#and then we usually have fun or get something out of it

[wemlygust]

In my experience the best fiction does not follow up the first situation with an emotionally similar situation, even if it's escalated. At least not too many times in a row/for too long relative to the length of the story. That can end up feeling like the same situation stretched out way too far. You can only get away with that for so long before the reader just acclimates and gets used to it and none of the excitement feels as exciting anymore. Instead, my favorites alternate moods between scenes. Just had a super stressful chase scene? > Now we have a relaxing and/or funny scene to take some of that tension off. Just had a really emotionally fraught conversation scene? > Now for the shocking action scene, or the methodical investigative scene, perhaps. Just had a slow, leisurely, peaceful scene, where everything is great and the characters are happy? > Here comes the Cascade of Problems! Just had a cascade of problems? > Here is the safety, everything is good now! Oh wait, > here is the oh god my friend died during the cascade of problems scene, everyone is mourning now, tearjerking scene. Now that you've made everyone cry, it's time for > a really funny scene that makes the characters laugh even though it still hurts, or another action scene, or a thoughtful conversation scene, or maybe a romance scene. Next, maybe a good scare, then an action scene, maybe a couple more humorous moments mixed in, maybe some philosophical moments, whatever. Add another romance scene. Then bring the dead friend back to life (yay!) or don't and instead resolve that thread otherwise by having the characters come to terms in some sense with their death. But wait, betrayal from stage left! And so on. What emotion you switch to doesn't matter too much, as long as you move on to something, though not without abandoning the context of the previous scenes or the character development throughlines and suchlike. It doesn't have to be literally every other scene that the mood changes, and you don't have to include every possible mood, you can just pick a handful that contrast well; the point is just that the mood has to change and shouldn't just be the same the entire time, to keep things engaging instead of boring and one-note, imo. This is more true the longer the work is. A really short story can get away with being just 1 thing, but the longer a story gets, the more a one-note angst-fest or series of fight scenes or whatever gets exhausting instead of fun. This is why there are typewriter-rooms in Resident Evil games. The peaceful moments enable the horror in the other parts of the game, and there are similar peaceful spots in other horror media - even though and because horror is all about scaring and/or horrifying people. Like, the alien isn't right there chasing Ripley for the entirety of the movie Alien - the most intense scenes are spread out and interspersed with mystery and interpersonal drama and suchlike. Without the typewriter rooms, or an equivalent moment to breathe in other horror media, people either get overwhelmed and stop, or they acclimate and stop being scared. The peace and safety is needed in order to bring down the terror. Tl;dr: vary the type of situation. And sometimes the situation can be nice. Just keep changing it up. With faster or slower switches depending on how you want to do your pacing, and how long the story is overall. Also I actually think it's also fine to totally discard this type of writing advice and just, like, write slice-of-life feel-good fiction sometimes. Our culture shapes the kinds of stories we usually tell, and genre shapes that further, and it shapes writing advice like mine and that of the people above me in this reblog chain, because of what we have experience reading and what advice we have heard ourselves and so on, and it's okay to just throw all that out and do something else, too. Including whatever thing you've been told specifically not to do. Do that, if you want.

The point of fiction is actually to put that guy in a situation™️, and he might try to tell you the point is to then get him out of the situation, WRONG, second situation

[nickfowlerrr]

with you

part one

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. established relationship from everybody talks - but can be read as a standalone! feelings of loneliness. some angst. unprotected sex. squirting. use of pet names (sweetheart, doll, baby). dirty talk. heaps and heaps of fluff. if something needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: just about 8.5k

notes: a huge thank you to @whatever-lmaoo for beta-ing for me yet again! i appreciate you so much!! and i know, i know, a little late for a halloween fic- but i guess it’s okay bc this isn’t really all that halloweeney lol. honestly a little more personal than usual but i hope you all enjoy it anyway. please let me know what you think and thank you in advance for taking the time to read! 🩵

You’re pushing the basket, weaving your way through the aisles full of other semi last minute shoppers in search of their own Halloween costumes. You can’t get past a family spread out in the middle of the aisle as they contemplate their options aloud, no concern for the other people around them trying to shop. You suppress your eye roll but not the sigh of slight annoyance as you back up and move to the next aisle over, thankfully empty.

There aren’t many options here, but maybe something will give you an idea of what to dress up as. A couple minutes pass as you peruse the random assortment of costume accessories. Your mind is fully in idea mode as you try to piece something wearable together in your mind… you have that black maxi dress hanging in your closet, that could probably work as a good base.

You’re not paying attention to your surroundings as you nudge the basket further down the aisle while you examine two different pairs of long black gloves in your hands and take a step down the aisle to see the witch hats.

But do you really wanna be a witch? You purse your lips in thought before tossing the sets of gloves back into the big green cauldron you got them from. Your eyes linger on the witch section as you grasp the handle of the cart and start to push.

Before you set your head straight, you’re stopped in your path as you find yourself crashing into something. Oh gosh…

Someone.

Your apology is sputtering out past your lips before you can even turn to see the injured party, but once you do, and your eyes meet with sparkling blues, you stop your fumbling and sigh heavily in your relief.

“Oh, thank god,” you breathe as your shoulders relax. “I thought I actually hit someone.”

“Am I not someone?” Bucky scoffs with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“No, you are,” you assure him as you leave the basket and walk toward him, “but you’re my someone, so it’s okay and you have to forgive me.”

“Oh, I see,” he nods, eyeing you in your approach. You double check the aisle is still clear before kissing him, soft and fleeting.

“Did you find it?”

“Out of stock,” he frowns.

“Damn. We’ve looked everywhere, what now?”

“I don’t think ghosts lining the grass are gonna do much more than the full out display you’ve already set up, sweetheart. I think we’ll be okay,” he laughs.

“Yeah,” you sigh, a soft pout still on your lips, “you’re right. I just…”, a tight, heavy sigh leaves you as you shake your head, trailing off.

Bucky steps closer, his hand coming to rest on your waist, squeezing lightly.

“I know,” he says, softly.

You force a smile, taking his hand to hold in yours. “Alright, well, we got the candy and the groceries and the toothpaste,” you list aloud, trying to think if you’re forgetting anything.

“Toilet paper,” Bucky supplies, pushing the cart backwards before turning it to push it himself.

“Toilet paper! Who needs a list when I have you,” you lean into him as you walk before heading to the aisle ahead of him.

—

“Sweetheart?” Bucky calls from the kitchen as you wipe at the stray tear falling down your cheek. You blow your nose gently and close out of the app.

Another post of fall fun your nieces are having, and right below it another post from another costume party you weren’t invited to.

Don't let it get to you, you chide yourself. It's just the fomo sinking in. Nothing more.

You wipe at your cheeks before grabbing the door handle, calling down the stairs, "I'm coming!"

You make your way down the steps and are met at the bottom with Bucky, smiling like a schoolboy.

In his hands he holds a singular Halloween decoration.

"It's not light up ghosts, but,"

"It's perfect," you cut him off, smiling softly as you take the familiar ghost cutout from his hands.

You can't help but grin at the memory of your first Halloween with Bucky. Your first date. First meeting! God, it's been a whirlwind of a year.

Your eyes flicker to his and you immediately meet his stunning gaze; his already set on you.

"Just like you," he simpers.

You groan in jest, setting the cutout to rest along the stairs before you wrap your arms around him, leaning into his warm, solid hold. You sigh as he rubs your back comfortingly.

"Hey," he calls gently, causing you to pick up your head to look at him. "Talk to me. Please," he adds as your pout grows. "You've been off all week, what's going on?"

Your gaze drops to his chest as your arms drop from around him. He doesn't let you slip away as he takes your hand in his and leads you to the couch, pushing you down before he follows suit, wasting no time in getting you back in his hold once you're both comfortable. You let your head rest on his chest as he holds you.

"I miss my family," you say simply with a shrug.

He waits for more, but when he realizes you're done talking, he speaks himself.

"You've been missing them since we moved here," he presses, "I know it's not just that."

You mindlessly play with the buttons on his shirt, not able to make eye contact right now.

You swallow hard.

You know the truth, and you know Bucky deserves to know what you're thinking. After all, he did uproot his entire life for you after only knowing you five months...

"I just...I don't know."

You glance up at him, his eyes soft and gaze patient.

"I... What if this was just a huge mistake?" You ask. "Moving here. Just another stupid, selfish idea that I'm gonna regret by next year."

"Living your life away from your family isn't stupid or selfish," he says, no judgement in his soothing voice. "And, you know what we talked about before we moved here. No regrets. And if you decide you want to go back,"

"We go back," you nod. "I know."

"Well," he starts, "do you?"

"No," you answer right away. It's the truth. You don't. But still, that fear. The unknown, it nips at you. What if? "I knew this wasn't gonna be easy, but," you sigh, "what if I just don't belong here?"

His brows furrow, "Why wouldn't you?"

"It's been, what, seven months? And what do I have to show for it? And it's not just work-" you stop yourself before you start to rambling, taking a deep breath. "I haven't even made a single friend yet. All those sets and events and all those people I've met, and I just. I haven't fit in anywhere. No one...likes me," you trail off so quietly, not really wanting him to hear.

"Sweetheart, that is not true."

"You don't know that, Buck,"

"Oh, and you do?"

"I do. That gig on Monday," you stammer, embarrassed, "it's stupid," you try to brush off, not wanting to have to explain the memory.

He doesn't have to say a word with the look on his face.

You sigh, but continue.

"We were in between takes and everyone was talking, like, to each other in a group. And I was there, but like, I wasn't there. I was standing with everyone else and trying to be...engaging. But," you purse your lips as the embarrassment burns you anew. "And, they were talking about their plans for Halloween, and this girl said she was throwing a party, and she invited everyone, asked for their numbers so she could send them the information, and she got everyone's number. Except for mine. And I was just standing there, like, probably looking so lame," you try to laugh as your eyes sting, "pretending like I didn't notice, nonchalant," you breathe tightly, pulling at a loose thread on the little V of his henley.

"I followed some of the other people online for like, 'connections', ya know, for future work, and one of them posted pictures from the party, and like, everybody from that set was there. And it looked like so much fun. And, you know I don't even like parties," you throw out, "but...why wasn't I invited? Why," you pause, biting your tongue, "why didn't they like me?"

"Baby," Bucky coos, his touch featherlight and yet so stabilizing, "those are just a few people,"

"That wasn't an isolated incident, Bucky. That has been my entire life. I try not to let it bother me, but I try. So hard, I try to be...normal. Likeable. Friendly. And no matter what I do, or how well I think I play the part, I'm just a mess of introversion and social anxiety."

You can see how badly he wants to interrupt you and reassure you of your so-called perfection, but he doesn't. He lets you talk; he wants to hear you.

"You know how many parties I was invited to in school?" you ask rhetorically. "Not a single one. And the people I thought were my friends wer-" you shake your head. "I'd always try to console myself with the thought that it would get better as I got older, but I think...I think it actually hurts more now than it ever did back then. The nerds were friends with the nerds, and the popular kids were friends with the popular kids, and everybody had their group. But even in my 'group', I was just kinda there. Not alone, but alone. Fading into the background. Into the gray."

You sit in quiet for a long moment before continuing.

"But then I'd get home. And I'd be with my sisters, and all of a sudden I wasn't alone. And I was, like, really me. For forever, they were the only people who ever really, truly saw me. Who I was comfortable enough with to be myself," you turn into Bucky further, your hand still on his chest.

"Then I met you," you smile. "And I don't know how or why, but you see me."

"In technicolor," he whispers as he lets his knuckles brush your cheek. You close your eyes at his soft touch, melting further into him.

"I've just been feeling excluded, and then I start missing my sisters even more, and you know I love you, so much, but this job is just constant rejection and it all just piles on and I keep trying to get by without having to dwell on it all, but I know I can't keep doing that. I know I want to be here. And I can do this. It just, gets hard sometimes. And I've been getting in my head. And I'm sorry I haven't talked about it sooner. I don't want it to seem like I regret moving here, and I really don't want it to seem like I'm not so grateful that you're here with me. That you came all this way for me. It means the world; you mean the world to me."

"The feeling is mutual," Bucky simpers, the corner of his lips turning up as he watches you, his hand aimlessly wandering up and down your side. "I'd go anywhere with you, sweetheart. I know it's not the same, but for what it's worth, I like you. I'd want you at every party."

You smile at him as he cuddles you and can't help the fit of laughter that erupts from you as he squeezes you, nuzzling into your neck and peppering kisses along your delicate skin.

You catch your breath as he finally lets up and pulls away, only to lean his face closer to yours, kissing you softly.

"I'm really proud of you, you know. You're a lot stronger, and a lot braver than you give yourself credit for. And anyone would be lucky to be able to have you in their life, let alone to call you their friend. As your best friend, I should know," he adds playfully.

"You're my best friend?"

"And you're mine," he nods, eyes gleaming with that look that sends butterflies a flight in your tummy. Your eyes flick down to his lips for less than a second before he's kissing you again; just as soft, and twice as sweet.

"I love you," he murmurs.

"Iloveyou," you mumble back, just a little dumb from the depth of his kiss. You give yourselves a moment in your shared embrace before you speak again. "Okay," you sigh, "we gotta finish the yard so I can facetime the girls before they head out for trick or treating."

Bucky rolls off the couch before pulling you up after him as you extend your arm expectantly.

You’re surprised as Bucky’s hold doesn’t let up and he tugs you into him. You stare at him, eyes wide and curious.

“I’m sorry you’ve been feeling bad lately. Whatever you wanna do tonight, and tomorrow,” he emphasizes as you smile demurely, “you got it.”

“Because that wasn’t gonna happen anyway?” You tease, earning a smirk from him as you reach for his hand to drag him to the front of the house.

You pause in your path and spin to go grab your favorite little ghost decoration from the steps.

“I know exactly where this is going.”

—

The familiar ring of the Facetime call has you growing more and more giddy with anticipation as you wait your sister's answer.

But the longer you wait, the more fallen your smile becomes.

Your FaceTime isn't answered, but not too long after, your phone dings with a text.

The girls went trick or treating early, no connection. Sorry! Try to call you back later. But send pics of the yard whenever! We need to see!

You deflate at the news. You guys had planned this, they knew how excited you were to show the girls the house yourself - or as close as you could get. Stuff happens, and by now you've come to accept that when it comes to kids, plans rarely ever play out the way you'd like. But still.

You sigh as Bucky watches you intently, noticing your shift in mood instantly. You can already see how the rest of the night will go. They'll get back from trick or treating and try to call, but you'll inevitably miss it, and once you do get another moment to call back, the girls will already be asleep. Pics will be it.

And that's...okay. You're disappointed, of course, but really, it's okay. You’re sure had you not talked to Bucky about how you’d been feeling lately, you’d be in tears right about now. But having gotten some of your frustration and anxiety out has helped. Just being around him has helped. You didn’t realize before that you’d been in and out of the house all week with classes and work and now that you think about it, this is the first day you’ve been able to spend actual time with Bucky, too. No wonder you were feeling so isolated.

"Can't talk right now?" Bucky asks as he steps closer to you in the front yard.

"Nope," you pop the 'p'. "Trick or treating early. I'm just gonna send 'em some pictures I guess."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he tries to comfort you, pulling you into his side as you both look on at the Halloween decorations littering the yard. "I know you wanted to share it with them."

"'S'okay," you smile a small smile, leaning into him. "I still had fun doing this with you. Thank you for your assistance," you add, fluttering your gaze up to meet his.

"Anytime. Anything to see that smile,” he adds, leaning in to place a quick kiss on your cheek, sending warmth through you at the affection.

“Guess we should get the candy ready,” you muse.

“And your costume on.”

“I didn’t pick anything,” you frown. “I don’t really feel like dressing up anyway. Besides,” you turn into him, “all the kids, and moms, are coming to see you,” you nudge him with a smirk on your lips.

He shakes his head, trying to fight his blush as he rolls his eyes at you. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

You laugh at the memory of your first week here; everyday was a new woman coming over under the guise of welcoming the new neighbors to the neighborhood. You knew after the second platter of unexpected cookies that word was spreading fast about a certain super soldier taking up residence in their lovely - and expensive - neighborhood; you had sworn to Bucky you didn’t need to move into a place so big, and a part of you was worried you wouldn’t be able to pull your weight financially if you did, but he swore he would prefer it. You didn’t necessarily believe that was his only reason for wanting to spend more on a nicer place, but how could you argue? Especially after he made it clear that he wouldn’t be accepting any money from you for rent. He let you connect your card for the monthly water bill, but that has been it. And you’re absolutely not complaining! But you don’t know you ever imagined this kind of thing would happen.

Until the very day you moved in, you were constantly thinking you were dreaming. But when you noticed the watchful eyes of the neighbors as you brought your boxes in, you realized it couldn’t be.

This was real.

You couldn’t blame their curiosity, but you could blame their forwardness. The way they fawned over Bucky in front of you - all the while ignoring your eye when they’d come over to introduce themselves - was both irksome and, kind of funny.

You only really started to get annoyed when you noticed how uncomfortable it was making Bucky. At the first sign of his discomfort, you found yourself ushering the door shut with a new, outlandish lie every time. But always thanking them for their treats, of course, as you’d close the door.

It’s been almost seven months since you moved in, and the fascination with Bucky has waned slightly, but has yet to fade completely.

“Never,” you laugh. “But it’s not like it’s a bad thing. You, my love," you take his face in your hands, his stubble rough against your palms, "are very, very handsome,” you murmur. “And mysterious, and brooding to the outside eye. It’s hard to ignore you. You're like a magnet of intrigue. It's sexy.”

“Sexy?” He huffs. “I’m not brooding.”

You scoff, “Hah, I wish you could see your face right now,” you say disbelieving; the irony of his words obvious as the furrow of his brows and his frown cause your lips to twitch in a soft smirk.

He fixes his face at your laugh, eyeing you with that ever familiar glimmer of growing want. His hands cover yours as he walks you back, closer to the house.

"So, you think I'm sexy?" he speaks lowly, his grip on you firm as he slides your hands from his face to his chest, down his thick torso as you watch him - your eyes growing heavy as you watch him. It's like you're in a trance.

Your back suddenly hits the front door and you're snapped out of your state, surprised by the contact and even more by the distance you've walked in what felt like a second.

"Yes," you utter after a second, Bucky pressing closer. "I do." Your fingers flex against his abdomen as he leans into you. His nose brushes yours as he teases you with the prospect of his kiss until the door unexpectedly opens behind you; Bucky having turned the knob with his metal hand from around you.

You gasp at the loss of contact with the door, inching back despite yourself - worrying for a split second you were about to find yourself on your ass. But in the same instant, Bucky's hands are around you, keeping you in place.

"I got you," he reassures you; voice deeper now than it was a second ago.

You can only nod as you’re caught once again in his crystal blue gaze.

You really should expect it when he picks you up, but you gasp anyway at his easy display of strength when he takes you off your feet and carries you inside.

“It’s a good thing you don’t have a costume, actually,” he says as he walks past the couch toward the stairs. “No need for you to be dressed.”

You nearly scream as Bucky bounds up the steps, holding you securely with a grin plastered on his face as you cling to him. Not a second later he’s walking you into the bedroom and setting you down carefully to sit on the bed.

“If we’re handing out candy, I’m gonna need to be dressed,” you point out the obvious, trying your best to not look so flustered as he stands in front of you. Tall, strong, and imposing; his eyes darkened as he holds your gaze. You take in a nervous breath as you look up at him and he takes a step closer. You lean back on your arms and wait for his next move.

Bucky slows gets to his knees before you and just as he reaches for your hips to pull you closer to him - there’s a knock on the front door.

He squeezes his eyes shut in his temporary disappointment, grimacing before he shoots up. “I knew that was gonna happen,” he sighs, earning a breathy laugh from you.

“Already got a better turnout than last year,” you offer despite your own momentary disappointment.

He shakes his head with a soft smile as he takes you in. “Nothing could ever beat the turnout last year,” he says thoughtfully, “not by a long shot.”

You smile softly at his meaning as he turns to head back downstairs and get the door.

You hear him open the kitchen cabinet where the candy bars are and then hear his ‘Happy Halloween’ greeting. By the sounds of it, there must be a group or two of trick or treaters already out there.

You ponder your options for a quick second before deciding to go with your gut. You know he won’t mind having to get the door himself tonight for all the trick or treaters - especially if you’re not dressed to do so yourself.

You open the middle drawer of your dresser and spot the red lingerie set instantly. It is your anniversary after all…

You and Bucky agreed to call November 1st your anniversary, just for celebration sake, but you know the truth.

Your thoughts catch up with you as you quickly strip and mindlessly slide on the lacy underwear and bra.

Your anniversary. Duh! You wondered why you hadn’t seen much of Bucky this week! He’s usually so attentive and when he’s not working on his bike or car or catching up on the many items of his list to read/watch/listen to, he’s wrapped up in you. Retiree life has been good to him, and you’ve never had to vie for his attention or affection. This week though, he has clearly been preoccupied. And now you realize why. He’s up to something…

You drag the stockings up your legs and pray they stay up your thick thighs for long enough as you hear the door downstairs shut. You curse under your breath but are quickly saved by another knock at the door before Bucky even heads back up the steps. You forget looking for the straps that connect the faux garter to the underwear and head for the bathroom to make sure you don’t look insane.

You fix your hair a bit, but the worn look suits the occasion and the slightly smudged liner adds to the sex appeal. You adjust the bra strap on your shoulder and a flicker of a smile forms on your lips. You look good. A renewed sense of giddy finds you as you spin to the door and walk back into the room. You listen for Bucky downstairs and are satisfied as you hear the last “thank you!” from the kids at the door.

You walk out into the hall and stop at the top of the staircase. You can see Bucky from where you stand and he’s able to see you from downstairs, too. You put a hand on the banister, posing just a bit as you wait patiently for him to turn around. You watch as he sets the bowl on the entryway table and turns quickly to get back upstairs.

He stops dead in his tracks the second he spots you. His mouth parting as he stares at your chest, slowly letting his eyes rove over your scantily clad curves and down your legs before he looks back up and meets your wanton gaze. The look of faux innocence playing on your face only riling him up more.

It feels like a play of cat and mouse as you stand at the top of the stairs and he stands at the bottom. His gaze heated, eyes hungry.

“You coming back up or should I meet you down there?” you ask demurely.

He’s cut off from answering you with a new knock on the door. He nearly growls and you could laugh at how differently his experience with trick or treaters - or lack there of - was last year.

Bucky turns back to get the door, putting on a smile as he greets the new group of kids and lets them choose what candy bar they’d like. For his part, he really is happy the neighborhood kids aren’t scared of him here! But at the same time, it’s technically his anniversary; and the love of his life is dressed in nothing more than his favorite lingerie, waiting for him so fucking prettily right up those stairs.

He doesn’t think much before making his decision. The last kid makes their choice and the group is on their way as he shuts the door. He heads into the kitchen, feeling you watch him quizzically. He tears a piece of paper off of the notepad on the counter and gets a sharpie from the kitchen drawer.

PLEASE TAKE ONE

He writes it in all caps and heads back to the door.

You lean more onto the banister to see what he’s doing from where you stand. You raise a brow as he moves the entryway table closer to the door before he opens it and sets it outside with the candy bowl sitting on top of it. That’s one way to do it, you think with a smile tugging at your lips.

Bucky slips the piece of paper under the edge of the bowl so it’s visible and then comes right back inside. He’s coming up the stairs within seconds and heading right for you.

You laugh in surprise as Bucky grabs you by the waist, pulling you close to him. His eyes are heavy as his hands squeeze you, wandering your curves. You almost moan when he grabs your ass, pulling you into him fully as you brace against his solid chest.

You’ll never get over how good it feels to be felt by him. His strength evident in his every touch, and yet so soft as he caresses you. His lips ghost your cheek and your ear as he breathes you in and you arch into him, wanting - needing more.

His fingers begin to play with the lace of your bra band, tickling you as he does. “My favorite,” he husks lowly, kissing your neck and sending a shiver through you as you pull at his shirt. “Special occasion?” he asks with a smirk.

Your hands find the waist of his pants, “None that I can think of,” you pretend to ponder.

You moan into him as Bucky suddenly kisses you hard. What you expect to be hot and fervent slows to something deeper and more intimate as you melt into him.

You inevitably have to pull away for air after a bit and murmur against his lips as he holds you, “Oh, right,” you breathe, “we have our anniversary.”

“Thought you wanted to call it tomorrow,” he smiles.

You lick your lip lightly with a shrug, “Couldn’t wait.”

His answer is another searing kiss as he walks you back toward the room. You’re pushed onto the bed and find yourself in the same position you were earlier, leaning back on your hands as you watch Bucky watching you.

He reaches down with one hand and undoes his belt effortlessly, popping his button and sliding down the zipper before he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside, kicking off his boots right after. His pants are next before he closes in on you, crawling on top of you as you lay back on the bed, eyes still locked and dark with your mutual desire.

His hands trail from your hips, up the curve of your waist as he positions himself between your spread thighs.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you as he lets his eyes wander your body once more. He leans down and earns a breathy gasp from you as he starts placing soft kisses down your neck, your chest, over the tops of your breasts before he takes hold of the clasp of the bra sitting on your sternum.

He undoes it easy and pushes the cups to the side, revealing you to him. You sit up a bit to shimmy out of the garment and throw it off the bed. His large hands hold your breasts and he plays with you, squeezing and running his thumbs over your already peaked nipples - earning a pathetic mewl from you at the sensation it send through you. His lips wrap around your tit, tongue swirling around your sensitive nipple as he sucks at you, sending your eyes back and your hands grasping his grown out hair. Your lips parting in a silent gasp.

He licks and sucks at your tit, big hand playing with the other until he switches his attentions. All the while, your moans and tugs at his hair have him growing impossibly harder as his cock strains against his briefs.

He mindlessly grinds his hips against you and you whimper. “Please, Bucky,” you whine, trying to roll your hips against him in turn.

He sucks a little more on your tit before he moves down your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. You’re partly surprised he listened to your ambiguous plea without teasing you just a little longer, but as his fingers pull at the band of your underwear, you realize he’s just as desperate as you.

It has been a long week; the longest you’ve gone without each other in the year you’ve been together.

Bucky pulls away to rid himself of his briefs, his thick cock hard and angry. You can practically feel your mouth salivate as the slickness between your thighs grows. Fuck, he’s perfect.

“Need it, Buck. Need you,” you plead, spreading your thighs even further as he leans back into you.

“I know, sweetheart,” he teases his cock head along your slit, “gonna give it to you, baby. Gonna give you what you need,” he promises.

He lines himself up to your entrance, pushing his tip just inside of you as you moan on a heavy breath.

You hum your pleasure, a delighted smile gracing your lips as he slowly pushes further in; his deep, heady breaths turning you on even more as his hands grip your hips.

“Feel good, doll?” He husks. “You’re squeezin’ me so tight,” he grunts. “Perfect fuckin fit,” he grits through his clenched jaw as he fucks you, his thickness stretching you with every thrust of his cock. Your walls clench his length as you moan - the feeling of being full of him, of his heavy balls slapping against your skin, the way his dirty words always set you off more than you’d ever expect… This is pure fucking heaven. You can’t help yourself. It's not very long before you find yourself already feeling so dangerously close to your undoing.

“Like you were made for me,” he growls, “made to take my fat fuckin cock just. like. this.” He punctuates each of his last few words with a hard thrust, hitting so deep you swear you’re seeing stars. You can do nothing but babble your agreement as your hands wander his body, one wandering back into the dark strands of his hair.

As much as you love holding him, you know how much he likes the feeling of you tugging at his growing strands, too; so you do just that.

His lips brush along your jaw as you tilt your head for him. His stubble tickling you in the best way.

“Never gonna get over how fucking good you feel wrapped around me. How goddamn beautiful you look under me. Fucked out and cock drunk the minute I get my dick inside your tight little pussy. Always so fucking wet for me, desperate for it.”

You swear you’re on the verge of tears as the coil in your tummy tightens more and more with his every word. Your legs are around him as he rolls his hips into you, his cock brushing all the right spots as he finds your lips. You’re moaning into his hot mouth as he kisses you. In sharp contrast to his words, it’s soft and sweet, his nose rubbing against yours as he moves his tongue expertly. His teeth gently nip at your lips as he pulls his face away for a second before pressing his forehead to yours. His hands are tight on your hips as he tries to control himself from getting carried away. A week is just too long and you’re both already reaching closer and closer to your ends.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groans, sounding almost pained as his eyes squeeze shut, his thrusts growing the slightest bit erratic as you feel him tense above you.

“Come inside me,” you beg on a whimper. “Please, please,” you mewl. “Wanna feel you. Need it.”

The growl of curses that leave him as he fucks you deeper have your muscles tensing, your velvety walls clenching down around his length as the hair on his pelvis stimulates your sensitive clit with every roll of his hips. You’re a mess of moans and heady gasps as you cling to him, your body tight in the impossibly building pleasure as your toes curl and that coil finally snaps; white hot heat and sparks of overwhelming pleasure taking over you as you cum.

“Fuck,” Bucky moans, “that’s it, baby. So fuckin’ good. Look at you, so pretty coming for me,” he kisses you sloppily as your skin burns and your pussy flutters.

Your orgasm seems never ending as Bucky works you through it. His hands grasp at you, feeling your softness and bringing him closer to his own orgasm as your walls squeeze his cock while you cum.

His lips press to yours as he swallows your wanton sounds, kissing you hotly before licking into your mouth sensually. He keeps one hand on your hip to hold you where he needs you and brings the other to hold your face. He can’t get enough of your lips, your kiss, your taste. All the while rocking his hips into yours, his cock moving in and out of your slick, tight hole.

The pulsing of your sensitive walls around his length finally have him cumming hard. His seed hot and thick, spurting along your walls as he fills you up. Your name is both a curse and a prayer as it falls from his lips amidst sweet praises and filthy words. You’re panting and smiling through the growing overstimulation as Bucky’s thrusts slow but don’t completely stop just yet. His thumb brushes your cheek as he presses his forehead to yours again, his brilliant blue eyes glued to you before he leans in to brush his lips against yours.

You kiss him back, holding him to you with a hand still in his hair. Your kiss grows deeper as he thrust just once or twice more before stilling; his lips so soft as he slowly pulls away, breathing heavily.

He hisses so quietly you almost don’t hear it while he slides out of you at last, leaving you a dripping mess in his wake.

You stare at him as he looks entranced by the sight of your orgasms smeared all over you. You take a sharp breath as he gingerly brings two fingers to your cunt, slipping inside you easily and fucking what he can of his excess back into you. You expect him to stop but he just doesn’t.

He works his thick digits in and out, his mouth parted open and his eyes set on the way you suck him in so easily. You whine at the building pressure as he finger fucks you, already too close to another orgasm. Your hand is holding his strong arm as your eyes threaten to roll back.

“Bucky,” you whimper, “fuck, I’m gonna come again.”

Your words spur him on as he moves more precisely, hitting exactly where he knows you need him to. With his free hand, he brings his thumb to your clit and rubs in tight circles as your voice peaks and your legs shake. You’re nearly blinded by the orgasm as it hits you and the sound of Bucky cursing makes its way to your ears. You weren’t expecting it but as Bucky shakes his fingers inside you, prolonging your high like it’s the only thing in the world he’s concerned with - your pleasure, you - you realize you’re practically gushing as you squirt all over his fingers. You hear his voice but not his words as Bucky talks you through it.

It’s not the first time you’ve come so hard at his whim, but fuck, you’re exhausted as you slowly come down. You whimpered despite yourself as you open your eyes and Bucky gently slips out of you. He leans over you again as you gaze dizzily at him before he kisses you delicately.

“Did so good, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your skin, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek before he gets up off the bed completely.

You lie there, trying to recoup and catch your breath until he comes back not long after, a pair of his sweats low on his hips and a damp cloth in his hand, a glass of water in the other.

He sets the glass down on the bedside table before tending to you. He wipes gently at the mess between your legs, cleaning you up with the warm cloth before discarding it with the clothes and coming to sit next to where you lay.

“You okay?” He asks, that ever present concern evident in his voice as his hands gently start to wander your soft body.

You smile and nod at him, taking one of his hands in yours. “Better than okay,” you simper. “Was not expecting that,” you add, “but god.” You sit up and cling to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “That’s one way to celebrate a year.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs, turning to stand and pull you off the bed with him, “that wasn’t even the celebration.”

You smile and walk slowly to the closet to grab a night shirt, slipping it on before grabbing a pair of panties from your drawer. “I knew you were planning something,” you eye him playfully, coming up to wrap your arms around him.

He smirks, hugging you back for a second before just deciding to lift you up. “You get so cuddly after sex,” he laughs.

“Me?!” you laugh out, hugging onto him as he walks toward the door of your bedroom, “take a look in the mirror, buddy.”

“Fine,” he agrees, starting down the steps, “you’re right, we both do.”

“That’s just good compatibility,” you muse as he walks you into the den.

“Great compatibility,” he one ups. “It’s almost like,” he pauses a second, setting you down on the oversized sleeper chaise before he leans down to you, “we were made for each other.”

You lean up to meet his lips in a quick, gentle kiss. “Yeah,” you agree softly, a smile beginning to form on your lips. You bite your lip as you watch him go back out toward the front living room. He peeks out the window to make sure no one’s out there before he opens the door.

There's a pause as he takes in the scene outside...or lack thereof. “The candy’s gone!” He yells to you in disbelief.

You can’t help your snicker as he turns to look at you across the way, empty bowl in hand. He waves it, still seeming in shock; like this possibility never crossed his mind.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” you laugh, “but good thing you have like twelve more cases,” you remind him. He licks his lips as he stares at the empty bowl, shaking his head slightly. A second later, you see his brow raise as he starts to straighten up, but you aren't sure what he's reacting to until you hear her voice.

“Trick or treat,” a sultry voice comes from behind Bucky as he still stands at the open door. His eyes widen before he sighs, slowly turning to face the most persistent of his neighborly admirers.

You quirk a brow at her lack of company and strain to hear better.

“Sorry to bother,” she smiles, eyes dragging down Bucky’s solid - still shirtless - chest before she manages to rein herself in and snap her gaze back up to his. “I’m in the middle of mixing up some cookie dough but I ran out of flour. Paul and Michael are busy running their fun house or I’d have them go grab me a bag. Do you think you’d be able to lend me a cup?” You are slightly irked at the change of tone in her last question. She sounds flirty and though Bucky is mostly blocking her from your view, from what you can see, it seems like she’s leaning in closer to him. “We just had a rush of trick or treaters but it’s so quiet around here now. Paul’s so preoccupied with that set up though, I don’t even think he’d notice if I went missing,” she laughs, her toothy grin rubbing you the wrong way as her lashes flutter.

“Uh,” Bucky clears his throat awkwardly, “yeah, we probably have some flour we can spare. Give me a minute.”

“Oh, yo-“ she takes a step forward with her words but is cut off by the closing of the door.

You get up with a tilt of your head and follow Bucky into the kitchen quickly. “Did she just hit on you?” you ask incredulously.

Bucky eyes you as he sets the empty bowl on the counter and walks to the cabinet. “I could see how you could think that,” he avoids a real answer through his embarrassment.

You huff a laugh, walking to the drawer you keep the measuring cups in, grabbing the cup, smirking. “She is somethin’ else.” You sidle up to Bucky as he opens the jar of flour. You lean into him, holding out the cup for him to take, “But, I guess, who can blame her? You know what they say, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

Bucky chuckles with a roll of his eyes as he grabs it from you, scooping up the cup of flour. You’re confused as he tries to hand the cup back to you.

“What?”

“Go give it to her,” he nudges you.

“I’m not wearing pants,” you state the obvious.

“I don’t have a shirt on,” he argues.

“She already saw you,” you nudge him back with a titter.

“Please,” he breathes a light laugh, but you see the seriousness of his request in his eyes. His discomfort is evident, and you don’t know how you didn’t recognize it earlier.

You don’t know everything he went through, but you know enough to know how important Bucky’s privacy is to him - and that includes physically. He is the only one who should be able to decide who sees him, when, and how much of him they see. Of course, no one should be treated like an object, but you get the feeling it can feel a lot worse for Bucky than it can for the typical person.

You take the cup with a soft smile, “Okay, yeah,” you acquiesce. “You should open another box while you’re at it,” you nod toward the cabinet where the boxes of candy bars are before turning around to get the door.

You open it with a smile, trying to hide your bare legs with the door as you hold out the cup of flour. “There you go,” you offer.

“Oh! I didn’t, ha-“ she laughs lightly, “didn’t even realize you were home.” She looks down, moving some hair behind her ears before she reaches for the cup.

You smile brighter as you take a step from behind the door. “Yeah,” you say simply. What the hell does she mean she didn't think you were home?

“Well, thank you,” she smiles tightly, trying to not look at your bare legs. The implication of your and Bucky’s lack of clothing, his messed hair, and your smudged makeup all hanging in the air. “Happy Halloween,” she adds before turning around and heading back down the path.

“Mhm, Happy Halloween,” you return before shutting the door. Unbelievable. But you know you have less than nothing to worry about, so you let it go. Hopefully this interaction will finally be the one to get her off of Bucky's back.

You spin around and find Bucky behind you, eyes having been set on your ass as he holds the newly filled bowl of candy. His eyes shoot up to meet yours as you deprive him of the view. That heated gaze back in his ice blue eyes as he trails up and down your body again.

“See something you like?” You ask teasingly, popping a hip as you cross one leg in front of the other.

“Not something,” he swipes his tongue against his bottom lip unthinking, “everything.”

You go closer to him, a soft, flattered smile in place as you take the bowl of candy from him. “Why don’t you go pick a movie, and I’ll start on dinner in a minute.”

“I already ordered delivery, should be here in about half an hour.”

“Oh?” you raise a brow, reaching back to the door to put out the candy again.

“Mhm,” he hums, his hand in his pocket as he leans, watching you as you close the door shut and turn back to him.

“I thought you said we’d do whatever I wanna do tonight?”

“‘M sorry, doll,” he reaches a hand to you that you take, letting him tug you into him and walk you back into the den. “What do you wanna do?”

You try to bite down your smile as you get to the chaise, Bucky turning to look at you as he waits for your answer. You take the opportunity to slowly push him back, essentially guiding him down as your push had no real physical effect. He watches you with curious, patient eyes as he lets you lead until you bring yourself up to straddle him; his gaze darkening instantly as his hands find your waist, slowly feeling you down, fingers kneading your soft, plushy curves as he wanders down your hips, making his way to grabbing your ass.

You settle a little more comfortably on top of him, your hands on his chest before letting your fingers dance all over his thick torso. You smile, letting yourself answer simply and honestly.

“You.”

—

You’re cuddled up to Bucky as you lay on the chaise, bellies full and feeling satiated and satisfied - in every way. The blanket keeps you warm, but being this close to Bucky keeps you even warmer. You’ve run out of candy, and the porch lights are out as the Halloween classic plays on the screen before you - volume low as you and Bucky talk more than you watch the film.

“It’s kinda crazy when you think about it,” you say. “We’ve been together for essentially the entire time we’ve known each other. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten tired of me yet,” you laugh a little at yourself.

He looks you deep in the eye, a confused half smile on his lips as his brows furrow ever so slightly. “How could I ever get tired of you? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, doll.”

You are taken aback, despite the commonplace of his adamant affection and feelings, at the intense sincerity of his words, the way he’s looking at you. Like he sees you.

Really see you.

Because he does. And somehow, for whatever reason…

“I love you,” he whispers, completing your thought without knowing it as he leans in to kiss you. Your noses brush as he kisses you softly, slow and delicate before it grows just that much deeper. You slow again and with a few lighter kisses, finally part to breathe properly, though you never leave his embrace.

“I’ve had a year with you,” he speaks softly, running his fingers up and down your arm, “and it’s been one of the best years of my life,” he measures his words before finishing his thought as you gaze up at him, “because of you. And I think I’m gonna need a lifetime more,” he decides, “at least.”

You can’t help your smile at his words as you nuzzle into him. “A lifetime, huh? ...I think I could be okay with that,” you say lowly, a teasing tone edging in your words.

You know you’d be okay with that.

Bucky’s heart skips a beat at your agreement and he grows a bit more excited for what he has planned for tomorrow. It all starts with breakfast, and if things go right, it’ll end with one very important question.

“Happy anniversary, Bucky,” you mumble into him as your eyes grow heavy. “I love you. So much. This has been a really perfect night,” you smile softly.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” he kisses your head, holding you closer as you slowly drift off in his loving embrace.

Your gentle breathing calms the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of tomorrow. Any nerves can wait until then.

It’s been a year, and now he can’t wait for the rest of his life.

With you.

—-

a/n that no one asked for: thank you so much for reading! getting ahead of this now - there will not be a part three. this took so long to get through and i just can’t commit to any more sequels of anything. 😭 you are, of course, free to head canon what comes next however you’d like! though if you’re curious, in my mind these two get engaged the next day and idk maybe sometime around Christmas they find out they’re pregnant? but babies or no babies, work works out for reader and everything is good and lovely and they make friends and are able to see family more often and blah blah blah they live happily ever after! lol again, thank you very much for reading!🥰 let me know if you enjoyed it, feel free to share your thoughts. <3

[ravenstargames]

How would each love interest react to walking in on the MC naked or taking a shower?

I wanted to thank you all for your asks, they cheer me up a lot and keep my mind out of things. I want to apologize because surely my latter responses are more poorly written than usual when it comes to my English oopsies, but I hope y'all have fun anyway!

��The LIs reacting to walking in on the MC naked!

✦ Amon: "Need help with that?" *friendly wink wink* (he's just teasing. Unless......)

✦ Raeya: Closes the door immediately, "Oh, sorry. I'm really sorry." She's very apologetic later and never walks up again to the MC unannounced. It turns out to be quite funny.

✦ Gael: Goes pale. Stares. He then realizes he's staring. Hits his head on the doorframe while trying to leave quickly. "My apologies! I didn't mean—ouch!—sorry, I almost knocked that over—Excuse me!"

✦ Envy: "AURHJCH?! CIRCLES, PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!" Slams the door closed, absolutely horrified and blushing terribly. "This idiot, thinking this is their house! YOU COULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING!"

✦ Ara: Starts talking about whatever she wanted with the MC; it takes her a while to realize they're naked and even longer to get the hint that she has invaded their privacy. "Oops! My bad! Yep, leaving!"

✦ Xal:

Says nothing. Leaves. He will never forget, will worry about the MC seeing him as a weirdo and will act very awkwardly later until the MC reassures him it's okay and they know it was an accident.

✦ Father Pride: "Dear circles! I'm very sorry, I didn't know you were indisposed! So unthoughtful of me. It won't happen again, I assure you—ah, yes, I should be leaving...Excuse me."

✦ Lázaro: Says whatever they meant to say to the MC. Leaves. Doesn't think too much about it, really.

✦ Cécile: Looks at the MC from head to toe, emotionless. "We are leaving in five. Don't think I won't drag your naked ass out of here if I come back and you aren't ready."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Touch of Sweetness 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Loki Laufeyson

Sister series to mob!Thor

Summary: you make a new friend, but that’s not all. (short reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“That was awesome. We have so many berries,” you dust the dirt off your capris as you stand. “What are you going to make with yours?” 

Loki squints up at the sky and doesn’t answer. You frown. He’s not paying attention. 

“Brother,” Thor calls him back to earth, “the little one asked a question.” 

“You may keep them all,” he says as he puts his chin down. “I have no need of berries.” 

“But... you helped pick them all. You should get some. Oo, have you ever tried berries and a cream? Or you could make a smoothie--” 

“I said keep them,” he slithers and pushes his jacket back to slide his hands into his pockets. “Are we done then?” 

“You’ve nowhere important to be,” Thor insists. “I would know.” 

You sway awkwardly. You don’t want to be a nuisance. Not like you always are. 

“You know, I had lots of fun. With all of you, but I think I should just go home now,” you suggest. “Thanks for coming.” You smile at Queenie, “it was nice to meet you.” You turn and look at Loki, “and you.” 

He peers down his nose at you as his lips thin. “It wasn’t entirely unpleasant.” 

You look back at the others, “what about the berries?” Queenie asks, “you could come over and show me how to make something.” She pauses and looks at Thor. He grins. 

“Of course she can,” he assures. “You could come now, even.” 

“I appreciate that but I gotta get going.” 

“We will message and arrange the details then,” Thor declares. “Drive safe.” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Queenie murmurs grimly. 

“I can’t wait,” you say. “Thank you for all your help, Loki.” 

His cheek ticks and he pushes his shoulders up, “it was nothing. Only got my suit dirty.” 

You giggle. He’s funny. Well, now he knows not to wear something so nice to a berry farm. 

“Alrighty, I’ll be going then. I wanna get some pictures of the bunnies before I go,” you chime. “Buh bye!” 

You turn and skip off. You’re wired with excitement. It might not have been a shining success but you made one friends at least. Queenie is nice and it seems like she needs a friend too. 

You stop by the bunny stall and snap some photos before you head off. You’ve spent enough money and time there. Besides, you don’t like driving in the dark and it’s a lot later than you thought. 

When you get home, your sister is there with Estelle. You head to kitchen to put your berries in the fridge. As you make space, Jada enters with her minion at her side. 

“Did you have fun playing in the dirt like a child?” She taunts. 

“Sure did,” you say as you slide the basket onto the shelf. 

“Sure looks like you did,” Estelle scoffs. 

You look down at your outfit. You have berry just on one knee and some soil on the other. Oh well, they aren’t your favourite pants. 

“You could’ve come. It was really cool. They had bunnies and a horse cart.” You say. 

“Did he stand you up?” Jada asks, ignoring your suggestion. 

“Stand me up? Who?” 

“Oh, don’t play dumb. Thor. You said that’s what he asked you outside the cafe. So what happened? Did he realise you’re a loser?” 

“I told you, he said he wanted me to meet his girlfriend. She’s nice,” you shrug. 

“Nice? She’s probably too good for you. I mean, she’s dating him.” She snickers. “Do you even know who Thor Odinson is? What he does?” 

“I would know. You gush about him all the time,” you stick your tongue out. 

“That’s not true,” she snaps. 

Estelle laughs, “you kinda of do... along with the rest of them.” 

“He’s a criminal,” Jada says. 

You just stare at her. “So why’d you let me go? I'm your sister?” 

“Oh, don’t do that,” she puffs. “You always are so pathetic. And stupid. You’re an adult, you can take care of yourself.” 

“Come on, Jada, don’t be bitter. You’re the one who’s obsessed with the outfit.” Estelle nudges her. 

“You’re taking her side?” Jada turns on her. 

“No, hell no. But you’re being dramatic. I bet he thought it was funny. She’s so dumb, it’s like having a clown at the party. Something to laugh at,” Estelle jeers. 

“Exactly,” Jada agrees and laugh tritely, “she is a clown.” 

You frown but don’t argue. She’ll just keep calling you names. You wait for her to go before you retreat to your room. The triumph of your day is quickly blotted out by the spiteful chittering you can hear in the front room. 

You wash up and get changed for bed. Maybe Queenie won’t message. Maybe it was all just a game to Thor. After all, what are you compared to him and his pretty, sophisticated girlfriend? And his brother seemed entirely unimpressed by it all. 

You fall asleep in a roil of doubt. You awake, little by little, and linger in bed as you search for the will to get up. You yawn and rub your eyes. You stand up and step into your slippers that look like cows. 

You go out to the kitchen and groggily flip on the electric kettle. As you wait for the water to boil, you go to the fridge and open it mindlessly. It’s more of a habit than an actual mission for anything. You skim the shelves and notice the empty space where your basket of berries should be. 

You let the door shut and look around the kitchen. The basket is empty on the counter. It must have been Jada. It’s like when you got that bottle of Coach perfume with your first pay check and she smash it against the school wall. 

What a waste. 

You hang your head and go back to your room. You’re hurt but not surprised. She’s been doing stuff like this for so long, you’re almost numb to it.  

You close your door slowly as you spot the dark stains across the front of your dresser. You flip the lights on and see the berry-coloured fingerprints all around the drawers. You cross the room and open the top drawer. You check every one and find the same thing in all. You must have slept through it all. 

All your clothes are smeared in berries. They’re starting to stink too. You take out a couple shirts and sigh. You could cry but that would only make Jada laugh louder. 

You shut the drawers and grab your phone from the charger. You go back to the kitchen as you weigh the day laundry to be done. A message pops up as you pour boiling water over a tea bag. You read the screen and swipe up the phone from the counter. 

‘I’ll send a car at noon. Queenie is looking forward to it.’ 

You read a re-read the invitation. It doesn’t leave you any room for rejection. Recalling Jada’s words, you don’t think it is an option. Thor might be nice but he is who he is. You might be just as stupid as they say getting yourself tangled up in all this mess. Yet, your only family are much more sinister than these people your sister claims to be criminals. You’ll take your chances with them. 

[just-a-creep-babe]

What Makes You Tick - Prologue

(Ticci Toby x Reader)

Cheers to the new longer fic series starring Toby! Hope you enjoy this brief little intro to get a taste of what's to come~

Commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

Divider by @plum98

Work.

That’s what Toby’s life revolves around. Day in, day out. He doesn’t have hobbies, doesn’t have friends to hang out with—and he certainly doesn’t have a family to go back home to, either. He has work.

It consumes him.

He’s thankful for it, though. It’s pathetic to say, but at least he has something. At least he’s still good for one thing. At least he’s not completely fucking useless.

So it doesn’t bother him when Slender sends him out on a mission not even a full 24 hours after the last one. It's just another distraction, another way to kill some time and keep his darker thoughts at bay. It's another way to feel useful, to feel needed.

He notices, as he's preparing his things, that his partners in crime aren't the happiest about getting thrown into another job. But then again, when are they ever happy?

Toby sits on the couch in their dingy cabin when he finishes prepping. Hoodie joins him not too long after, leaning against the side of the couch with his arms folded over his chest, and both wait in silence for the following orders.

When Masky has most of his things ready, he stands in front of them and addresses them for a debrief. It's a fairly standard mission, as far as jobs go. Something about someone with the Sickness who's trying to find the cure and needs to be intercepted—same old, same old. There's a strange kind of comfort in the regularity of the work.

Ever since the incident, Toby's life stopped making sense. But at least there's still some semblance of routine within the insanity of it all. At least he could still cling to these fleeting threads of normalcy.

"Toby."

Snap.

Masky snaps his fingers in front of Toby's face.

"You're zoning out. I need you focused."

"I am focused," Toby retorts.

"No, you're not. You're not taking this seriously."

With a roll of his eyes, Toby looks up at the ceiling.

"That's because we've done this exact same job hundreds of-of times by now. I don't need to listen to the same fu-fucking debriefing every s-single time."

Masky pinches the bridge of his nose, furrows his brows, and exhales deeply through his tired frustration.

"It's not the same every time. I'm giving you important information that you need to know and you need to remember. I don't do this shit for fun, Toby; it's not a fucking game."

"I'm not saying it's a fucking game," Toby stands abruptly as a jolt of anger snaps through his body. It takes everything in his power to stop himself from grabbing Masky's collar and shaking him. "I'm saying I'm sick of hearing you spew out the same crap time and time again when you—when you could just s-summarize it or something!"

"I am summarizing it—you fucking dipshit. You'd know that if you fucking listened for once in your life."

Toby's about to lose whatever meager ounce of self-control he has, when Hoodie steps in between them and separates them.

"Alright, that's enough. No injuries before we're on site. I don't wanna have to work more to compensate for dead weight."

"Just—focus, alright?" Masky insists, and all Toby can think about is how satisfying it would be to throw his fist into his dumb fucking face.

"I am focused," the youngest of the three seethes the words out.

"Alright, can you repeat the plan to me, then?"

"We're finding our target, going in, seeing what edge we can find. They have some—some notebook or wh-whatever and Slender wants it back. We kill if we need to."

Masky groans, as if the recap isn't good enough, but Hoodie shakes his head, as if to dissuade his partner from arguing any further.

"It'll do," Hoodie states, "C'mon, it shouldn't be a long one. The sooner we're in, the sooner we're out."

And just like that, the three separate to start loading up the car and heading out.

Masky drives, as usual, and Hoodie takes shotgun, leaving Toby in the back, as usual. He doesn't mind it too much, though; anything is better than sitting next to Masky for an extended amount of time. Plus, not having to worry about the road gives him plenty of time to look out the window and daydream. It's one of the few times he can escape, and his mind won't take him anywhere unpleasant.

Well, most of the time it won't, anyway. Which is about as good as it can get.

They sleep at a hotel after driving non-stop for the rest of the day, and they're on the road for the following two days after that. It's only on the fourth day that they finally crash at a hotel that Masky announces will be their "home, sweet home" until the end of the job.

He recaps the mission, again, but Toby, admittedly, only really pays attention to their target's description. He hears Masky explain that they’ll start working at dusk, but Toby’s already too busy testing out the mattresses and pillows to bother listening.

Thankfully, Masky ignores him instead of bitching at him, and the two other proxies talk about more shit Toby doesn't care about.

At least this won't be a long one, Toby thinks, his eyes already growing heavy as the comfort of the cheap hotel bed encourages him to relax. The last coherent thought he has is the feeling of relief that at least this mission’s bound to be over before he knows it.

And then his thoughts are lost to his dreams.

[theclearblue]

The Razor Blade scene: Character assassination, a joke, or something else?

I've been seeing people discuss two small scenes connected to each other post Fishman Island and in Punk Hazard, the first where the two are bickering and they say this:

And a scene in Punk Hazard where Sanji packed lunches for Luffy, Zoro, Robin, and Usopp and Zoro is making "crunching" noises in the panel, and Oda reveals in an SBS that Sanji did actually put razor blades and poison in Zoro's food:

I have seen claims of character assassination in this scene for Sanji, considering his position on food being something everyone has a right to and his refusal in Whole Cake Island to put poison in the cake they plan to give to Big Mom:

I understand that comparing the two scenes, it does look like Sanji is abandoning his ideals just to get back at Zoro in their fight. But we need to look at both what Oda is saying in the SBS and also Zoro and Sanji's relationship to understand this scene, and why I don't believe this breaks Sanji's character or his ideals.

In the SBS, Oda ends the answer with "The serious nature of their fight is what makes it interesting." Going back one panel and seeing what triggered this fight:

It was Zoro being a lil shit and calling Sanji "Nosebleed-kun." That's to say, this fight is no more serious than their usual bickering, and Oda is making fun of that. Ultimately, this scene and the lunchboxes is a running joke, so that is one thing to keep in mind is that the scene, and Sanji by extension, is not serious about this fight. Of course, jokes are not immune to committing mischaracterization, so we have to look at their relationship too to make sense of it fully.

So why did Sanji actually put poison and razor blades in Zoro's food if he believes that poison shouldn't be used in food? I think at the end of the day, we have to remember that Sanji would never hurt anyone through food, especially the ones he cares about. And he does care about Zoro, it is shown time and time again that they watch out for and care for each other, from Long Ring Long Land, to Thriller Bark and Saoboady, and in Wano. My point is that Sanji knows that Zoro is a freak of nature and wouldn't actually be hurt by the razor blades or the poison, and that he would finish the food.

Zoro actually eats the damn food and literally says nothing about it, Oda didn't even think people would catch this it was such a small detail, but it's one I really like. One because, honestly, it is a funny joke to me, but also it shows a level of trust and understanding of each other? Sanji knows that Zoro is such a brute that he can just fucking. Chomp on metal (which. you know he does on the regular anyways LMAO) and have a little bit of poison go through him and he's literally fine. This is no worse to me than Sanji kicking him. And Zoro just accepting what he's been given, literally no complaints, and he finishes the food and doesn't waste it, because he DOES respect what Sanji does for him and the crew on a daily basis.

Ultimately, the difference in this scene and in Whole Cake Island is that Sanji KNOWS that he isn't actually gonna hurt Zoro by pulling this on him, hes looking to call Zoro on his taunt and be an annoying brat back to him. Bege is seriously asking him to kill Big Mom through the food that he makes, something that's on a completely different level then him pulling a prank on Zoro. The razor blade joke no different in this scene as well in Wano:

I don't think this is out of character for Sanji, it is their usual pettiness on full display, but also serves as a nice small detail into how they understand and trust each other.

[chaoticrockmusic]

A Taste of Spice

Synopsis; While cooking jambalaya together, Remy and you share playful banter, a little dancing, and a growing connection simmering as warmly as the dish on the stove. With every shared glance and teasing touch, the flirtation turns into something deeper, until one kiss finally seals the promise of what could be.

Warnings; None, enjoy kits! ♡♡♡

Requested by @hulkingharbor

The scent of spices fills the kitchen as Remy guides you through the ingredients for jambalaya, his Cajun accent thicker than usual, adding to the warmth in the room. He's leaning close, too, his arm brushing yours as he reaches for the chopped bell peppers, a lazy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You keep stirrin’ it like that, chérie, we’re gonna end up with mush,” he teases, eyes gleaming with playful mischief.

Rolling your eyes, you hand him the spoon. “All right, show me, Mr. Expert.”

He takes it, giving the pot a confident stir, his hands moving with an ease you can’t help but admire. “See? It’s all about finesse,” he says, glancing at you. “But I guess that just comes natural to some of us.”

You laugh, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Finesse, huh? Next time, I’ll let you chop the onions with that ‘finesse’ you’re so proud of.”

He chuckles, eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. “Now, now, don’t get jealous, chère. Tell you what—if you chop the next round, I’ll let you have the first taste.”

“Deal,” you say, sliding him a sly smile as you reach for the knife. As you start chopping, you can feel his gaze lingering, warm and appreciative.

When the jambalaya is finally simmering, he takes a spoonful and offers it to you, his gaze softening as he waits for your reaction. You take a taste, savoring the rich, spicy flavor.

“It’s perfect,” you say, smiling. “Must be that ‘finesse’ of yours.”

He raises a brow, pleased. “Or maybe it’s just the company.”

Remy grins, his gaze holding yours for a beat longer than usual. Then he sets the spoon down, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, studying you with an intensity that makes your heart skip.

“Y’know,” he says, his voice low, “this ain’t half as fun when I cook alone.”

You glance up, feeling your cheeks warm. “Is that right? I didn’t know cooking could be so… entertaining.”

He laughs, the sound soft and smooth. “Depends on the company, chérie.” His hand reaches out, a little smudge of flour on his finger, and before you realize it, he dabs it gently on the tip of your nose, his grin widening as he watches your reaction.

“Remy!” You laugh, reaching for a dish towel to swipe at him, but he sidesteps with a fluid ease, his laugh deep and genuine.

“Don’t worry,” he says, still chuckling, “I’ll make it up to you. How ’bout a dance while we wait?” He extends his hand, his fingers warm and inviting, his eyes glinting with that playful, dare-you look.

You hesitate, glancing at the stove where the jambalaya simmers, but something in his gaze is too hard to resist. So, you take his hand, and he pulls you close, his other hand settling comfortably on your waist.

With a practiced grace, Remy leads you in a slow sway across the kitchen, his hand never leaving yours, his eyes locked on yours like you’re the only person in the room. For once, there’s no playful teasing, just a quiet sincerity that catches you off guard.

“You’ve got a good rhythm, chère,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Feels like I could dance with you all night.”

Your breath catches, and before you can think twice, you lean in, your lips brushing his cheek, then lingering at the corner of his mouth. Remy’s breath hitches, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on your waist, his gaze falling to your lips.

For a moment, the kitchen fades away, and it’s just the two of you, close, warm, and wrapped in the quiet promise of something more.

“Hope you like spicy,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rumble against your skin.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you whisper back, smiling as he finally closes the distance, his kiss as warm and full of sweetness as the jambalaya simmering on the stove.

(I fuckin love Remy)

[froggybogwitch]

Well then. Buckle up, folks, I went down a design rabbit hole. Somewhat inspired by the eternal question of "How do illyrian's wear shirts?" Which, honestly, has a much easier answer that what I came up with. Like a couple extra buttons would have done the trick, but where's the fun in that? I decided to add some flair on it, and by that, i mean a good chunk of a cultural fashion system. Everybody say thank you to Cassian for modelling.

So, starting off with the base layers and underwear, we've got a loincloth and a contraption that I've been calling the under harness, which was my answer to their funky double shoulders. Most other things I could think of ran into the problem that wind is a little thieving bastard and bc of the shape of their wings, form fitting garments like flying leathers can't easily pass under them, so they needed additional attachment points, hence the harness. Basically every single upper body garment I've created connects to this harness, keeping everything completely secure during flight. The only other thing to really note here are the two piercings around the wing's main knuckle. This shouldn't actually impede flying, according to the damage that real bats can fly with. These are both achor points for light weight armor, and also decoration. In the next image, we got the basic fabric base layer. Not much to say about the pants, they're pants. The shirt is more interesting. So it comes in two pieces, the front and back are entirely seperate pieces of fabric, both suspended from the under harness. The edges of the front piece are stiffened with steel boning or hardened leather, to help the garment keep it's form fitted shape. The back piece is a long strip of red fabric which I imagined to hold some sort of meaning as a highly stylized "bloodline." They could have been highly embroided with sigils, or family trees or something. Cassian's is blank for obvious reasons.

Next up, flying leathers and armor. I don't honestly have much to say about these, they're pretty well described in the books and the only thing i had to add was the armor around the knuckle claw. It seems crazy to me that these people wouldn't have figured out how to use their wings as deadly weapons so, a bit of hardened leather, some metal spikes if ur feeing extra spicy, and there, two extra striking weapons.

And now my favorite part, warmer clothes. I think this is where we'd really get to see illyrian fibercraft shine. Ombre dying, tassles, lace netting, embroidery, all of that. This is where they get to peacock about and be all bright and colourful. The cloak is made up of five long sections of fabric, two fall down the chest, two behind the shoulders but in front of the wings, and on wide one down the back. It can be worn loose or with the front most pieces of fabring tied underneath the wings for extra security during flight.

The mantle is the last bit I've developped, and it's just as decorated and fancy as the cloak, and sometimes even more so. It's a short cloak like garment that's worn over the shoulder and has open sleeves for both arms and wings. It's often fur linned and could be quilted for exra warmth. It could be worn with or without a cloak but usually they're worn together.

anyway, I have so many thoughts about the illyrian culture, bc what Sarah gave us ... doesn't really make much sense, and also makes me feel extremely icky. I'd much rather close my eyes and imagine a world where they aren't treated as a one dimentional culture that has done nothing but make it's members lives miserable.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hello hello ^^ with playful land now out on en i was wondering if theres any elements of it that you enjoyed :D ive seen the translations on youtube before its release on en and have also read the reviews and criticisms of others as well as on your page and was wondering if there was anything that you likes about it

[Referencing this post!]

Sure thing ^^ There’s actually a lot I like about Playful Land, (which is also why I was sad that it wasn’t as good as I wanted it to be):

The atmosphere! I don’t like amusement parks irl (I’m kind of like that grumpy big sister that will go with you as a chaperone but wouldn’t want to eat anything or get on any rides or attractions), but they’re such interesting settings! Everything all colorful and sparkly, people laughing and chattering, the games and rides… So fun. I think the atmosphere is excellent even when it swaps over to the serious section—suddenly, the park becomes desolate and creepy as you dodge into the shadows, away from harsh light and the puppets on the hunt for you. It’s something straight out of a horror movie and I love those vibes.

Fellow and Gidel! Big fan of their designs and dynamic with each other and the cast. Fellow’s so effortlessly charming to me, whether he’s being an obvious smiling con artist, pulling that over-the-top evil smirk, or being a protective older brother/guardian figure to Gidel. He’s just a touch too… pathetic to make it to the top of my character tier list. But still!! He has a super handsome face and a cute smile. And Gidel isn’t all too bright but is earnest and supportive of Fellow in return.

The music!! It's so upbeat. I can't exactly hum along to it since I can't always follow the tune, but just hearing the beginning notes or the opening whistles make me feel really happy.

SFIPYBBIPFY0epb UNIRONICALLY THAT J WORD WAS ONE OF THE FIRST PEOPLE TO BE PUPPET'D. Honestly, he had it coming 🤡 Some of the other ways the guys got captured were hilarious too... Like L*ona sitting down in a place he shouldn't and Fellow literally rushing at the SSR trio to tear up their tickets.

The stakes! I enjoyed how morbid things got. What can I say??? I love it when the stakes are high. We usually don't get that in Twst event stories, so I appreciate the change of pace and forcing our blorbos to fight for their lives :))

KALIMMMMMMM 😭 I think his best traits really shone in this event!! I love how he's the only one to give Fellow a chance to speak his mind and how he continues to believe in Fellow's goodness. Some might call that naive (and yeah, it definitely is), even when his peers and especially Ace and Ortho tell him he's INSANE for thinking this way. It also shows us that Kalim is willing to listen and empathize even with people who have his worst interests in mind.

The cages--

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

hi i cant reblog this post but the results are bothering me so im gonna go through everybody listed here one by one in order of who's leading in this poll:

CALICO JACK: the entire reason im making this post and the entire reason i even thought abt this poll longer than 2 seconds is bc i immediately wrote him off for several reasons and then saw that he was WINNING and i need to set the record straight. first of all, calico jack does not have cybertruck money. those things are going for like $100k right now, cj has $30 in his savings and he does not have the credit score necessary to get himself a goddamned cybertruck. second of all the car calico jack owns is like a ford something or other and it's one million years old and does not pass inspection but it DOES have a pair of truck nuts dangling off the back. you know that video with the red truck speeding through an open field with cinder blocks on it?? that’s jack’s truck

A BADMINTON: i could see it, and i know this is insane bc OP said they're interchangeable and the ARE but i could see it with nigel specifically. my first thought was that ppl who own cybertrucks aren't usually RICH rich like that, but also there's a certain type of arrogant morons who like to showboat their wealth but also are dumb and have bad taste and i think nigel is that type of guy. im thinking abt him going out of his way to hang out with stede just to bully him and make fun of his ship and i think nigel would think owning a cybertruck is some sort of flex. chauncey is less interested in tormenting stede for the hell of it and more into just straight-up trying to kill stede by any means necessary and something abt the single-minded goal of it makes me think chauncey's a bit more pragmatic and less into the showboating compared to his brother (yeah there are like Reasons why nigel might seem a bit more lighthearted than chauncey, only one of them is trying to avenge his brother when we meet him, but also who cares it's the fucking badmintons lol). the car(s) chauncey owns isn't flashy but it is pricey.

PRINCE RICKY: this man is like distant british royalty, i dont think he even learned how to drive until he decided he wanted to follow stede's path and run away to become a modern au equivalent of a pirate. after learning to drive with a private tutor he went out and bought a used audi that was one year old and had less than 5k miles on it and that was him "roughing it"

IZZY: so i voted for him bc i think the aesthetics PERFECTLY fit him but after thinking abt it i would probably change my vote to a badminton. izzy sees cars as a necessary tool to take him where he needs to go and his only requirement is that the color of his car is black. he only buys a new car when the one he has is so old that it's worth more to fix than to replace, and so the only situation where izzy would buy a cybertruck is if he happened to be due for a new car at the same time that the cybertruck was coming out. i think in that scenario the aesthetic kinship he would feel for the truck would be enough to make him buy one even though it's more than he usually spends on cars and it's not his usual sedan. and then he would get in the car and drive it two miles and the software would fail and the car would completely die

STEDE: would not buy a cybertruck simply bc they are ugly. he has better taste than that

ED: same as above but also he's way too smart for that. come on.

FRENCHIE: guys, frenchie's the one RUNNING the scams, not falling for them

SPANISH JACKIE: why is she even on this list. of all the polls to include jackie on, why is this the one. no she doesn't own a fucking cybertruck, come on

[diangelodork]

thing came up in my mind so i have to write it:

charles snapped back to reality when he saw crystal’s manicured fingers waving in front of his face. “charles? what are you…” she began, turning around to follow his line of sight which extended just past her ear.

“ah,” she said, quirking an eyebrow when her eyes fell on edwin, nose deep in notes for the case he was working on, his eyes flitting back and forth on the parchment in front of him with fervor as thin, wire-rimmed glasses sat atop his nose.

“hm,” charles mumbled noncommittally, now leaning on his palm while he stared intently at the fluidity of the fingers that traced the lettering on the page.

“alright, spit it out,” crystal said, an amused roll of her eyes following the words.

“it’s just- it’s so fun to watch him when he gets like this. all caught up in his work. he’s so smart and good at everything. so… mm.”

“charles?”

“hm?” he asked, still not tearing his eyes away.

“have you ever heard of a competency kink?” she asked, trying to suppress a laugh.

“wh- a kink??? why are we talking about that???” he asked frantically, his eyes finally ripped away from the other man as a vibrant flush colored his cheeks, but his temporary lapse in attention didn’t last long as he caught edwin rolling his sleeves up and brushing his hair out of his eyes through his peripheral vision. charles’ own eyes fluttered as he muttered under his breath. “christ.”

crystal snapped in front of his face.

“pay attention, charles. a competency kink. it’s when you’re really attracted to when someone’s good at something.”

“yeah, sounds interesting,” he muttered, moving around her hand to keep his eyes fixed to where the end of edwin’s ballpoint pen was pinned between his teeth as he analyzed something on the page. charles made a weak noise when he saw it, his hand coming up to gently brush his bottom lip like he was imagining that it took the pen’s place in between those sharp teeth.

“charles, for fuck’s sake, i think you have one,” she says, the laugh finally erupting at the absurdity of his steely focus.

“what? no. isn’t that like… normal? it’s nice when someone’s good at something,” charles defended, a bit flushed.

“yeah, well, no one looks at someone like that unless they want to bone them while they talk about like- quantum physics or like literature or some shit,” she said plainly, the amused grin still prevalent.

charles made a noise like he had just been punched in the chest at the idea.

“and now you’re thinking about it, aren’t you? god dude, just- go get your man. we’re never gonna finish this conversation until you can say what you need to,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“he’s not my-“ charles tried weakly.

“don’t care, go,” she said, pushing him forward.

he paused briefly, breathing in shakily before returning to his usual bravado seamlessly. “EDWIN!! what are you working on mate?” he called, grinning as he walked around the desk to look over his shoulder and discretely took his bottom lip into his mouth.

“i’m rather stuck on this piece of evidence, you see…” edwin delved into his explanation, charles’s pupils dilating with every word as his chest heaved.

“god, i’m so good at this. also, ew. i should leave.”

[sh4wty18]

based off the “driving with chris sturniolo” video Larray did with chris expect he talks about reader in a part of it; reader is dating chris and Larray does “driving with y/n” and they talk about stuff and Chris’s and hers relationship (shes also a YouTuber and lives with chris, Nick, and Matt). And then in the comments everyone is freaking out about how they both talked about each other.

in the car.

pairing: chris sturniolo x reader.

summary: same as request.

cw: fluff, nothing else.

word count: 985, not edited.

“So when did you and Y/n get together, huh?” Larray asks slyly, a smirk creeping its way onto his face.

Chris blushes and chews on his bottom lip, “Fuck you, dude,” he giggles, swatting playfully at Larray’s arm.

Larray laughs as he flicks on the turn signal, “Tell the camera, Chris. All the girls wanna know.”

“Well…” Chris starts with a giggle. “Um, we sorta just ran into each other one day a few years ago–she’s obviously a youtuber too. And so we started talking… and became friends, she moved in, and eventually, I guess it just turned into something more? I don’t know. I really like her.”

“Yeah you guys are too cute,” Larray says. “Do you guys like being PDA or no? I think everyone’s seen that video of you two making out at Tara’s party…” he says in a sing-songy voice, grinning again.

Chris covers his face with his hands, “Fuck, I know,” he groans. “That was a wild night, for sure. But um, no, usually we’re pretty private. I love being near her, you know? Like we don’t have to be doing anything to have fun, we can literally just sit on the couch on our phones and it’s enough.”

Larray’s eyebrows furrow and he forces a fake gag noise, “Ewwww, happy straight couple!”

Chris laughs, before Larray is already off to the next topic of conversation.

—

“Alright, so today I’m driving with…” Larray points at you with both hands, awaiting your introduction.

“Y/n!” you say gleefully, waving to the camera with both hands.

“So last week, I drove around with someone who I think means a lot to you. Do you know who that was?” Larray asks with a smile.

“I do!” you respond, “I watched the video as soon as I saw it, Larray. You know I’m your biggest fan.”

“Of course, of course,” Larray says with a hint of playful sarcasm. “So yes, I was with Christopher. And I asked him a few questions about your guys’ relationship.”

You giggle, “I saw, it was so cute.”

“So I figured, it’s only fair if I ask you the same.”

“Sounds fair enough,” you nod.

“So how is it living with the triplets?” Larray asks as he turns onto a busy street lined with shops.

“Hmm,” you think of how to answer his question. “They’re gonna clock me for hesitating,” you laugh. “Um, it’s really great. I’ve been friends with them all for years, so like, it wasn’t hard to live with them. It really makes paying rent a lot easier. It got a little awkward when Chris and I first started hooking up because Matt and Nick could definitely tell and didn’t wanna make it weird.”

“Hooking up?! Wait so you two started off as friends with benefits? In your own house is crazy,” Larray laughs, but the shock is written all over his face. No one would expect you or Chris to be the hookup type.

“Well, it was more like… we both knew there were feelings there, right? Like we knew we wanted to be a couple, but I think we were worried, you know, about living together and with his brothers. We didn’t want to ruin the friendship we had. But eventually we got tired of pretending there was nothing there. So kind of, in a way, we started as friends with benefits. But that only lasted like a week before we made things official. Just ‘cause one day, Matt and Nick sat us down and were like ‘you guys know it’s okay if you want to be together, right? we both know you guys like each other, it’s obvious.’ And so, after that we made things official.” You nod, remembering the conversation with your three best friends so clearly.

“Wow, that’s the first I’ve heard of this,” Larray says in even more shock.

“Well, we are pretty private. But anything for you, Larray.” You stare directly into the camera for a moment, “Sorry baby, I know you’re gonna watch this and be embarrassed.”

“Not the pet name,” Larray rolls his eyes jokingly. “Okay, so how is the relationship going? Do you feel like you can balance your romantic relationship with your friendship?”

“Yeah, definitely. He’s been my best friend for longer than we’ve been dating, so in a way, he’ll always be my best friend. It’s just now there’s more to it. I like it better this way, though. I liked him for so long before we got together, it was so embarrassing.”

“Oh, well Christopher was down horrifically for you too, by the way.”

You giggle, “I know he was. He made that very clear when we had the conversation.”

“What’s your favorite thing about him?” Larray asks.

“His kindness. He’s genuinely the sweetest person I’ve ever met. He never judges. He’s caring. He’ll drop everything to be there for his loved ones. He’s the most loving brother and friend anyone could ever ask for, and he’s the most considerate boyfriend I’ve ever had. I just love him so much, I love everything about him. It’s hard to choose just one thing. He’s perfect to me,” you smile, and a slight pink hue covers your face.

Larray moves on to another topic after that, and leaves you thinking about how much you love your boyfriend as he does. Later, when the video is posted, all of the comments are freaking out about how cute you two are.

user1: OMG THEY BOTH TALKED ABOUT EACH OTHER😭😭

user2: they’re actually my fav couple of all time

user3: the way they talk about each other is so genuine and sweet. it’s so hard to come by a love like theirs these days :)

user4: i love them (even tho ill always be a little jealous of y/n lol)

user5: BRO WHEN IS IT MY TURN TO HAVE A RELATIONSHIP LIKE CHRIS AND Y/N😔

hope you enjoyed <3

dividers from @plutism

pics from pinterest

[beef-brisket]

Adam didn't know why Charlie wanted her dad to help him. They've never been the closest of friends.

But Adam won't question it. The man did heal him, so he'll give him a few days of 'nice Adam' before slipping g back into his pleasant self.

He did feel a lot better after taking his anger out on some sinners- especially those who dared to laugh at him. But their punishment wasn't over. He'd chained a few in the basement of his radio tower. He'll have fun with them later.

Lucifer was a tad uncomfortable. Why was Adam in such a good mood? He didn't like it. A happy Adam usually spelled trouble. If not for the hotel, then for Lucifer.

After an hour, Adam has gotten the meats and sides done, and Lucifer finished cutting and washing vegetables ages ago. He's just been sitting at the table, watching Adam. To make sure he doesn't put anything poisonous into the food. No other reason. Definitely not his ass-.

Adam: annd- done!

Lucifer blushed as Adam bent over to put the meat in the oven. He managed to fix himself before Adam turned and out the sides in the fridge.

Finally, they were done-

Adam: Just need to make dessert.

Fuck.

Lucifer: Uh- need a hand?

Adam stared at Lucifer for a moment. He was really thinking.

Adam: ...yes, actually. Do you mind cutting the passion fruit and blueberries?

Lucifer: Sure.

Adam grabbed everything Lucifer would need and placed it in front of him.

Lucifer: So, what are we making?

Adam: Blueberry pie and a passion fruit cheese cake.

Lucifer: Blueberry pie, huh?

Adma: Yes. It's a favorite of Angel Dust and Lute. I'd like to make something that everyone likes.

Lucifer: ...no, I mean "blueberry pie" huh?

Adam stares at Lucifer: You're being weird again. Why are you saying blueberry like that?

Lucifer: ...Willy Wonka?

Adam stated before laughing: Who is that!? What a stupid name!

Lucifer: You've never heard of Willy Wonka?!

Adam: No! I would remember that damn name if I did! What about it?

Lucifer: He runs a chocolate factory! And uh... blueberry pie gum is one of his creations.

Adam: Hm. Sounds... odd. How can you put a pie into a gum?

Lucifer: Couldn't tell you.

Adam: Well, I assure you, my pie will taste better than his.

Lucifer: Oh, I'm sure~.

Adam gives him a weird look. Why is it always the little ones that are weird as fuck? And why is it always Adam that seems to be stuck with them?

The sooner he gets these desserts done and in the fridge, the sooner Lucifer can leave. Maybe Adam could get some peace and quiet.

Lucifer: Passion fruit is so hard to cut- can you do it?

Adam's eye twitched.

Lowkey want an au where Adam has Alastors' powers.

The tentacles

The eyes

The changing size

The shadows

The sass

The deal making

Him owning Husk and Nifty

The musical numbers

The radio control

The tentacles- have I mentioned that before?

The rivalry with Lucifer

Maybe he replaces Alastor entirely. No Alastor. Only Adam. It's always been Adam.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

Only Adam lol This is good! His Husk and Nifty could be Lute and Peter.

He doesn't have to smile all the time does he?

Yessss, and he plays rock instead of jazz lol And yes of course there is a rivalry lol

[moonspirit]

I love aruani sm but lately I feel like it’s getting less fun bc of all the hate they get… usually it doesn’t get to me but it has lately and idk… I still love my blondes but it’s so hard to hehe without having someone come in and talk about how their ship is better etc whatever.. idk if you ever feel like that /:

Hello anon!

I can understand where you're coming from. I've been in this fandom since 2013, and believe me, I've seen a ton of hate xD Where there are fans there are also antis, this is mostly an unavoidable phenomenon and the best we can do is accept it.

But anon, they key is to not give antis any leeway to come and camp out in your space. If you have something you love, be it a ship, a fandom, a hobby or anything, it's yours to love and enjoy. You don't have to let the antis come in and talk shit about it. You see them from the window, they're outside, but don't open the door.

Instead, invite in the people who feel the same way as you.

Tumblr is the only place I'm on, for fandom and community and pretty much everything else, but believe me, I see so many rancid posts here that I actually go: "what the actual fuck". Some of these posts spill into the 'Aruani' tag for no reason at all other than to incite a ship-war. It's really unnecessary and also annoying, but unfortunately some people feed off the drama.

Obviously, I can't block the tag, but if it's really getting to me, I block the user.

Done. I refresh my dash, see the Aruani community posting memes and art and headcanons and mini-fics and everything is still wonderful and fun and good.

These are the people in my house, the antis stay outside.

[historical-fashion-polls]

Hi! I loved the halloween event so much thank you for making it! is there a possibility that we are going to have an event for the december holidays too?

hello dear anon! 💕

I'm so happy to hear that you enjoyed the halloween tournament so much! 🥰🥰

and I'm glad to hear that there's so much interest in me potentially doing another one! ☺️💕 I have additional answers here, here, and here on this topic, but the most immediate answer is that unfortunately it's just not going to be possible for me to do one this year 😔😔 however, given the interest I've seen, I can definitely start thinking about something for next year! ☺️☺️ (I'll also make a little interest poll hopefully within the next week to gauge general enthusiasm 💕💕)

in terms of timing for a potential winter tournament, I was thinking I might aim for mid-january through some time in february? (again, this probably would not be until next next year, jan-feb 2026) I have a few reasons for this:

as I mention in that last ask I've linked, I would do something more "seasonal" that's not directly linked to any holiday, so it would still be seasonably appropriate in jan-feb (for the northern hemisphere at least)

december tends to be a really busy month for me, as the whole first half is usually taken up by writing, presenting, and submitting course papers

and then my birthday is at the end of december! as much fun as running the tournament was, it was also a lot of work, which I would prefer not to worry about on my birthday, if that's okay!

but then there's another birthday on january 18th – the blog's first birthday! 🥳🥳 I could absolutely see that being the start date for a winter tournament, but I just don't see myself having the time to get something together by this jan 18th, which is why we could potentially aim for next year?

I thought I'd put this all out here to get y'all's tentative thoughts on this! let me know what you're thinking if this is something you have thoughts about! ☺️💕

so sorry to turn this very sweet ask into such a long post! ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 but thank you such much for this lovely message, and I hope all my reasoning makes sense! ☺️☺️ if you have further thoughts, please feel free to send in another ask! ☺️💕

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Blurb

(On popular demand, pls see a Jobe-Ananya blurb from the next chapter)

.............................................................................

Both Ananya and Jobe helped set the dining table as Jude went to fetch the wine. Neither had much faith in Jude’s abilities to manage single-handedly. 

‘Sorry you had to wait. I know you guys have your dinner early. You should have started, really.’

It was something she was still getting used to with Jude. He preferred to have dinner done by 8 usually, a healthy habit for athletes.

‘No it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.’

‘Thanks. How was the amusement park yesterday?’

The brothers had visited a famous Disney park in Madrid, which had caused quite a stir, and the authorities nearly had to shut the place down.

Jobe chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

‘Started out fun, but then got a bit mad. Like I knew Jude was popular here but man, this much?’

‘And this soon.’

‘Yeah, exactly. They had to call bouncers to escort us. Bit nuts, that.’

‘I’d say get used to it. Fans have really taken to him. Never seen so much love for any player here in 5-6 months, not since Ronaldo of course. We are a tough fanbase but he has truly won us over at rocket speed.’

‘Oh, you’re a Madrid fan?’

Jude chose that moment to emerge with her favourite bottle of wine, and answered for her.

‘Lifelong. Diehard. Like us for Birmingham.’

‘Really? That’s interesting.’

Ananya wondered what would be running through Jobe’s mind with this piece of information. Would he take her for a fan stalker? She couldn’t blame him for that line of thought - it would be a fair question to ask. Something that Jude had never bothered to ask.

But no question came, and she didn’t want to venture a clarification on her own.

Instead, a different question came.

‘So, when he fucks up on the pitch, do you give him stick as a fan or his girlfriend?’

‘I don’t fuck up.’

Both Jobe and Ananya ignored that, not even bothering to look at him.

‘Who says I give him stick?’

‘He says.’

As if the words weren’t enough, Jobe also pointed his fork at Jude.

Ananya turned sharply towards her boyfriend, cocking her head to the side.

‘Honesty. That’s what I meant.’

‘Did not.’

Jobe murmured while mock-coughing, bursting into a giggle and Ananya eventually joined him, chucking at Jude’s misery.

It broke the ice between the two, but the cost was Jude’s annoyance. After a few moments, Ananya reached out to gently stroke his upper arm.

‘It’s fine. I do actually give him a hard time when he isn’t himself on the pitch.’

‘Good on you.’

................................................................

you asked - so here's another blurb for Ch 14.

Writing Jobe & Ananya is very interesting - both are complex and a bit unlike Jude. Hoping to finish tmrw / day after, pls bear with me :)