Skill 1. One-coin Skill 2. One-coin Skill 3. Special Skill 3/Skill 4 that uses a cinematic as fuck animation of a unique bullet, my guess is that this Skill is used for either the last Ammo or through some other unique conditional. Evade that causes a followup attack from Full Stop Hong Lu. Retreat mechanic similar to Devyat IDs, but in this case upon running out of Ammo. Upon return, Heathcliff uses another Skill 1 - I'm guessing this is to showcase that this retreat is a Reload mechanic.

Four - Full Stop Hong Lu voice lines. So can we talk about the middle line? "I don't think the Head wants people to die anti-climactically. But what is an anticlimatic death anyway? We can put all kinds of meaningful labels on deaths, but it's still death at the end of the day." Hey. Hey Hong Lu. What the fuck are you talking about? This is terrifying because this could have two equally as likely explanations. This could be a Baoyuism, a musing about Daiyu's death being meaningless. OR. This could be a Daiyuism, a musing on the nature of death not unlike that of the flower burial scene. And the fact that both fit scares me.

Five - Gameplay trailer for Full Stop Hong Lu. Two-or-three-coin Skill 1. Four-or-five-coin Skill 2. Maybe four-coin Skill 3. Hard to tell if every gunshot is one coin or not. Then, we get something that I fucking called - Full Stop Hong Lu has an alternate Skillset for when he runs out of Ammo. Three-coin Skill 1. Three-coin Skill 2. Three-coin Skill 3. Next up, clashable Counter with two coins and what seems like a Reload. Then, a similar followup attack, in this case Full Stop Heathcliff shooting as a followup to Hong Lu's attack. And another followup attack mechanic, except in this case while Heathcliff has retreated - he can snipe enemies from afar.

Six - Quick note on Magic Bullet Outis E.G.O animation: I don't think what we're seeing is one continuous cinematic of one E.G.O use. I think this E.G.O will display different animations and have different effects depending on the amount of uses, aka depending on the amount of Magic Bullet Ammo. Similar to how Magic Bullet Outis ID's Skill 3 changes depending on the amount of Magic Bullet Ammo.

Seven - Magic Bullet Outis E.G.O Voice lines. Cause holy shit there's a lot of them.

Awakening:

"It really is as you say; this is a magic bullet that will never miss." - This is obviously a reflection of how the bullet is given through a deal with the devil... which then makes me think. Was Outis's role in the war also a deal with the devil? Was there someone in her life who willingly gave her the position of commander?

"There's no going back when I've already come this far by firing the bullet. Even if this road I walk is an inevitable path to inferno." - A reflection of Outis's own feelings. She feels like after what she's done, she can't turn back and change, even if she knows that continuing down this path will spell her doom. It's an insecurity we see be partially unearthed in Canto 7.

"The despairing heart is burnt black, never to fade away. Only its shearing cold floods within." - Perhaps a hint to her deeper feelings. Despair is what led her to taking the deal, and in the process she had to burn her heart and leave it with nothing but cold within.

"Though it was despair that I sought, the bullet's trajectory... is predetermined!" - Something something this flow cannot be stopped. Outis feeling like no matter her motivations she can't change what she's doing because she's in far too deep.

Corrosion:

"A bullet was fired, a magic bullet that will never miss." - Interesting how in these she completely dissociates herself from the bullet firing. Perhaps it's a reflection of how she deals with the crimes she's committed. Detaching herself from them, seeing them as just something that happened

"No justice, no malice. Only a finger that pulls the trigger." - Not just personal dissociation, but a dissociation from any emotions. Trying to say there is No real motivation for the bullet, it's just something that happens regardless. There's no malicious intent, but no righteous justice either. Just calculated violence.

"I'll be left alone in this inferno at the end of the road." - Girl you are so abandonment issues. This could be a reflection of both how she's worried about whether anyone is waiting for her to come back, but also an insecurity about whether anyone will accept her for knowing what she's done.

"Though I may lack the will to move forward... ...the bullet's forward-momentum cannot be stopped." - Reflection of how Outis, despite not wanting to continue down this path, feels like she has no choice. This flow cannot be stopped. Unable to change, she continues on.

To me, the awakening is a reflection of Outis when it all began. When she took the deal at the start of the war. The corrosion on the other hand is a reflection of Outis how she is now. One who is distant from the past, and yet unable to move on from it.

[thejournallo]

Explain the basic: how to work with deities.

Working with deities in witchcraft is a deeply personal and spiritual practice, often based on the traditions of Paganism, Wicca, or eclectic witchcraft. The approach can vary widely depending on the deity, the practitioner’s beliefs, and the cultural or spiritual framework they follow.

There are many ways to understand if you’re being called by a deity or if that deity is available to work with you. Over the course of my journey as a witch, I’ve created some questions to help me recognize when a deity might be by my side:

Have I dreamed about this deity? You might dream about a deity, often through symbols or representations, such as animals or other forms connected to their essence.

Have I noticed symbols associated with this deity? Seeing recurring symbolism tied to the deity could be a sign.

Do I frequently encounter angel numbers? Repeated sequences of numbers might indicate divine communication.

Is the candlelight flickering more than usual? Unusual behavior in candle flames can be a subtle sign.

Do I smell something that isn’t physically present? For example, you might suddenly smell fresh oranges in your room, even though there’s no source for that scent.

These aren’t the only ways to recognize if a deity is truly with you or calling you. Sometimes, you’ll simply know. The questions I’ve shared are based on my personal experiences, and I’ve included them here because they might help. However, they’re not mandatory for working with a deity—they’re just a guide to assist you on your journey.

Here’s a general guide on how to work with them:

1. Research and Understand the Deity

Before attempting to work with any deity, it's important to understand their history, mythology, personality, and attributes. Deities come from a variety of pantheons—Greek, Roman, Norse, Celtic, Egyptian, Hindu, and others—each with their own unique qualities and domains. Research their sacred symbols, stories, traditional offerings, and rituals.

Pantheon: Decide whether you're drawn to a specific pantheon (e.g., Greek, Norse, Egyptian). Some practitioners work with deities from multiple pantheons, but others feel it’s important to focus on one tradition.

Attributes: Know what each deity is associated with. For example, Aphrodite is the Greek goddess of love and beauty, while Hecate is a goddess associated with magic, the moon, and the underworld.

2. Establish a Relationship

Working with deities is less about commanding them and more about developing a respectful relationship. Like human relationships, this often takes time, intention, and understanding.

Respect and Intent: Approach them with reverence, rather than demands. Ask for guidance, wisdom, or energy, but be respectful of their time and presence.

Meditation and Invocation: A common way to start is through meditation, where you quietly call upon the deity, focusing on their energy and essence. Invocation rituals, where the deity is formally called into your sacred space, are also widely used.

Dreamwork and Signs: You can ask the deity for signs in your dreams or waking life. This could come in the form of symbols, animals, or even strong feelings or ideas that seem to arise from nowhere.

3. Create a Sacred Space

A dedicated altar or space for your deity is a good way to establish a connection. This can be as simple or elaborate as you wish, but it should feel sacred to you and aligned with the deity’s energy.

Altar: Place items associated with the deity on the altar, such as candles, statues, crystals, or symbols that represent them. For example, if you work with Athena, you might place an owl figurine (a symbol of wisdom) or a spear (a symbol of war and strategy) on the altar.

Offerings: Regular offerings are a sign of respect and devotion. These can include food, flowers, herbs, incense, or wine. Choose offerings that align with the deity’s preferences—Dionysus might appreciate wine, while Demeter could be honored with grains or bread.

4. Rituals and Prayers

Rituals and prayers are a key part of working with deities in witchcraft. These can range from simple daily prayers to more elaborate ceremonial rituals.

Daily Devotions: Some practitioners recite prayers, light candles, or offer simple gestures like lighting incense in honor of their chosen deity. This helps keep the connection alive.

Full Moon or Sabbats: Special rituals can be conducted during significant times, such as the full moon (Esbats) or during one of the seasonal Sabbats (e.g., Samhain, Beltane) that align with the deity’s domain or energy.

5. Ask for Guidance or Assistance

Once you’ve developed a relationship, you can ask the deity for guidance, blessings, protection, or specific outcomes. Remember, though, that deities are not forces to control—they are powerful entities with their own wills.

Petitioning the Deity: Clearly state your request and what you hope for in your ritual. It’s often helpful to frame the request in terms of "please guide me" or "assist me with wisdom" rather than demanding outcomes.

Divination: Many witches use divination methods, such as tarot, runes, or pendulums, to communicate with deities and receive answers. This is particularly helpful when you’re seeking guidance.

6. Listen and Respect Boundaries

Deities are ancient and powerful, and it’s essential to respect their boundaries and listen to any messages or feelings you receive. Some deities may not respond or may decline to work with you, which is part of the spiritual process.

Patience: Don’t expect immediate results. Building a relationship with a deity takes time, and their responses can come in subtle ways.

Signs and Symbols: Be open to signs from the deity in your everyday life. You may see symbols, animals, or experience synchronicities that align with their energy.

Trust Your Intuition: Sometimes the deity will communicate in ways that are deeply personal to you. Trust your intuition when you feel their presence or receive guidance.

7. Balance Your Work with Action

Working with deities involves both spiritual practice and real-world action. If you are asking for help or guidance, also take practical steps in your own life to align with your desires. The deity may offer support, but you need to take responsibility for your actions and goals.

8. End Your Rituals with Gratitude

Always thank the deity for their time and guidance, whether or not you feel you received a clear response. Gratitude strengthens the relationship and shows that you respect the energy you’ve called upon.

Offerings of Thanks: Even if your request isn’t immediately granted, it’s good practice to offer thanks with a small gift, such as flowers, herbs, or a simple verbal thank-you.

9. Work with Deities in Line with Your Values

It’s important to choose deities that resonate with your personal values and goals. Some deities are more chaotic or represent aspects of life that might be difficult to manage (e.g., trickster gods like Loki), so be mindful of their nature and whether you are ready to work with their energy.

10. Ethics of Working with Deities

Respect the cultural context of the deities you work with. For example, if you are working with a deity from a living, closed tradition (like the Orishas in Santeria or Vodou), it’s important to understand and honor the culture and protocols around that deity. Be cautious about appropriating deities from traditions you are not familiar with or initiated into.

Working with deities in witchcraft can be a powerful and transformative experience, but it requires respect, dedication, and mindfulness. Each deity has their own personality, preferences, and energy, so take the time to build a meaningful relationship.

[shuenkio]

𝓡𝓸𝓬𝓴 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓨𝓸𝓾 | 엔.하.이.픈 .☘︎ ݁˖ 제이

Paring: Jay X M!reader | Genre: Angst

Synopsis: Situation-ship being awkward between the two that left the fans wondering what was going on, until it was burning a lil too much.

Cw: none, fluff angst without plot?

Non proof read | Eng is not my first.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A♡N: Laterally wrote this at night, after thinking I should at least update something which is now this is my first update in the new year >:)

The dim yellow light filled the small room, comfort and peacefulness with the long lamp fire, yet the tension didn't get along with the vibe. The awkwardness between this situation-ship boyfriends are put in the same room together, to reflect for what they had done during today that making none other than the fan worries, breaking the internet, and a lot of people assume this and that, the leader and the manager couldn't help but to make the right choice.

Back then, during the debut time weren't they the closest, the sweetest of all everyone but now after getting into a private relationship, it turned out to be crispy as if the sugar pie got burned ? Turns out they had made a dumb decision by ignoring, not interaction, the awkwardness between the both in order to protect their love from the company. Well that only works for the eyes of the boss but not the supporter. The pierce eagle eyes are everywhere, as if a detective in a bird form flows above the sky watching their move every step. Not only in real life, the internet is far worse.

The tension continued to grow, it was so thick that no one dared to breathe, to break this awful silence. As a result m/n push the boundaries by making the first move.

"Okay hyung, let's drop the act. This cannot be carried on, the plan only works for the company but the fans are something... It went viral and shit— soon the company would know at the end. We must...do something " looking down, though it seems to not be working at this time, the rose in a cage of glass did not grow into a velvet bright Beautiful flower at all, but it is going to be dead if one, didn't do anything from now.

Meanwhile Jay, also puzzling for both, what should they do next, drop the act and be normal? Like they used to during those old times? Will it work, the fan won't worry anymore? While being an idol, fans are the most impactful of their career, can't not be left out, and do anything like we wanted to, yet to please them with something they wanted. It's horrible just to imagine, however Jay seems to snap and understand why fans are worried, because he actually did it a bit far, he's not going to blame m/n since all along, this was the idea he was suggested. He needs to carry all by himself which he Glad too.

Seeing the upset and longing expression on his lover's face, Jay felt like he just got hit by a bus. He needs to make it right, to turn this shitty situation ship into a healthy bloom again.

Intertwined with m/n's fingers, Jay pull him closer as he gently let m/n's head on his tone chest while whispering.

"I'm sorry you have to go through my shit, our shit. This is all my fault, let's give us another chance hm? This Jay will make us become unstoppable again, even If I need to pay a fortune— even my heart" Jay claims, the determined in his burning eyes prove he can make both of you run on the right path again. Your boyfriend is Jay park of course.

Feeling his warm heartbeat, m/n didn't let go, continue to stay in his lover's chest for god knows how long before sneaking in his hands, and wrapped around like vice, afraid it'll slipped again. This is their once loved life experience now, which no one would want to walk on the same shoe again.

"let's rock together, I won't let it happen again from now on, nothing can stop us for one more time right?" Then a heartwarming forehead kiss, print on m/n's forehead In such a romantic way that it grows on their brain. As both pressed together, savoring and cherishing this moment.

Love win all?

[cherrysurf]

Winning you back

-where the haikyu boys try to win back you there ex gf.

-contains; daichi, suga, hinata, kageyama, kenma, kuroo, suna, osamu

Daichi; This man is a cop BEST FUCKING BELIEVE hes out patrolling by your usual bars definitely not on purpose to watch over you, so of course you coming out a bar hammered and ready to head home but your friends wanting you drag you to another bar you quickly look for an alibi and who was the best one the cop that was standing right behind you “uh huh no can do this officer said he’d arrest me if i went to another bar right sir” you say slurring your words a bit “that’s right ma’am” the voice sounding awfully familiar till you turn around and see daichi which made your cheeks turn painfully red not just from the alcohol now.. “w-well come on you know the way back to my house let’s go.” you say flustered but really can’t back down now “alright let’s go missy want me to carry you like i used too can you walk home?” he said, smirking very much enjoying this. “carry me.” you whispered “huh? I can't hear you, can you say it louder?” he asked cupping his ear as if to mock you “oh whatever daichi i can walk” you say pushing past him to walk ahead, when you feel strong buff arms pick you up “it’s Mr.daichi to you tonight yn.” he said laughing you roll your eyes and scoff.

sugawara; THIS MAN he is pulling out the “oh the kids wanted me to bring this to you they said they miss you dropping off my lunches and saying hi” because of course you still kept in contact after the breakup because he was mature on it and it was just because you guys were so close and you had formed a bond with his students so imagine how excited him and the kids get when you come in a week later bringing suga lunch “OOOO MISS YN IS BACKKKK” they all say, safe to say suga knew he had you back into his life after that day

hinata; this man is PERSISTENT he’d send you tickets for all his home games even if you guys aren’t talking and then one fateful night it was a big important game for hinata that you had knew about before you two had ended things so you decided to show up and wear his jersey in support, the tickets he’d always give you were up close to the court so if you ever did show up he’d know. Imagine the look on his face when he saw you, he was already feeling down and was actually starting to give up hope on any idea of you coming back together. that all changed after he saw you not just being there but wearing his jersey at that, safe to say he showed off and won and took you out to dinner as a “thank you” gift.

kageyama; I know everyone writes kageyama nonchalant but imagine YEARNING KAGEYAMA with me for a sec this man is sending you flowers every other week the first time he sent you them with a note a attached to it saying “even if we’re not together i refuse to have your flower vase empty so let me take care of that for you.” and it’s never the same flowers it’s always perfect curated ones for every week or two that somehow perfectly aligned with your mood, maybe it’s because he still follows you on instagram even if you have him on follow back because he cares about you, so it’s your birthday week and the wave of presents you get from this man ALONE was insane and then on your birthday you wake up to tons of tags and mentions but one stuck out specifically it was from kageyama's instagram on his VERY PUBLIC might i add it’s a picture of you but not your face showing with a small sentence saying “happy birthday ml i’ll never stop caring for you” safe to say that night you went out to a birthday dinner with him.

kuroo; you and him ended on good terms and also because you two had booked a trip before you two had broken up that you still decided to go on, you thinking it was a simple get together for break maybe even going off to do your own things at the place but for kuroo it was a week long of “how to get yn back” it involved romantic dates, walks on the beach, impressing you, dressing up, compliments alamode the whole nine. Which worked out successfully because by the time you guys came back he was already talking about getting engaged.

kenma; You two wouldn’t have been on speaking terms for about 3 weeks until you noticed an invite sent to you on discord to join a minecraft world, you being bored and curious click on it and find that he made an ENTIRE world dedicated to you and saying sorry, i kid you not even minutes later you get a knock at your door, as you look down you find a gift basket for all your favorite snacks, gift cards from various of your favorite stores, v-bucks and a cute apologetic note. You know kenma knows that he's probably lingering around the area in his car. That’s when you text him “doors unlock come inside let’s 1v1 i know you brought your gaming stuff.” and that he did, NOT EVEN 5 minutes later you hear a knock and kenma with a smile and arms full of his gaming stuff.

suna; he’d take a different approach to getting you back because as serious as he was he was always super funny so imagine your reaction when you hear music coming from your front yard while it was raining to find suna with a boombox over his head blasting your favorite song, you ended up recording this whole ordeal and sending it to atsumu and osamu since they needed some blackmail after countless years of blackmail suna had on them, by the second repeat of the song you had called him to come inside and gave him a warm cup a tea as you laugh about the situation and he gets spammed by texts from the miyas about how stupid it was of him to do this he didn’t care because he was wrapped up in your blanket, with your tea you made for him, and was gonna stay at your house because the rain only got worse after that.

osamu; It’s been about a week of no contact even though neither of you had mentioned it, it was killing you both. Anyways it was the first day of your period and you were craving his cooking because you fully believed it was the only thing that healed you from cramps as you were about to head out for the convenient store to find something to suppress your cravings that’s until you see him at your door which startled you a bit “gosh osamu you scared me what are you doing here?” you asked confused yet happy “uhm i still had your period tracker on my phone..NOT IN A WEIRD WAY i promise i just forgot to delete it and i know how you usually like my food on the first day since it’s your worst day so i'd figure id stop by..” he said nervously “well..you guess right i was gonna go to the store if you wanna come we can get groceries so you can cook i don’t have anything right now” you say happy inside that he came to your rescue “okay i'll drive.” he says happily to weasel his way back into his pretty ex gfs life

[kyokutsu-sama]

Hiiii how are you doing my dear? I hope that you're taking care of yourself and not overworking yourself 😊 it's my first time requesting so I'm sorry if I didn't do it right english is not my mother language so sorry 😭 anyway I just want to put this idea in here because it was stuck in my head for a while and I really love your writing it always makes my day better everytime I read one of your works, so the thought is bleach men (especially kenpachi this thought come in the first place because of him😭) having a cute aggression everytime they see their wife because damn how a woman can be this cute and pretty all the time that they can't help themselves 😭😭(plz take your time and don't overwork yourself you can ignore it if you want it's ok I just want to tell you how much I love you and your work 🥺💗🫂).

Hi!! @thebestgirlever2 I'm doing very well and I hope you're doing well too. First of all, your English is very good and don't worry because English is not my native language either and secondly, I'm very happy that you like my work here. It motivates me a lot and thank you for your affection🥹❤️❤️

So here's the thing, at this moment I wasn't writing for the Bleach fandom but I decided to make some exceptions (as I also mentioned in the post about requests) and since it's also your first time making a request, I decided to write it.

I hope this is what you had in mind and I hope you like it😊 I wrote to my big boys just to see their hearts soften with so much cuteness🤭

Characthers : Kenpachi, Shunsui, Kensei, Grimmjow

🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️

Kenpachi :

Our giant and brute Kenpachi was constantly in an internal battle when he saw you do something. Even if it was the simplest thing in the world, his heart would melt because he found you so cute. He didn't usually admit it out loud even though you were his wife, but your expression, your looks, everything was so clear that everyone could see it. Yachiro pointed it out several times, but he just made a face and grumbled. "Y/n is so cute and you know it too. Admit it!" She said, pulling on the sleeve of his kimono trying to get his attention "Yes, she really is." He thought, looking at the girl and seeing her playful air

Yumichika and Ikkaku also noticed the way he blushed slightly when you greeted him with a smile that made his heart of stone melt and made the man's bloodlust dry up. Deep down, he liked this effect on him. One day he was sitting on the porch watching you tend to some flowers in the garden. Your hands were small and soft compared to his, which were large and calloused, your face so focused and fragile as you worked, your long, flowery sundress that matched the garden around you. He clenched his fist, feeling angry at all the cuteness in front of him. "How is it possible to be so..." He thought, trying to restrain himself from going to you and picking you up, hugging you and holding you close to him But the voices in his head won out and he got up and went to do what his thoughts wanted. You got up and suddenly saw a large silhouette blocking the sun and when you turned around you saw him with his usual serious face, but little did you know that he was finding you so cute now. "Oh Kenpachi, you were there! I didn't even realize that--" You hadn't finished speaking and he was already lifting you off the ground for a hug and squeezing you in his arms. "Kenny, what are you doing?!" You said breathlessly due to the squeeze. "Nothing." He said, pulling your face away from his chest for a moment to show you an innocent look "Nothing? You're crushing me against you." You giggled "What? You looked really cute just now." He said, rolling his eyes and you laughed "Oh! Looks like my arrogant giant is finally letting his guard down. How cute!" You poked his cheek and he turned his face away "Shut up." He grumbled and you smiled

Shunsui :

He just can't stand it. You look so beautiful and so cute in everything you do, in the way you walk and even the way you breathe. He never makes a point of hiding how cute you are and how important you are to him. Your gentleness and your smile were what captivated him the most. Nanao was already fed up with having to hear him praise you, every five minutes. "Yes, Captain, you've said that several times." She sighed, rolling her eyes. "No, I don't think you understand. She's wonderfully cute." He said again "Here we go again..." One day he was coming home after work (not that he really did much besides drinking sake and sleeping) and when he entered the room and saw you sleeping so deeply in bed, wrapped in the sheets, so quiet and asleep, his heart melted. "My petal looks so cute, sleeping like an angel." He said with both hands on his chest and with a little laugh He approached you, caressing your sleeping face, wanting to pinch your cheeks after an episode of 'cute aggression' but he restrained himself not to wake you up. "How can she be so cute." He thought He took off his flowery kimono and lay down next to you, pulling you close to him in a tight hug, distributing kisses from your shoulders to your cheeks. You moved a little and he stopped immediately. "No, no, no! Go back to sleep, don't wake up, you're sleeping very well. Very very well, petal." He said, caressing your face and you, still asleep, turned to him to hug him "That's right, dear. I don't want to wake you up."He said, giving you one last kiss on the cheek before going back to sleep Damn, I already missed writing a little about him😭

Grimmjow:

This man definitely changed from a panther to a kitten when he met you. And after marriage, it intensified. He still remembers the way you were always pushing his buttons and the way he lost his mind when you did it, but later he realized that he didn't have the courage to do anything about it. Yes, he would grumble and tell you to shut the fuck up, but he wouldn't yell or insult you. You had an effect on him that started to irritate him in the early days, but after he realized that he was in love, he started to feel more at ease. Of course, he was still too proud to admit that you were so cute, but so cute that he just wanted to hug you close to him and give you a ton of bites (love bites cause he's a kitty🐈). One day you were in the kitchen preparing something to eat when you heard the front door open. Grimmjow was mad after having crossed paths with Ichigo. His rival. "That idiot, I swear, one day I'm going to beat the shit ou of that son of a b--" He entered the kitchen, furious, screaming, and when he was going to punch the wall to release his anger, he noticed that you were standing there in the corner and his fist was only a few inches from the wall, which prevented it from being destroyed. Seeing you so quiet and cute, looking at him made him quickly recover and look away in embarrassment. You also couldn't help but be curious to know what had made him like that. Deep down you knew that it had probably been something very trivial because it didn't take much to make this man angry. "Are you okay?" You asked, approaching him. "You seem a little angry right now. Did something happen?" "No, it's okay, don't worry. It's all sorted out." "Seriously? Because it really seemed like you cross paths with Ichigo again." "Oh, don't say that name..." He growled, closing his eyes and clenching his fists "Okay, okay, I won't say the name again. Fine!" You said, raising your hands in surrender "Thanks." "But other than that, how was your day? Did you need anything? Are you feeling tired?" You said with a smile that made his heart soften and his tough personality fall He stared at you for a while, admiring your expression and you looked at him a little confused by his silence. "Is everything okay?" You poked his cheek and he nodded before pulling you into a tight hug "Stay here for at least five minutes, okay?" He asked and you nodded against his chest You didn't know what had made him do that so suddenly, but one thing was for sure, it was all he wanted at that moment to be able to calm down.

Kensei :

Another one who has a tough personality but always has a cute aggression attack when you pass by him or you've only been together for five minutes. Mashiro used to tease him about it when she noticed it. "You and Y/n make a really cute couple. I can see how you look at her and your cheeks get blushed. But Kensei, you two are already married, why do you keep blushing like a teenager?" She said, laughing at him and he clenched his fist, one of his eyes twitching and feeling a vein bulging in his neck "Shut up you idiot! Stop teasing me!!" He yelled and she laughed even harder seeing that she had managed to get him out of his mind Deep down, he knew she was right. You really got to him even though you two were married. He looked at you and always thought you were cute. One day he was coming home and saw you sitting on the couch watching TV, but as he got closer he saw that you were sleeping sitting up. You probably ended up falling asleep watching TV while you waited for him. He felt a little guilty about it, but it was his job. As much as he wanted to be close to you, it was hard sometimes. He turned off the TV and took the pillow that was on your lap, picking you up bridal style, slowly so you wouldn't wake up. When he got to the bedroom, he put you on the bed and that's when you woke up, seeing him sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you. "Did I wake you up?" He asked "I let myself fall asleep in the living room, didn't I?" You asked, yawning "Yes, and I brought you back to the bedroom. I'm sorry I was late." He said, running his hand over your face and looking away "It's okay, love. I know it's your job. I wanted to wait for you, but I couldn't. I ended up falling asleep." You held his hand He looked at you and seeing your sweet smile and the way you were always so understanding, made him want to hug you and not let go until the next day. "Come to sleep, you look tired." You said he just nodded, taking off his clothes and lying down next to you "Come here." He pulled you to him and held you in a tight hug against him, letting out a long sigh. "This is what I needed." He whispered and you patted his arm "Kensei, I can't breathe properly." Your voice was muffled by the closeness and that was when he released you a little so you could breath properly. "I'm sorry, honey, it's just that you... seemed too cute just now." He confessed with a blush on his face and you giggled "You too, your cheeks are blushing." You pointed and he hugged you again so you wouldn't see. "Kensei." You fidgeted "Shut up." He grumbled

[lunebulous]

How would Xavier react to seeing you dressed as a bride?

C.w: fluff, non-established relationship, xavier x reader, sfw, corpse bride mentions, not proofread.

You and your friends were planning on having a professional photoshoot done, discussing it over the phone for months. The suggested concepts varied: one of your friends wanted to do the trend with weird poses and everybody wearing christmas sweaters; and it was quickly shut down because 2 of you didn’t celebrate christmas. Another one suggested doing it at a beach, wearing flowy dresses and posing with flowers, but everybody agreed it was too serious, not depicting the real vibes of the group. Lexy: Come on, flowy dresses and flowers? What's this? a pregnancy shoot?!! Sammy: nooo we could do it in a fairy wayy, pleeeease Amely: lmao let’s do it and I’ll go dressed as the father  After ‘going as the father’ got to the chat, one of them suggested wearing costumes, because all of you were complete nerds for different fandoms, and most of you mentioned in a recent get-together that cosplaying must be fun and you guys were interested in it. As soon as the idea got out, all of you were excited, and you chose your character instantly: Corpse bride. It was your all-time favourite movie since childhood and you saw a lot of your sensitivity in Emily: the way she chose to believe in love even after her horrendous death, her empathy, and even the worm inside her eye socket, that you attributed to the voices inside your head. 

The thing is: you guys were already paying for a professional photographer - with a discount, thank god - the place and all the transport for six people, so you didn’t want to spend a lot on your costume. You figured some blue body paint, good makeup, some modeling clay and a cheap thrift shop bride dress would do just fine. You already had a blue wig from a previous costume party, and you were confident in your skills to make it look amazing. The day came, and all of you were already reunited in a studio downtown owned by one of your friend's cousin, who was also the photographer. She was pretty chill with you guys getting ready, a girl’s girl, you must say. “Oh my god, your hair is so beautiful!” She approached behind your back, hands on her lips as she looked at your hair, pin-straight cascading against your back. You turned to look at her with a radiant smile. “Ah, you’re talking about me?! Thank you!” And immediately looked to the front again, concentrated on doing Amely’s makeup, who chose to be Lorax. “You know, I had long hair for most of my life, but I cut it in an impulsive thought and now I miss it so bad!!!” She took a closer look. “Can I touch it?” she takes her camera from her neck, placing it on a small table next to you. “Of course, feel free to do it! I actually love when people play with it!” You answer, smiling to your almost all-orange friend, who teases: “hm, naughty girl huh.”, earning a stare from you. “Shut up! You have no rights when you’re looking like a sucked-on mango seed!” The photographer behind you laughs, now combing your hair with her fingers. “You know what! I have a Kanzashi! A Japanese hair pin, you know? I bought it before cutting off my hair and never got to wear it.” She brings a stool to sit behind me. “Can I try doing an updo with it on your hair as you finish her makeup?” “Are you sure? I’ll have to take it off to put on my wig!” You frown. “It’s okay, I just want to see what it looks like!” She says, walking away to get it from a drawer somewhere you can’t see right now. “I know you just called me a sucked-on mango seed but your makeup is so cute today.” Lorax- Amely said, smiling softly at you. Her yellow giant eyebrows going up and down, making you laugh. “Aw, thank you. I forgot that I’ll be blue in 5 minutes and went all out on it. I'm even wearing my new highlighter.” The orange friend takes your head in her hands like a basketball ball to take a closer look. “Oh it really looks good”. You tilt your head for her. “Yeah it does, I found it on-” you were interrupted when Anne - the photographer - came back with her hair pin. “Found it!!” Your other friends cheer from the other side of the room.

— “On a studio?” Xavier mutters to himself while he looks at his watch, seeing you’re close by. “Why..?”. He stops completely to check if you sent him a message, but the last one was you talking about how hungry you were, because you forgot to eat and had to rush to meet your friends. Sensing that you probably STILL didn’t eat anything, he thought that bringing you food would be a great excuse to know what you were doing in a studio - but most important - to see you. So that's what he did. Now leaning on the wall, in the front of the building where the watch indicates you’re in, his head looks to the side as a short-haired woman walks out, lighting a cigar. She nods. “Excuse me, I’m looking for someone.” He shows her a picture on his phone of you and him, in a festival. “Is she here?” He tries to be as polite as possible, so he can get in. “I just came to bring her her breakfast, she forgot to eat today.” He starts talking too much, lifting the bag to show her the food. “Oh yeah, she’s here. The girl with the long hair! I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. You can go in, it’s the last door to the left, second floor. Just knock.” She smiles politely, breathing out smoke in the opposite direction. Xavier’s ears get red as he looks away, but he doesn’t deny it. “Ah-” he sighs “thank you.” His heart is beating faster and he knows it’s because he just couldn’t bring himself to say he is NOT your boyfriend, because it’s the thing he wants to be the most right now. He presses the elevator button, trying to shake this feeling off his chest, failing. Now he starts pondering about how people would see you two as a couple, if someday he’d get the privilege to be your man. Would he be able to kiss you in public? You don't seem the kind of girl to like that. He'd love it. People would be sure you're his that way. Ah shit, he's whipped. The elevator door opens.

Part ||.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[luck-of-the-drawings]

smth smth about 'the thing that the character did that you thought was rly rly funny in the moment is actually linked to a terrible trauma that lies within said character.' or wahtever.

[arttlars]

Sanuso art I did for Valentine's day hehe

[puppppppppy]

valentines day pkmn wip ^_^

[not-so-superheroine]

Since it's not going in my article due to space constraints, i'll share a bit about Jane Manning James here. It won't be superfleshed out atm bc it got cut. I plan to do more later. As I am *Reorganized*, writing this for a Community of Christ publication, i researched Ld-S shared history to the point of Nauvoo. my article doesn't follow west (technically). the main resource was an LDS one (thank you v much for your freely available archive) asking about her time with the prophet of the Restoration.

Jane Manning James

A significant Black Latter Day Saint from the early church was Jane Manning James. A woman from Connecticut notably made the walk from Buffalo, New York to Nauvoo, Illinois on foot, with most of her family. This was only after being separated from the group of recently converted latter day saints in Buffalo, possibly due to their race. Jane was baptized in 1842 by missionaries in her home state of Connecticut. She recorded these things about her journey and arrival to Nauvoo and her faith when asked to recall her life living with Joseph Smith in 1905.

“When I went there [Nauvoo] I only had two things on me, no shoes nor stockings, wore them all out on the road… They [Joseph and Emma] was looking for us because I wrote them a letter. There was eight of us, my mother and two sisters and a brother and sister-in-law, and we had two children, one they had to carry all the way there, and we traveled a thousand miles.”

She was sure in her belief of the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ and Modern Prophecy. She says in her recollection, after seeing that Joseph Smith Jr was indeed the man in her vision in Connecticut, that “This is the Gospel of Jesus Christ and there will never be any other on earth. It has come to stay.” Sister James would later go west with the saints under the leadership of then Apostle Brigham Young.

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me tumblr posting again:

thank you for the example set Sister James on faith, dedication, and perseverance. She also had spiritual gifts, such as speaking in tongue and faith healing. She believed following the gospel, knowing it was a key to a better way of living life (for her.) it wasn't easy for her, and yet, i think the faith community i observe today (and mormonism in general) is better, just for her having lived it.

may she be at peace, and in a manner God, Sister Jane herself, and her family she led that meant so very much to her, see fit.