#and they all sit down and have a little chat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

salemlunaa · 3 days ago

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🎀 NEW IDEA: ASK CHAT GPT 🎀

ꨄ Use AI to your advantage when it comes to manifesting and shifting…

Although AI can get a little weird and scary sometimes, it’s actually such a great way to get information, motivation and inspiration all in one

Instead of hounding bloggers for the same thing all the time. Go to Chat GPT.

Now, how about i give you a few examples, let’s imagine someone called maya 𖨆

maya is having trouble because she feels like when she tries to induce the void, she always falls asleep and that’s taken away so many years from her dream life

she asks Chat GPT: “I keep falling asleep every time I try to induce the void, I feel so frustrated all the time and I need some help”

Chat GPT answers: “Hi Maya, falling asleep during void practice is common, so don’t be too hard on yourself. One way to combat this is by practicing at a time when you feel awake and alert, like in the morning or after a light exercise session. Another tip is to sit up in a comfortable position rather than lying down, as it can help you stay focused and avoid dozing off. Keep practicing with patience—it’s all part of the process!”

now let’s imagine joey 𖨆

joey is feeling frustrated because he feels like he hasn’t progressed, he’s been in the community for 2+ years and really wants his dream life

he asks: “I’m feeling so frustrated and upset, like I want to give up, I’ve been trying to induce the void and get my dream life for over 2 years, I need motivation”

Chat GPT responds; “Hi Joey, I know it’s tough, but remember that persistence is key—sometimes the journey teaches you just as much as the destination. Instead of focusing on the time passed, celebrate the fact that you’re still trying, which shows incredible resilience. Take a short break if you need to, and reconnect with why you started. Visualize your dream life vividly, and remind yourself it’s worth the effort. Progress might be closer than you think!”

now chloe 𖨆 is feeling really powerless lately, circumstances hit her hard on some days and she feels stuck, she wants to be reminded how the void is so possible and so easy and she’s so capable of it all

she asks: “Can you remind me how powerful I am? Some days circumstances hit so hard and it gets thought!! Can you explain manifesting from a logical point of view to remind me how easy it all is?”

Chat GPT responds: “Hi Chloe, let me remind you of this simple truth: you are the creator of your reality, the God of your world. From a logical point of view, everything you experience stems from your thoughts, beliefs, and focus. Circumstances are just reflections—they only hold power because you give it to them. Shift your focus, and the reflection changes effortlessly. When you truly accept that you’re the one in control, nothing can stand in your way. You’ve always had the power!”

Now you can see how well it works!! You can even use them to give you affirmations, help you with vaunts. You can be as specific as you want, trauma dump as much as you want and say whatever you want without crossing boundaries or being judged. You can use Chat GPT to script, i’ve used it so many times and it has given me so many ideas. And your script will still feel like your own, just see it as your collaborating with Chat GPT and that it you helps put your thoughts into words.

You can even use it when you’re having one of those days and just need to be reminded of the fact that you’re in charge. You can even use it for some tough love or to comfort you as you vent.

Like guys you can do so many things with this, I love Chat GPT so much we’re locked in like this:

LMFAOOO IM JOKING (or am i? 😏)

But in all seriousness, some of you need this. Flooding bloggers asks and dms with questions that they have repeated the answers to multiple times, asking things you damn well know the answer to or just asking for motivation repeatedly can take away from people who actually have a good question to ask and actually need help. Like fogging up a blogger’s inbox repeatedly venting about the 3d, or asking “hOw Do I gEt iNtO tHe VoId?” knowing damn well you know the answer to that, will prevent a blogger from noticing someone who actually has a good question that many people might also have and would actually spark an interesting discussion.

So just ask Chat GPT, it’s okay to have doubts creep in from time to time, it’s okay to need a reminder of basic things, it’s okay to forget how powerful you are sometimes, but you can literally ask Chat GPT to help you with that and it will. Instead of waiting around for bloggers to answer your dm or ask just to say the same thing, you can get actual help, and get it when you want it and how you want it.

Why don’t you ask “explain the law of assumption to me like i’m 5”

“explain the void state to me from a scientific view to help me believe”

“give me some dream body affirmations”

“i’ve been so demotivated, remind me who tf i am again”

“I’m going to come from a filthy rich family when I permashift, can you give me some £10Million+ per year jobs that my desired parents can do”

“I feel so lazy today, bully me into inducing the pure consciousness instead of procrastinating”

you don’t need to harass bloggers for these things when you can have immediate access to the answers you seek.

ꨄ 🧸🎀 Go download Chat GPT and knock yourself out!! 💋

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voikiraz · 2 days ago

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— the 𝓽𝔂𝓹𝓮 of boyfriend to ☆ [ k.dh ]

Lovers . Bf!leehan x fem!reader w. Horrendously down bad ihan and reader puts hair ties on him ᐢᗜᐢ step ? #752 M.recordings [ first bonedo post omgggg, guys im obsessed with leehan can you tell ]

Syn. Leehan is the type of boyfriend to

Is the type to wake up for work early and move very quietly to not wake you up, and at the end he gives you a little forehead kiss as goodbye.

Is the type to just look at you with a little smile, a head tilt and glowing eyes when you're teasing him or simply just talking because he's just that much in love with you.

Is the type to let you go wash your hands after dinner as he sneakily tries to get some of the dishes done because he knows you do a lot for him.

Is the type to tie your shoes for you even though you told him a hundred times that you can do it yourself, still he picks you up and sits you on the high counter, letting your legs dangle down so he can tie your shoelaces.

Is the type to tell you that something important came up and he needs to leave on his only free day, only to go get you some flowers and your favourite chocolate bar. ( bonus points if he hides the calorie count on the back sude of the chocolate bar id he knows that youre wary about you calorie intake )

Is the type to run his hands through your hair until you fall asleep in his arms.

Is the type to speak to you all gently no matter what because he knows you've been through alot.

Is the type to take your makeup off for you if you're too tired to do it.

Is the type to keep a hair tie or a hair clip in his bag for you because you always lose yours.

Is the type that has a locked note of everything you like and dislike, even though he remembers it all.

Is the type to take you out every week no matter what, even if he is busy he always figures it out.

Is the type to always sit down as you give him a haul of the new stuff you bought from your girls trip with your friends, twirling you around in your gorgeous dresses and letting you try the new hair ties on him.

Is the type to brush your hair just because he loves your hair as he says. ( i cry )

Is the type to feel his heart doing a backflip if you're chatting with his mother or helping her with something thinking that he hit the jackpot.

Is the type to literally giggle when you speak in a different language, even though you could be insulting him, he doesn't really care anyways.

Is the type to get you matching necklaces with your initials on his and his initials on yours.

Is the type to make your birth date his phone password. ( cringe T-T )

Is the type to be obsessed with your home cooked food, saying it tastes better than anything.

Is the type to keep a hand around your shoulder or on your lower back when you're in a crowded place or when he simply wants to keep you close.

Is the type to have a pair of shoes in his car because he knows your high heels make you suffer.

Is the type to notice if you're uncomfortable and ask if you were okay, even if you were attending an important event, he'll leave if you want to he doesn't care, all he needs is to make you comfortable.

Is the type to keep scolding you when you get a little cut by accident saying you should be more careful as he puts a little bandaid on your finger.

Is the type to go out of his way to get you a huge box filled with stuff you've mentioned over the year as your birthday present. + plus a lot of handwritten letter.

Is the type to help you study if youre struggling, even if he doesnt know much about the topic hell try to atleast help you with flashcards, organising your space or making you a drink and sitting beside you to see if you need anything.

Is the type to have a spicific ringtone for you, he doesnt usually chrck his messages but for you, he sprints yo his phone.

Is the type bring you up in conversations so much no matter the topic at hand, and he doesn't even notice it.

Is the type to name one of his fish after you, and makes her fish tank extra pretty and speacial.

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comflexxed · 2 days ago

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june let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as sunny tattled on hans with her characteristic honesty. "i think peachy might have to give you a lesson or two on safe soup-eating," he teased, his voice warm despite the undercurrent of tension he still carried. his joke getting a little giggle out of sunny who was carefully lifting her spoon, blowing on the soup before taking a small sip.

june gave her a small smile, letting his gaze rest on her for a moment longer before turning his attention to his own bowl. the savory aroma of the soup filled the space between them, and as he took a sip, he nodded approvingly.

it felt easy to focus on sunny, to meet her energy and let her fill the quiet spaces. but he couldn’t ignore the weight in the room — the way hans had stumbled over his words earlier, the way his laugh now seemed just a bit too forced. he glanced at hans briefly, catching him mid-smile as he watched sunny. it was a tender expression, one that softened hans’ features and made june’s chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. he quickly looked back at his soup, stirring it absently with his spoon.

he tried to push the thoughts aside, focusing on sunny, who was now introducing a whole new set of rules for peachy to follow during dinner to peachy. the atmosphere around them was light, almost enough to drown out the heaviness he could sense just at the edges. almost.

he set his spoon down gently, folding his hands in his lap as sunny continued chatting. he wanted to let himself relax, but instead, he found himself watching hans from the corner of his eye, wondering if hans noticed the stiffness in his shoulders, the distance in his tone. he felt like he should say something, offer an explanation, but the words wouldn’t come. instead, he reached for his glass, taking a sip of water and letting the coolness settle the knot in his throat.

this wasn’t the time. not now, not here. for now, all he could do was sit at the table, sharing a meal and a moment that, despite everything, still felt too precious to ruin with the weight of his own feelings.

there was a tug on hans’ heart as he set their glasses of water in place, watching june leaning slightly to meet sunny’s gaze, asking her about table manners. it was one of those little things he did that hans had started to grow fond of, how he always found a way to teach sunny little lessons she could take with her forever. except today, watching him talk felt like it would choke hans with the heaviness of the emotions behind it. the longing for this to become permanent, but the knowledge that it couldn’t. june did not want any of this permanently.

unaware of any of hans' turmoil, sunny was showing off how she was sitting with her back straight and picking up a spoon, explaining to june and peachy that they shouldn’t play with their food. hans watched carefully in case she forgot to blow on the soup, ready to step in when needed, but in doing so forgot about it himself as he lifted the spoon to his lips—burning his tongue in the process and having a little coughing fit. as he reached for his water, he couldn’t help but have an embarrassed chuckle. “well, that’s not a good example of table manners. don’t do that, peachy.”

sunny giggled as hans acknowledged peachy, blowing her soup with some effort and snitching to june that his own dad did not know how to eat soup. hans shook his head, happy for her presence and, despite the awkwardness that seemed to have settled between the two adults around the table, she anchored them both together. in this moment, all that mattered was her. “be careful with your soup too, we don’t want to be bad examples for peachy,” he joked, letting a little lighthearted tone seep into his voice.

#[ 04 ] ─ * teacher verse { you light my way }

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ye4gerism · 3 days ago

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𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍!- 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

word count 4.8k

content warning a little bit of spiciness, false positive pregnancy mention, black reader friendly

author’s note hi. i suffered through writer’s block these past three months but BOOM mouthwashing and fanart of this fine ass man popped up on my fyp. i’ve watched two playthroughs of this game, so i hope i captured the right image of curly. oh and he’s australian here. and my requests are open!

synopsis on a study abroad trip, you meet another (handsome) study abroad student who talks his way into your heart and ends up being a key part of your life

Winter in London was not up to your standards.

You were here on a study abroad trip for your master's program. You did the whole overseas thing during one quarter during your time as an undergrad - it was a little visit to South Africa which you thoroughly enjoyed. But “travel some more,” everyone said.

After a lot of thinking, you gave in and decided to travel to the U.K. as you wanted something that felt familiar. You were wrong in so many ways - the roads followed unnecessary loops, plugs were shaped unusually, and...oh, every drink there was some sort of 'diet' or 'zero sugar' crap.

But over time, this place began to feel like a routine. It wasn't home but you were okay. You liked the opportunity to grow in your program and you liked your classmates. Everything was balanced - school, eat, chat, sleep.

Except for one particular day after your classes, a few of your classmates insisted you go to a pub with them. Something about 'getting you more exposed to the London culture'. After much pestering, you indulged.

So you found yourself at this pub but not as excited as the people who invited you. Over time, they were engulfed in their own conversations and inside jokes and you were off to the side, whiskey in front of you, own your own. It's weird to drink when the people who are supposed to have your back don't.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Oh boy, were you about to have your first unwanted encounter in London?

You look over your shoulder and see this strikingly tall man, his head full of bright hair. His shy smile

is highlighted by his stubble. Your eyes soften for a moment and the tension in your shoulders fades.

But then it returns. "I'm enjoying myself. Thank you. I'm with my...my classmates." Your tone is sharp. You gesture to your classmates, who are still in their own world.

"You're American? Are you sure these people know you?" He asks. You pause, trying to find a witty answer of your own. Part of you wanted to point out his thick accent as it wasn't as posh as the Londoners. Maybe Australian. You think for a while but you're still stuck.

"Curly." He extends his hand to you. You shake it.

"Your name is Curly?" you ask curtly. "And I'm supposed to feel bad about my situation?"

He chuckles at your response, his face settling into a smirk. "My name is Grant. Everyone just calls me Curly." He swirls his glass, eyeing the empty barstool next to you. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

You look him over noticing his muscular build once more. "I don't mind." He swings his leg over the seat and rests his forearms on the counter. Curly takes you in for a moment. You take this time to take note of his eyes - a shade of deep blue. He's sort of cute, you think.

"So, why exactly is an American girl like you here in London?" And it all goes away. You find yourself a little annoyed with his question as it's yet another variation of the same question you've heard since you arrived here.

"You ask that like I'm not supposed to be here. It's not like the United Kingdom is some sort of war zone," you respond. He raises his right hand in defense. "I'm studying abroad for a quarter. I'm a grad student," you finally answer. "You don't sound like you're from here either. What's your deal?"

"Well, I'm here for school too." He downs the rest of his drink. "Masters too actually. I'm trying to go to space."

"Still doesn't explain the accent," you cut in.

"Well, my father's Aussie and my mother's from here. They separated years ago and I spent most of my life in Australia with my Pa and spent time with my mother when I wasn't in school. She moved to the States after the divorce. I decided I'd pursue my college education in America and have been there since."

"So you're here studying abroad as well," you state. He nods and then gestures to someone behind him. "That's Jimmy. I like to think we've been attached to the hip for the longest time."

This Jimmy he speaks of is on the opposite side of the bar, socializing. "I'm really happy we got to take this trip together. He made my breaks great. I was really bummed that the person I considered my best friend lived on the other side of the world but the great thing about adulthood is the lack of limitation."

You laugh at his comment and he gives you a confused look. "As an adult, I feel that there are so many limitations. Especially as we get older."

"Well, it's up to you if you let those limitations run your life. You have free will, you know, and...and you typically only live once." He places a hand on your arm and it slowly runs down to your elbow. Your eyes are locked now.

"My name is Y/N."

"I like that."

You like the weight of his hand and you like his eyes and you like his hair. He seems like a cute guy and he has such a cute name - Grant Curly. What a cute face.

"Hey Curly." The moment is broken by an unfamiliar voice but a familiar face. The Jimmy guy. "It's getting late and we have shit to do. You think you can stop flirting and leave now." He pauses and looks at you. "No offense."

You're taken aback and not sure of what to say but you respect him for keeping his friend in check...but maybe not with that tone. You look behind you and see that your classmates have left you. So much for adults.

"You're right. I lost track of time," Curly admits sheepishly. He looks at you first, then at Jimmy. "This is Y/N."

"Great. Nice to meet you, Y/N." You wait for a handshake or something. "Let's go now." Jimmy starts to walk away from where you're both sitting.

"Sorry about him. He's nice! I promise!" Curly rubs his neck nervously. "How are you getting home? Going back with your friends?"

"They left. I'll have to call a cab or something," you say. He looks over at Jimmy, who's exiting the pub, and then back at you. "I'll take you back home. What's your address?"

"It's okay. Your friend...he doesn't seem receptive. And besides, I can take care of myself," You answer. You start to rummage through your purse and pull out your wallet to pay for your drink. Curly gently holds your wrist. Your breath hitches at the electrifying feeling. "Let me pay for your drink and take you home," he starts, "I know you're definitely capable of taking care of yourself but it'd kill me if I left you alone."

You look away from him for a moment and think. This was your opportunity to get his number. "Okay...I'll pay for the drink and you can take me home," you offer. He shakes his head and gestures to the bartender. "Please put this lady's drink on my tab," he says. Curly pulls out his wallet, then his card, and slides it over to the bartender. You lightly slap his arm in protest. "Why would you do that?"

He just smirks at you before taking back his card and receipt. "Let's go." He offers his hand to you to help you off the barstool but you playfully swat it away before plopping off.

Curly leads you outside to the parking lot and clicks the unlock button on his keys. His friend is leaning against the car and you take note of the fact that he was rushing Curly when he didn't even own a car himself.

"What is she doing here?" He asks. "Jimmy, we're dropping her off. You think you could move to the back so the pretty lady can sit up front?" His friend asks.

Jimmy gets off of the car and mumbles something illegible under his breath. You feel bad so you say something, “He can sit-"

Curly cuts you off, "No, no, you sit down." He opens the passenger seat for you and you slide inside.

Something you noticed about the two friends was how opposite they were; Jimmy was clearly someone who didn't like too much change and you assumed that Curly lacked any anxiety. They seem to balance each other out...maybe?

As you conversed with Curly about your respective lives, you couldn't help but notice Jimmy's eyes piercing your image through the rear view mirror.

“Hi love." You feel so much relief when Curly's lips meet yours. You can't help but melt against him. It felt so good to have him in your home.

The two of you had decided to go long-distance months after you met in London. Curly was based in Colorado; his mother lived there, it was where he attended school and he loved it so much because of the snow. It seemed like whenever you called, he was on some sort of mountain or on his way there. While you were living in California, where there wasn't much of that, Curly claimed it reminded him so much of home - so he didn’t mind you living there.

After your first meeting, you regularly hung out and spoke over the phone. Sometimes you both were lucky to be alone; he'd take you out to lunch or take you to tourist sights in London. Sometimes you'd spend time in his flat and Jimmy would be there. The latter wouldn't say much but you always felt like he never really wanted you around. When he did speak to you, your conversations would start somewhat simple and then he'd say something to kill the mood.

One night as your school's study abroad program came to an end, Curly showed up at your flat without any notice. The Curly you saw that night wasn't the one you were getting to know all this time - he was much more bashful than ever. Not the type of bashful when Jimmy tries to embarrass him but bashful in the sense that he was well into his twenties, almost 30, and was struggling to find the words to confess to you. Luckily for him, he didn't need to completely contextualize as you felt the same way.

"How is work, baby?" You ask him. He came to California as it was his turn to take the flight to see you.

"Same old, same old." He started working for some space freighter company months before he met you; you only heard about it once you got back to the States. You weren't too sure about the whole thing but he was making money and getting practice for the career he really wanted.

You pull away from his chest and take his image in. "I missed you so so much." Curly pulls you closer to him so that he can kiss you again. This time it's a bit longer. He pulls away looks behind himself to find your couch and leads you to it without bumping into anything.

He sits first and invites you to crawl onto his lap. Once you're settled, he grabs your thighs and you take hold of his shoulders, kissing him again. His hands roam from your thighs to your back before finding themselves under your shirt. At the feel of your bra, he asks, "Oh, what's this?"

You feel your cheeks heating up at his playfulness. "Why don't you take my shirt off and find out?"

Taking this as permission, Curly unclasps your bra and moves his hands to your shirt; you raise your arm as he pulls the bottom of your shirt off. Once it's been discarded, your bra slightly falls off your chest and Curly does you the honor of taking it off of you.

He lets the back of his hand run lightly against your nipple and you can't help but mewl a bit. "Missed me?" He asks. You nod. "Every single day."

"I think about you a lot. At work, at home, when I'm outside. It's hard knowing that I have such a pretty darling on the other side of the country." He brings one of your breasts to his lips and wraps his lips around your nipple, where his tongue dances around. He pulls his lips away with a 'pop'. "Grant," you let out breathlessly.

"I think about doing you at my desk, on my bed, everywhere." He lowers you down on the couch and adjusts himself so that he's on top of your lower half. "I think I'll take you on this couch and maybe if you're up to it, on your island counter next, and then after-"

He's cut off by a vibration in his pocket. "Just a moment, it's probably work," he says, pulling out his phone. You notice a slight annoyance on his face when he reads the Caller ID.

"Jimmy, hi." Speak of the devil. At the sound of his name, you shuffle to sit up on the couch. Curly puts a hand out to stop you but you swat it away.

"No, Jimmy, I didn't eat your pickles. Have you tried looking around the fridge?"

You reach next to him to pull your shirt and bra out of the crevice of the couch.

"You found them- no, I landed here hours ago."

You clasp your bra and put your shirt back on.

"I'm sorry that - Jimmy!" You jump at the volume of Curly's voice. He sees this, places a hand on your knee and mouths an apology. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't call you. I just got here. I'm with my girlfriend- huh? Ok. I'll talk to you later. Bye Jimbo." He then hangs up. Curly sits back on his knees. He brushes his hair back with his hand and releases a sigh before placing both hands on his knees and looking at you. "Sorry. Just Jimmy."

"I don't like him." You give him a pointed look. You cross your arms, obviously disappointed that his idiot friend ruined your time with your man. You're aching for him but at the same time, you don't even want to fuck Curly anymore.

"I think he's a nice bloke," Curly says under his breath. You raise your eyebrows, practically asking him to speak up. "It's like you guys are the brother and sister that hate each other for fun. You'll both come around eventually."

Your face twists in disgust and you fake gag, which makes Curly laugh. "What brother is deeply in love with their sibling, you in this case?" you question, "He clearly wants me out of the way."

"No, he doesn't. He loves you!" You can see Curly's face melt into confusion. "Maybe not love you...but he likes you around?"

You scoff. "See, you don't even know yourself." You wiggle your legs from under Curly and get up off the couch. He reaches for your hand. "You don't know want to...?" He cocks his head toward the couch.

You purse your lips and shake your head no.

"So gorgeous!"

"How many karats?"

"The proposal! What was it like?"

One year and a few months after your meeting, Curly decided to propose. He took you to Australia to meet his paternal side. In truth, you were scared of those big-ass Australian spiders and whatever the hell else happened to live there but your love for Curly was stronger. The night before your flight back home, he planned a candlelight dinner for the both of you in his father's home and proposed to you - your answer obviously being 'yes!'.

Today you were at your wedding shower with all your friends - Jimmy too!

"How do you feel about getting married after just a year of knowing each other? I mean, Grant can't possibly know everything about you in a year!"

Curly's mother was a piece of work. You had met her a handful of times during your trips to Colorado and yet you couldn't seem to just get along. You were polite but she always had something to say. There was some attachment to her son but he was her only one so you let it slide.

"Well...you do know we're getting older. I fell in love with him and have been since I met him. I feel that Curly-"

"Grant. His name is Grant," she interrupts.

You take a deep breath and smile a forced one. "Grant. I feel that he and I can be mature adults and grow and learn about our marriage and what makes it work." Part of you wants to mention why her marriage didn't work out but one of had to be the bigger woman.

Mrs. Former Curly hums trying to find some witty response. "Is the Bride-to-be avoiding me?" You let out a sigh of relief and you never thought you'd do it to this particular voice.

"Jimmy! Nice to see you, hun!" Curly's mom moves past you to hug Jimmy and kiss him on the cheek. For once, Curly's friend looks cleaned up compared to the other times you've seen him.

When Curly's mom pulls away, he looks over at you. "I wanted to pull Y/N aside. Haven't gotten to properly congratulate her on the engagement. I can catch up with you before I head home," Jimmy tells her.

After the engagement, Curly decided to move in with you. It was a decision you were confused by; you were easily willing to pack up your bags and move to Colorado with him. You knew he loved the snow and his mom would probably lose his shit if he was so far but he insisted on moving in with you.

At first, he wouldn't tell you the truth, something about high housing prices and about wanting to explore more. Eventually, he told you he wanted to get away from Jimmy. He opened up to his friend about the idea of getting engaged - showed him the ring and everything. It turned into an argument about you being the right choice and Jimmy low-key insulting you. After he told you the truth, you let Curly move in before the wedding.

Over time, Jimmy apologized to Curly and even extended an apology to you and the two got closer again. Although they weren't best buddies, it didn't sit right with you how quickly Curly took Jimmy back as a friend. Maybe Mrs. Former Curly was on to something.

"How have you been, Jimmy? Has living alone served you well?" You ask. He makes a funny face at you. Were you making a dig at him?

"It's fine. I actually got a new roommate. He's pretty chill. Keeps to himself." Jimmy avoids eye contact for a second. "How's living with Curly? I know he's ecstatic but are you?"

Living with Curly was great, especially when Jimmy was briefly out of your lives; uninterrupted cuddles, uninterrupted dinner, uninterrupted sex. You were living the life!

Instead, you answer, "Living with Curly is great. He's lovely. He's the best roommate and fiancé I could ever ask for."

Jimmy's trying to keep a light demeanor but he truly couldn't. "You know, I hope you're really right about that. Hopefully, he doesn't drop you like a sack of potatoes...although, I hope he does. I really really hope he does. You don't deserve any of this."

Your face drops and for once he's left you silent. Jimmy smirks when he realizes he's really hurt you. "Congratulations again, princess," he says before walking off.

You feel your body buzzing and you just want to cry but everyone - your family, friends, Curly - are all gawking over you and you don't want to set any alarms off. You want to find Curly but you know at the sight of him, you'd burst into tears.

You eventually find the strength to walk out of the party - passing by with polite 'excuse me's and 'just a moment's. You take a moment to feel the breeze. It picks up and your breath struggles but once it slows down, an entire weight is off your shoulders.

You decide to sit in the car. A tired heavy sigh escaped you. You noticed your fiancé left his winter jacket in the car and used it as a blanket.

For a moment, you wanted to cry but you had all this makeup and didn't want others to realize that you were upset. But besides that, you didn’t have the urge. Why couldn’t you cry?

You chalked it up to space. You needed to be away from Curly's petty mom. You needed to be away from Jimmy and his weird attachment to your fiancé. You both needed space for this whole thing to work out.

A shadow hovers over the window and you turn your head to see Curly, who lifts his finger to knock on the window. You open the passenger seat door and before allowing him to speak, you start first.

"Sit."

He doesn't argue and walks around the car to sit in the driver's seat. "Babe, what's going-"

"I can't do this, Grant." You can see his eyes and panicking and his mouth trying to find the right words. He grabs your hands and lets out an incoherent version of "but I love you" and other things you couldn't catch on.

You shush him and it takes him a while to quiet. You place a hand on his cheek. "I don't want to say my vows in front of people who are wishing on our downfall. You know what Jimmy said to me tonight?"

His eyes go from saddened to worry and then a building. "I knew it. I shouldn't have - what did he say to you?!"

You place a finger on his lip, quieting him again. "Grant, baby, please. We'll deal with him later. I want to go to the courthouse and marry you. I want to say the vows I wrote for you there. And then after, I want to eat a burger or something...something greasy and salty as hell, and then after that I..." You move your finger from his lips down to his chest and then even lower.

"You want to...?" He's playing coy.

You move his finger away from his pants and slap his chest, which makes him release an "oof". "I want Jimmy and your mom to suck it and let us have our moment," you say. You watch his face as he starts to think (he has this cute thinking face that you can't help but melt for).

"Ok. Deal." Curly kisses the corner of your lip. "Can you come inside now? Everyone's worried." You kiss his cheek now and chuckle an 'ok'.

Back at the party, everything felt fine. You had your friends and family to cheer you on and your amazing fiancé who loved you more than life. It was toward the end of the night you felt a shift.

You were catching up with another friend when you observed Curly walking Jimmy outside. After a few moments, it was just Curly that returned.

"They want you to do what for how long?"

"It's just a year, baby." He was still with this Pony Express bullshit. "It's nothing we haven't done before. Think of the other times as practice.”

He was doing space deliveries in a span of a few days or even hours to the International Space Station....when he could be working up there.

A part of you felt bad for complaining but the money with good. With your income combined, you were able to buy your first home. You had the most spacious dining room and connected kitchen. It helped with family gatherings, dinners with friends, and hard conversations like these.

"Why can't you get like...I don't know...a real job at like NASA?"

He slams his hand on the table. "It is a real job like NASA!"

You're startled - you can't think of one time he has ever raised his voice at you. Your utensils clutter against the plate and you get up, pushing the chair back with your legs. “Y/N, babe, sorry-” he tries.

You ignore him and leave the dining room, your shared bedroom being your target. Curly’s pleadings and footsteps can be heard behind you.

You reach your bedroom and Curly places a hand on your shoulder. It stops you from walking away from him again. He counters you and now both hands are holding your shoulders. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I know I never yell at you.” His right hand moves from your shoulder to your cheek. “I’m really really sorry. I shouldn’t have taken my frustrations out on you.”

You blink and your face scrunches up trying to stop yourself from crying, which you fail. Curly brings you in and holds you.

“Grant, I can’t do it. I can’t do a year,” you sob, “And with all the negative tests…I can’t do it. I need you here with me.”

The both of you were trying for a baby but haven’t been lucky. Just a lot of no’s and one false positive - that was the one that hurt the most. The excitement was immediately gone when your doctor told you there wasn’t anything to begin with.

So it was back to Square one and other options.

But this year's mission had thrown a wrench in your plans.

Curly leads you over to the bed and has you sit down. He kneels in front of you and takes your hand. “Listen, it’s some quick cash. A lot of money. When I get back, I’ll quit. I’ll find something else. And we can focus on ourselves and our family. I’ll make it happen. It’s a promise.”

There’s so much hope in his eyes. He sticks out his pinky finger, indicating that he is serious in his own lighthearted way. You hug him instead.

"So who's the lucky girl?"

Curly looks up and sees Swansea, who's pointing at the gold ring on his left hand.

"Oh!" He turns red at the thought of you. "My wife is back home. I didn't realize how hard it would be - being this far from her. We actually dated long distance for the longest time but yet, I can't shake the unusual feeling in me."

“Your wife…” The older man thinks for a moment. “Oh! The one that pulled you to the side to give you an earful!” He lets out this belly laugh and it goes on for quite a long time. Curly takes a deep sigh, letting his shoulders drop. Swansea slaps his left shoulder, perking him up again. “Yeah, I miss that too.”

Curly was about a month into this delivery trip. He stopped counting the days because it made him miss you more. He just wanted to blink and be home so that he could hold you in his arms and apologize a hundred times over.

You both got into an argument when you found out that Jimmy once again found a way to be in Curly’s space.

One night, Curly got back-to-back calls that he kept ignoring. “Just pick up please so we can sleep,” you tiredly snapped. He chuckled at your annoyance and kissed your forehead before complying.

You didn’t find out until you saw Curly off at work before the start of the mission.

“Are you kidding me? Don’t tell me he was the one calling!” You exclaimed. Curly looks back at his crew who are feet away saying bye to their own families or prepping the ship. “Can you please-”

“No! No, no, no, no,” you hold a finger in front of his face. “Why is he there? I tell you all the time - I don’t like him and I don’t like the influence he had, or I guess has in this case, on you-”

“He needed a job! He needed some help. Things aren’t good on his end. He’s a damn good pilot. He just…he just needs the right push.” His blue eyes hold so much sympathy. You loved your husband’s compassion for others but when it came to Jimmy - after all the times he made it clear you weren’t welcomed - you just wished Curly had a little bit of backbone.

There’s still so much anger and disappointment in you but you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.

“I hope it all works out and that your boy succeeds. Good luck, Captain.”

You raise both hands in defeat and start to walk away from Curly. This is your last image of him before you fully turn around. He says your name once but doesn’t follow you.

#mouthwashing #captain curly #curly mouthwashing #curly x reader #mouthwashing x reader #captain curly x reader #black reader #black yn #curly x reader mouthwashing

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blu3-ja3 · 3 days ago

Text

Price is going through a box at his home when he finds it, it's in a dusty little black frame with the glass cracked that makes it impossible to see the picture. He handed it to Gaz asking him to remove the picture while he continued going through the box. Price forgets about the photo as he finishes going through the box.

It isn't until Price walks into the rec room a week later hearing everyone snickering around each other does he remember what the picture could be. He moves towards the table and sees the rest of his team sitting around O'Connor.

"So he didn't have the mustache until after going to Urzikstan?"

"He got sunburned constantly but because of his bucket hat it was just the lower half of his face. Then he noticed our captain, a big German lad with a massive beard, he didn't get sun burn when he wore his hat..." Price could hear the smile on O'Connor's face, she always enjoyed regaling the boys with stories of Price when a lieutenant and she a fresh faced sergeant.

"When John started growing his out it was nowhere near as glorious as it is now, it was all patchy and inconsistent. The only thing he could grow was a mustache, theirs a picture somewhere of mustache John. It's one of the last pictures of my old squad..." There's a sullen sadness in O'Conner's irish voice. John remembers taking the picture she's talking about it was the last one before O'Connor had to change squads. After she became a lieutenant... Transferred to a less active duty job so Will was better taken care of. It wasn't until he was in his early teens did O'Connor join back for active duty.

"WAIT! I'll be right back I think I know what picture you're talking about!" Gaz's voice came closer towards Price, he walks into the room as Gaz is about to leave.

"Going somewhere Lieutenant?"

"Yes sir, I've got something to show Captain O'Connor!"

Price steps to the side to allow Gaz to pass before moving to sit at the table. Ghost sat quietly reading, Soap had his newest sketch book and was filling pages, Roach was chatting away with O'Connor as she was writing. Price sat down next to his second captain and looked over her shoulder to see her filling out some paperwork.

There are rapid approaching footsteps as Gaz appears panting holding a familiar black picture frame. There's a glint of new glass in the frame, Gaz moves towards Price and sits down next to him placing the picture frame down on the table.

"Captain Price found this while we were going though some boxes at his house. Handed me this, got new glass for the frame."

"Yes this is it, Jaesus, that haircut!"

"Never understood why you kept it so short, you constantly complained about not being able to put it up."

"Old habit, it was one less thing for Oliver to grab when I was trying to get away. I started growing it out after I got the desk job and kept it long because I liked it."

Price remembers those times. When she'd come back from leave with fresh bruises, flinching every time someone raised a hand or a voice. It was relieving to watch her slowly come out of her shell, 8 years of watching her raise William and become more of herself.

"So who's all in the photo, that's Price and you but who else?" Gaz pointed to the 4 others in the picture.

"Well the tall gentleman with the glorious beard is Captain Müller, the lad in the sunglasses is Kinsley..."

"The muppet next to me is Evans and the bloke in the truck is Bernard."

"You look weird without your beard Cap."

"So when do we get to see clean shaven Captain Price?"

"Never, I worked too hard to get this beard to where it is."

"I think I'd leave you if you shaved it, I like the scruff!"

"Should I grow my beard out LT?"

"Your already pretty scruffy as is Suds"

"If you grow it out I'll shave it in your sleep Johnny!"

Everyone continues chattering away, doing nothing while waiting for their next mission.

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vulpixisananimal · 2 days ago

Text

(Odile)

("Cardio is good for you." Yes and so is sunshine, and you get sunburnt easily. Gems alive. . .)

(You hastily walk down the street, to catch up. Thankfully, Pétronille got Ramos and Bonnie to wait for you before continuing on. You sigh when you do catch up.) "Oh try not to rush an old lady too much."

"Sorry M'dame." (Ramos rubs the back of their head.) "Just, excited! So-"

"Less talk more walk then!!" (Bonnie interrupts, before continuing on. You shake your head, and follow.)

(Ramos and Bonnie took the lead, the two of them joking and chatting while you stayed a little back with Nille. Wolworth seemed like a nice enough town, but you really would like to sit down.)

". . . So." (Nille talks a bit quieter.) "Still got suspicions?"

"Hard to say. . ." (You glanced at her.) "You?"

"I dunno." (She squints, thinking.) "they were a crab and a half in Jouvente, but they've only been helpful since then."

"Or is that mind craft talking." (You chuckle softly.) "But I can't help but agree. . ."

"Right?" (She laughs as well.) "Like, c'mon. . ."

"Mhm." (You look back up to Ramos and Bonnie.) "Boniface seems to trust them now."

"Right. . ." (Nille pauses for a moment.) ". . . If Ramos lays one hand on Bonbon they're dead meat."

"That'll make two of us." (You nod. Gems. . . And here you were all excited to travel the world with your new little family. Take a vacation, try new foods, not a care in the world. . . But now you were off being heros again. Ha! You wonder which aspect you must have annoyed to deserve this.)

(Ramos gasped excitedly as they turned a corner.) "There's my house!!!!" (They took off running. Again.)

(You sigh; joining Nille and Bonnie in catching up. Turning the corner, the little side street had a collection of houses, two stories, each with ample space for a garden. Ramos was waiting at the third one down, bouncing excitedly.)

(You chuckle as you catch up.) "Something tells me you're a little excited."

"YEAH!!!" (Ramos turned to the gate to the small garden and stepped inside.)

"Who's keepin' this garden?" (Bonnie asks, they wandered over to a bushel of lavender that was dying.) "Looks dead."

"Oh! I used to before I left, but Eri liked taking care of it!" (Ramos waved a hand, having made it to the front door.) "It's probably just because it's not the season. Winter and all."

"Y'sure?" (Bonnie squinted.) "Still looks pretty bad."

"I dunno, it's kinda cute." (Nille chuckles, joining Ramos.) "Bet the plants'll be glad you're back!"

"Haha! Makes two of us!!" (Ramos smiled, and tried the door. Locked.) ". . Weird."

"Hmm, could they be out?" (You comment, looking at the closed curtains.) "Shopping, perhaps?"

"Or asleep." (Ramos knocked on the door.) "Eriiii!! Knock knoooock!!!"

(You wander around the garden. It was small, nice. The front door was along one side, the opposite was the gate to the street. Either side was bordered by a neighbors garden. You went to one side, looking at the hedges that, by the looks of it, was once very well kept.)

(You turn back to the others. Ramos and Nille were still waiting, and Bonnie was looking at the other plants. Well, if Eri wasn't in you could go to the House of Change. Leave a letter, talk to a neighbor. There's options.)

"O-oh!" (A strangers voice from behind you. Turning, the neighbor, an older man, had come out of his house.) "You're, Change you're not one of the Saviors, are you?"

"TWO!!" (Bonnie somehow was right by your side, peeking over the fence.) "We're the Opposite Spectrum Alliance!!! Heheh."

"Quite." (You chuckle.) "My name is Odile, this is Boniface. That is Pétronille, Boniface's sister, and that is Ramos, who we've been traveling with."

"O-oh, well. . ." (There's hesitance in his voice.) "Are you. . . Looking for something?"

"well yes, we're looking for-"

"Oh! Hey Mr. Fluran!!" (Ramos runs over.) "How've you been??"

(Mr. Fluran looked confused for a moment before it clicked.) ". . . Oh!! Did you Change? Ramos now?"

"Yup!" (Ramos was beaming.) "I liked Jasmine but I just, needed something different."

"Ah that's the Vaugarde spirit!" (He chuckles.) "I've been, well I've been better. Running around, taking care of the place, the back's been acting up again. The aches only got worse when. . ."

". . . When. . ?" (You ask curiously.)

"Well, you know. . ." (He looks between you, Ramos, Nille, Bonnie. His smile drops, his eyes soften.) ". . . Do, do you not know?"

"Did something happen?" (Nille chimes in.)

"I. . ." (He look away, covering his mouth with his hands. He took a few breaths, then looked back at Ramos.)

". . . M-mr, Mr. Fluran?" (You dare not look at Ramos' face.)

(The neighbor looked horrified, and looked.) ". . I-I. . . Ramos, I'm sorry, but. . ."

(The bugs in the garden stopped moving out of politeness.)

(Even the wind paused to listen.)

(Your heart would have stopped too if it didn't have a job to do.)

(Ramos voice wavered.) ". . . P-please, please don't say it. . ."

"I'm, I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, but. . ."

(The moment lasted forever.)

". . . Eri is dead."

(No one says anything.)

(No one could say anything.)

(. . . . . . . . . . . . . .)

". . . . . . Okay." (It was Ramos. Their voice was shaky, soft, cracked even.)

". . . . . There's, some, papers with, details if you want them or. . ." (The neighbor offers.)

"Please give them to Odile." (You turn to look at Ramos. Their face was a masterwork of agony and shock.) "Do you have a key. To the house."

"Y-yeah, your house now. Left in the will."

"Okay." (Ramos responds flatly. Fluran fishes the key out of his pockets and drops it into Ramos' hand.)

(Ramos turns to the door and unlocks it. Bonnie walks up to them.) ". . . 'Oz? You okay?"

"I need to be alone, please." (Ramos opens the door.) "Second floor, first door on the right. That's my room. I'll be there."

>>>

(Mirabelle)

"I-I, I need should run and tell them!!" (You start to move.)

"You don't need to, they know already." (Perci responds flatly, eyes closed. He wasn't focused on the puzzle.) "The neighbor just told them the news."

"The- oh of COURSE you did." (You huff, and storm back to where you were standing.)

"Yes yes I know I know." (Perci started working on the puzzle again.) "Apparently a letter was sent to Ramos, so I thought they would have known. I'm sorry."

". . ." (After the King attacked, the mail had been struggling with getting letters delivered. And still were. . .)

(The two of you didn't say anything for a while. Listening to the metal puzzles tink tink tinks. . .)

(You don't know what to do. Sif was exhausted, Perci was here, but you had a kind of. . . Truce? But, the person you were here to see was. . . Dead.)

". . . Well. . ." (Perci sighed, and slipped the puzzle into his pocket.) "I have, chores to do. Work to get done. Excuse me, Lady Mirabelle."

(You moved back so he could pass.) ". . . Chores?"

(Perci chuckled.) "What, do you think I'm so evil I can't clean the house?"

(You shook your head.) "N-no I just, didn't think- clean the house?"

"Ha! Lady Mirabelle, I live here."

". . . O-oh!" (He, lived here?!? But, didn't- O-okay!!) ". . . Well. . . I hope, you, have a nice, day?"

(Perci smiles at you, then turns to leave.) "Same to you, Lady Mirabelle. . ."

(. . . . . . .)

(. . . . . . . . . . You turn back to the medhouse. You had to, let Isabeau and Null know.)

>>>

(Odile)

(Eri "nomiddlename" Tempest. Non-binary (They/them). Aged 72 (Estimate). Country of origin: unknown (Estimate: Island). Occupation: retired, former captain of the Wolworth Militia. Date of death: the middle of Autumn, two in the morning.)

(Ever since the Kings attacks, Eri Tempest devoted themself to training the new members of the Wolworth Militia. Dr. Joy stated many times that they are pushing themself too far. Eri died in two in the morning of a stress induced heart attack. The neighbor was alerted when their garden was not watered in the morning. Doctors declared them dead at scene.)

(They leave their favorite longbow and the duties of the Captain of the Wolworth militia to Ark. They leave multiple small trinkets to friends. They leave their home and remaining items to one "Jasmine A. Tempest.")

(Their last wish is to have their body cremated and sealed in a jar for Jasmin to spread across the highest peak along the sea.)

(. . . . .)

(You looked over the Last Will of Eric Tempest again and again. Committing each word to memory, and adding little details mentally. Was this a joke? Another tragedy on this little comedy?)

(Ha. Siffrin is rubbing off on you.)

(You were sitting on a couch in the living room, looking down at the coffee table that was covered with papers. Every time you looked up, your eyes focused on the Urn.)

(. . . Well, it's good to meet you, Eri.)

(You shake your head and look down again. Maybe this blow wouldn't have been so bad to Ramos if the letter informing them of their death wasn't lost in the mail.)

(You lean back. You can't read this anymore, you take off your glasses and rub your eyes. Gems alive. . .)

(The place was well kept, Mr. Fluran had come by once a week or so to dust things down and such. Bonnie was already getting to try the kitchen, and Nille was unpacking things and getting it all organized. You, of course, where here reading some of the most morbid words one could read.)

(The loss of ones parent. . .)

(. . . . .)

(You wonder how Ramos is taking this.)

(The front door opens, looking up, it was Mirabelle. She looked very tired. You wave her over.)

(She walks over and sits down in an armchair with a sigh. There was a silence for a moment, only hearing the cooking from Bonnie in the other room.)

". . . . So Isabeau is staying over, isn't he." (You ask.)

"Yes, he is." (Mira nods.) "The doctor said SIffrin should stay the night, and Isa wanted to make sure he'd be safe."

"I doubt there's much to worry about in a city like this." (You smirk, then drop it seeing Mirabelles face.) ". . . What is it."

". . . Perci was at the medical house. Merlon is recovering from craft exhaustion as well." (She scowls and looks away.) "Perci offered me a truce, essentially. Don't mess with each other until they're recovered."

"I. . . See. . ." (You rub your temple.) "Why are they here, I wonder."

"Apparently, they live here." (Mira crosses her arms.)

"Who lives here?" (Asks Nille, who was walking down from upstairs.)

"The Monets. From the Inn?"

"Oh crabs." (She sighs dramatically and collapses onto the couch.) "Can we not get one crabbin' break?"

"No rest for the wicked." (You start picking up the papers and organizing them.)

(Mirabelle leaned in, curious.) ". . . What's that?"

"Eri's last will." (You respond flatly.) "Ramos asked me to look through it."

". . . R-right. . ." (She looks away. You weren't sure if she knew or not but. . . It looks like she did.) ". . . That must have been, terrible. . ."

"Ramos' been holed up in their room all day." (Nille rubs their shoulder.) "Hopefully sleep'll do them good."

"I hope so too." (You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment with all the paperwork gathered. The Monets, the wave of sadness, Ramos and Eri, Siffrin. . . It's all getting quite complicated already. Gems. . .)

"DINNERS READY!!!!" (You hear Bonnie yell from the other room. You chuckle, standing up. You'll file all those curious little thoughts for later. Because right now, you were hungry.)

#smile #a normal act??? in MY fanfic??? NO WAY!!!#isat #in stars and time #art #isat art #siffrin system au #isat au #isat fanart #sifstem #isat spoilers #isat mirabelle #isat odile #isat ramos #isat fanfic #isat oc

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delicatebarness · 3 days ago

Text

cry baby | chapter one

Summary: An unsettling encounter outside the bar leaves Cry Baby shaken, and Bucky finds out she's been dating.

Warning: Emotional Distress | Suggestive Comments | Physical Touch | Intimidation | Aggressive Behaviour

Word Count: 1583

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I apologize for any name changes, perspective changes, etc that haven't actually been changed but it's hard to pick them all out. I hope you enjoy it as much as the first time, and as always any feedback is welcome!

Summer began to settle over the city, warmth wrapping around everything from the streets to the bar. The familiar sounds of laughter and motorcycle engines roaring became clearer as you approached closer to the bar. Already late to meet your friends as is, you began to walk a little faster.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the prettiest face in the city,” Brockley Rumlow drawled, his eyes taking over your body, making your skin crawl, as you walked by him and his group of friends in the small parking lot.

“Brock,” you acknowledged as you tried to move past him. He stepped in front of you, blocking the path.

“What’s the rush? How about you and I have a little chat?” a smirk tugged at his lips as he began to reach up toward your cheek.

Glancing around you hoped to spot a familiar face that wasn’t loyal to Brock, but the street was eerily quiet. “I’m meeting my brother, excuse me,” You muttered under your breath.

He leaned in closer, his hand now reaching out toward your cheek. Gently caressing the skin as he continued to speak, “I’ve been watching you; you know. I’ve always wondered if you taste as sweet as you look.”

Panic surged through you, and as you took a step back your eyes darted toward anything but his. Unbeknownst to you at the time, Sam Wilson, your brother’s roommate and a close friend, pulled up outside the bar, just in time to witness the interaction.

Without hesitation, Sam stepped out of his truck with a slam of the door and strode toward the small commotion.

“Is there a problem here, CB?” Sam’s words cut through the air like a knife, drawing the attention of both you and Brock, grabbing the slightly older man by the scruff of his jacket.

A sign of relief escaped your breath at the sight of Sam, grateful for the timely intervention. Brock, on the other hand, sized up Sam with a grimace across his face before deciding to retreat, bringing his hand up as a show of surrender.

“I’ll see you around,” Brock spat toward you, his tone dripping with implication before he turned back toward his friends.

Sam watched his every move, his expression guarded. He turned to you, once he was assured Brock wasn’t an issue. “You okay?” he asked, offering a reassuring smile.

You nodded, and the weight of the tension lifted. “Thanks, Sammy.” He returned the nod, glancing around the surroundings once more before leading you into the bar. His protective instincts were still alert.

Inside the bar, the rest of the group noticed you and Sam walking through the door. Everyone exchanged greetings as you slid into the booth, sitting opposite James. The scent of Your vanilla perfume mixed with the smell of smoke and beer; the combination had become comforting to him. As you settled into the booth, James rested his beer bottle down on the table.

“Took you long enough,” Natasha gestured your bottle toward you before taking a quick sip. “The date went that well, did it?” You couldn’t resist making a joke at Your friend's expense.

James’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of a date, his jaw clenched as your cheeks rushed with heat.

“A date, huh?” he remarked, sarcasm laced in his tone. Fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve, you avoided eye contact with any of them, especially your brother, Steve.

“Um, yeah...” You began with a mumble but before you could dwell anymore on it, Steve redirected the conversation, but the sense of James’s piercing gaze made the unease linger.

Throughout the night, you found herself stealing glances at Sam, unsure of how to navigate the aftermath of the situation outside. You began replaying Brock’s words in Your mind, causing Your emotions to get the better of her.

James sensed the sudden quietness, catching one of your sniffles. “What now?” he mumbled, only loud enough for you to hear.

“Just ran into someone outside,” You sniffed again, glancing back at James with tears filling Your eyes. “It’s fine now,” You shot him an unconvincing smile.

“Yeah,” he began as he picked up his bottle, “looks like it.” he glanced back over at Youras he took anotYourswig.

As you stepped outside, you watched as your friends began to retrieve their motorcycles and trucks, getting ready to leave. The six of them began mumbling good night to each other, and you told each of them to drive safely, as James stood watching by his motorcycle.

He offered you a tentative smile and gestured toward the helmet on his seat. “Need a ride?”

You nodded, and he passed the helmet to you and gave you a hand climbing onto the back. The ride was exhilarating, wind whipped through the stray strands of you’s hair as You clung to James’s waist.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you softly said as James turned off the engine outside the apartment building.

“Anytime, Sweetheart,” he paused before he turned to face her, his expression turning into something more serious. “Can we talk for a minute?” he asked, his eyes searching the deep blue of Your own. You passed him the helmet back as a knot formed within Your stomach, but You nodded sheepishly. “I hope your date went well.”

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling self-conscious. You pulled Your cardigan around your body. “Um, yeah, it was okay,” You mumbled, trying to avoid his gaze.

He began to chuckle softly, sensing Yournervousness. “Just okay? Wow, sounds thrilling,” he remarked with a sarcastic tone.

You managed a weak smile, his teasing making you feel more embarrassed. “Um, well, it was our second date,” you admitted shyly, fidgeting with the edge of Your cardigan sleeve. “He asked for a third.”

James’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but the playful smirk never left his lips. “Oh, did he?” he gasped, an amused tone in his response. “Looks like you made quite an impression then,” he continued, his tone still playful, but intrigued. “Is it Sam?” he questioned.

Your head shot up to meet his gaze, and confusion spread across your features. “What? No, it– it’s,” You took a moment to pause, Your nerves causing you to hesitate. “It’s a guy from work, John Walk–,”

James’s playful demeanor vanished within an instant, anger replacing the simmer in his eyes. His jaw tensed, and his eyes narrowed into a hard glare as he processed what you admitted. "John Walker?” James’s voice was low, a dangerous growl, the name leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

You nodded, “Yeah, um, he’s just a guy from work,” You hesitantly replied, thrown off-guard by James’s sudden change.

“That son of a–” his voice trailed off, the words barely contained his fury. His anger seemed to intensify, his voice rising in volume as he continued venting his frustration toward her. “I can’t believe you’d even consider going near him!” he bellowed, words echoing through the empty street.

You flinched at the force of his outburst; each word felt like a physical blow. “Buck–” Your voice quivered with emotion.

His features contorted in anger as he continued, “You don’t understand. " Rage began to consume him, making it almost impossible for either of them to hear your voice asking him to stop. “He’s dangerous, he—he’s not someone you want to be involved with!”

Each word began to cut deeper than the last, leaving you feeling vulnerable, and the tears spilled down your. “Please, Bucky,” You shouted back at him, your voice rising in desperation, “stop shouting at me!”

Your raised voice caught James off guard, and his anger faltered. He finally looked down at her, and at that moment, he saw the tears, the fear, and the hurt.

The realization that he had caused it, hit him like a punch to the gut.

Sighing heavily, James’s features softened, and the red lights in his eyes dimmed as he reached down, gently wiping Yoursoaked cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, every part of him filled with regret, “I... I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Sh–shouting at m–me like t–that doesn’t help,” Your voice shook, and was interrupted by hiccups. His gaze truly softened as he took in your words and expression. “You– you know that better than a– anyone.”

With that, he pulled you into a comforting hug, holding you close as they both took a moment to calm down.

“Let’s get you inside, Sweetheart,” he mumbled, his voice now barely a whisper as he felt your shaking subside. You nodded, sniffling as you pulled back from him.

That night, you both walked up to your apartment, and James kept a protective arm around you. Once inside, you realized tonight would be different. Usually, you’d move to the kitchen and begin patching up his wounds.

“Let me take care of you for a change,” he said, leading you toward the couch. He fetched a warm face cloth and gently wiped away the tear stains against your cheeks. You leaned into his comforting touch, a new sense of safety enveloping you.

***

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #cry baby series #bucky fic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #biker!bucky #biker au

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badomensgoodomens · 2 days ago

Text

BAD DECISIONS

CHAPTER 3

Noah Sebastian x Reader

CW: really random smut. soz. not proofread! really random. definitely for the plot moment.

i hope you guys eat this up like you did with the teaser.

taglist at the bottom

It was nearing the end of the US tour, and honestly, my bones ached. We were all drained, even Jolly, who always kept a calm-ish composure, was antsy. It was our one day off, Matt dragged us to some shopping plaza.

It was lowkey chill, just sitting in the food court talking about some post tour plans. I swear I saw a flash of red hair, it made me sit up a little straighter. But when I turned to look, there was nobody. God, I was so exhausted I was seeing shit now. Nick was chatting about how apparently a pretty girl moved in next door to the house he shared with his brother. About the time that kid got a girlfriend.

Nicholas invited me to spend the break at his parents' ranch, which felt like home to me too—they were practically my second family. That was the bond Nicholas and I shared. Ruffilo had always been my best bud, Nick and Jolly coming in at a close second. I took Natasha there once, to meet my makeshift family. She didn’t show up.

It was embarrassing on my behalf, I had boasted about her to Nicholas mom countless of times. She was excited for me, my career restricted my love life, yet there I was, hooking up with girls.

I swear I saw her red hair again, the same red hair that we’d get into arguments about. Stupid arguments really, her hair kept staining my pillows, wondering how many other guys' pillows she stained.

“Dude- are you even listening?” Matt leaned forward, waving his hand in my face. I rubbed my eyes with my palms. “I’m fucking wrecked.” I grumbled, taking a sip of the coke in front of me. Matt hummed, flicking through his work diary. “Got 6 months break, back on for 6 months, and off again.” I just nod, too exhausted to absorb any information.

Back at the venue, I immediately seek refuge in between the grey sheets of my bunk, my mind a million words per minute. I fumbled with the cover of my notebook, scrambling down some notes.

Why’s this always gotta happen to me?

I should have known.

I never fail to learn from mistakes, still throwing stones.

Blah blah blah….

I feel my focus fading away, i had high hopes

Running from the man I used to be, but I'm too slow.

It was honestly the roughest of rough drafts, but I was itching to get back in the studio. Ideas were just piling up, emotions weaved within poem-like structures, they were all.. rough, and definitely needed fine tuning, but they were beginning to represent an album.

Songwriting is not something that can be forced, it's an intricate, spread of emotion with an equally as unique and specific composition in the background. It was never good enough. Never, ever good enough.

I had watched time and time again how the scrunched up failed drafts piled up, nothing ever feeling raw enough, or not too the fans liking. It didn’t help that Sumerian were so fucking picky on albums, or that ever since we released that song with poppy, we were obligated to tour with her. The rumours were digging my head in.

Is this really what I want for my career? I ponder on that question too much. I should bring it up in therapy with Dr Tomson. Fuck. I was getting off track. Literally. Sumerian’s requirements for this album was a track that would hit the charts, and a minimum of 12 songs. Part of me regrets signing with them, but would I be this successful had I not?

I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. Matt had pointed that out when I woke up the next morning. I just hummed, brain on autopilot. “You know, we need an artist for the new album’s cover, considering booking times that's something we need to plan months in advance.” Matt spoke, flicking through his diary. Nick stood in the kitchen in grey sweats, brewing coffee. “I could find somebody,” he said, handing me a cup.

I nodded, sitting on the bar stool. “Is Jolly up yet?” I asked, flicking through the pages of my notebook, briefly going over some of my rough, rough drafts. Nick shook his head, “Him and Nicholas got back late that night, something wrong with the wires and shit.”

NEUTRAL POV

She was scribbling in her journal as the sun went down, propped up on her windowsill, once again. Writing a poem about the bitterness and scars of her childhood, it always stuck out to her how Nevada was so quick to dance around what actually happened, yet she had no problem shouting it to the world. Whether it be from art, or journaling, it was easier to keep a manuscript, a direct display on what shaped her to be who she is today.

It felt like all her knowledge and skills of painting were slipping through her fingers, but it hurt too much to resume again. Emotionally, and financially. Maybe this was just something she’d have to come to terms with, she couldn’t dwell on her past quite like this anymore, she wasn’t old enough to do that quite yet.

“Let’s go out.” She said, her words rushed, standing in the doorway of Nevada's room. Nevada’s eyes were wide, she had begun to worry about her, and now she’s just popped up saying she wants to go out?

Choose your battles I guess

Nevada and Y/n got ready together, something they used to do as rebellious teens. Good vibes and pregame drinks, music blasting through the house. All dolled up in sparkly dresses, with dawn the hype man, the two set off into the city. The city was illuminated with a series of advertisements and bustling nightclubs, everyone with the same objective; to get absolutely shit-faced.

And so those two did, Dawn snuck Nevada away to do.. stuff.. In the car, while she was grinding up against a particularly tall blonde boy. His voice was fuckin hot, like musky and sexy and every single adjective you could use to describe a man. And god, he smelt good, and his touch just made her melt.

She hadn’t expected to run into her cousin and her husband, and his bandmates. But when she laid her eyes on that fine ass man standing- no. looming over the group of british boys. He introduced himself as Vessel, quite an uh- unique- name, but who was she to judge? She was horny, and there was a tall metal vocalist right in her grip.

Everything about him was enticing, his defined, gorgeous abs, his absolute killers of canine teeth, and his voice. It made her unbelievably wet, she needed something. She’d gone without for so long, having thrown her vibrator out when she met noah.

They snuck down the side alleyway, the booming stereo filtering through the constant revolving door around the corner. She was a fit of giggles as he hiked up her sparkly dress. Compliments rolling off his tongue, as he traced the curves of her ass.

His fingers ran along the waistband of her panties, soft, dainty pink ones. “Yeah..? you want me to touch you?” She smiled up at him, her pearly whites making his jeans tighten. With a soft tug of the hips, she had her back to him as he fumbled with the button of his jeans.

“Fuck… so wet.. already?” he groaned out, lining himself up. She let out a strangled moan as she sank down on his cock, overwhelmed at the size. Her fingers grasped around his wrists as he began to move, holding on for dear life.

It was a quickie in a back alley way, but it didn’t stop the shame when she woke up in his bed the next morning.

“I’m so fucking sorry oh my god my cousin is going to kill me-” she spouted off, pacing around this poor guys island bench. He sat at the barstool, eating bacon and eggs.

“Stop stressing.” he huffed gruffly, a sleepy look on his face.

“Dude- like.. Respectfully, youre a fucking stranger, i’m in your house, you’re in an anonymous band bro!!” She shouted, a little bit more than panicked.

“It was a quickie, nothing more. We can be friends if you’re so worried about it.” he mumbled, eating his food.

“Ugh…” she sat down on the barstool next to him, stealing his coffee cup. “So… what’s it like being a rockstar?”

“Busy. Why do you ask?” he questioned, turning to face her.

“Well… I dated- sorry, hooked up with a rockstar and never really asked him about it.” she shrugged, not caring if it was an overshare.

“How come?’ he asked, a curious tone in his voice.

“Didn’t necessarily stick around for me to ask. Was more of a ‘pump and dump’ guy.” she responded, toying with the keychains of her car keys.

“Don’t ever say that again.” He cringed, resuming eating. “So why’d you hook up with him in the first place?”

“He was hot.”

“No shit Sherlock, other qualities.”

She sat for a moment, really questioning everything. Why. why, why?

“He was carefree, wasn’t afraid to be himself, but was a bit afraid of commitment.” was the answer she scrounged up. He just hummed, “So who was it?”

She grimaced, awaiting this question. “I'd rather die than tell you because I think you guys at least have connections.”

“How’d you meet this douche anyways?”

“I was studying art and design at a local uni, he was studying design briefly.”

“You do graphic design?” Vessel asked, looking down at her quizzically.

“Mostly art, but I want to turn it digital.” she responded, pulling out her phone to show him pictures. He studied each unique piece intricately, his face lighting up. A man who could appreciate real art.

“How much would I have to pay you to design an album cover?” he asked, putting the phone down. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“I like your style, I'm offering you a chance to work with me.” he states bluntly, staring at her. “What the fu-” he cut her off, “we can get you head of the design team, i liked your work and i’m willing to pay however much.”

“Don’t you have like.. bandmates to discuss this with?”

“bandmate, others are tour personnel.”

“Interesting- anyways, are you sure?”

“Yes, Being on the design team also means you’re in charge of designing different things like merch, billboards and visuals. It sounds stressful, but the pay is good and you’ll have a chance to come on tour with us.”

“Fuck man- take a girl out to dinner before telling her this”

He chuckles, grabbing out a notepad.

“I’ll write my details down, I can get you employed asap, if you want to do this.”

“Do I have time?” she asked, rubbing her thighs anxiously. He nodded, Her phone rang and she fumbled to answer it, bringing the nearly dead phone to her ear.

“Dude where the fuck are you-”

It was her sister.

“Hi, first off! I'm 23. I can be wherever I please, but can you please come pick me up?”

“Only you’d get a job opportunity out of hooking up with someone.” Nevada laughed, driving a ridiculously hungover Y/n home to their shared townhouse. “Hey- we are cool now! He’s a friend, and he said I could go on tour with him.” she retorts back.

“Are you trying to seek vengeance for noah?” Nevada asked, sipping shitty iced coffee. “Most definitely. That fucker thinks he can act like he didn’t tell me he loved me mid sex, he can suck it when im touring with his favourite band.”

“Absolutely cold,” Nevada laughed, the hood was down of Dawn's convertible, the wind blowing through her wavy highlights. The air smelt of sea salt, the beach not being far from their house. She felt a little more free now, ultimately deciding to take up Vessel's offer, on both the album cover and design position. Although she would be leaving Nevada to manage the cafe on her own, Nevada knew she needed this. A push in the right direction, to make some new friends, and perhaps run into some old ones.

Noahs POV

Holy fucking shit maybe i wasn’t hallucinating.

In the sea of fans you couldn’t miss her unmistakable red hair and plump lips. It seems as though she’s gotten even more botox from the last time he saw her. Why was she even here? What could she benefit from even being here? I had to peel my eyes away from her, trying to maintain the energy of the crowd.

She was by herself, in a tight skirt and a bikini top. I saw her towards the back, but as I progressed through the store I noticed she was nowhere to be found. It was relieving and terrifying all at the same time.

We finished our set, sweat-drenched and exhausted, but riding the high of the music. Weaving between crew members, I entered the dressing room, boys in tow.

“Hi”

I jumped, turning around to face whoever was standing by the door.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I growled, stepping back as she stood forward. “Natasha, how did you get through?” Jolly stated, stepping closer to her. “I’m just here to see noah!” she smiled, veneers on full display, a coy smile across her red lips. “I don’t want to see you,” I sneered, arms crossed.

“Come onnn noah! Lighten up!” A smile flashing over her face, she stepped forward, reaching for me. An all too familiar feeling pooling in my stomach.

“Don’t.” Jolly said firmly, stepping between us. Anger rippled through me, not wanting to swing on a woman. My palms were sweaty, why does she want to talk? Nicholas appeared at the door. “Hey do you guys want to go- what the fuck?”

Natasha stood between us, twirling strands of red hair. Nick fumbled with his phone to contact security, visibly looking stressed, I shot a look at Nicholas. “You know, I really miss you, Noah bear.” She smiles, her annoying voice hanging heavy in the air. “What the fu- Tash you fuckin cheated on him?” Nick piped up, putting his phone in his back pocket. I cringe at the nickname, rubbing a hand over my face. The tension was palpable, silence echoing through the corridor.

“Get out of here..” I grumble, thoroughly embarrassed. Her face feigns offence, “Noah, we were made for eachother!” Nicholas tensed in the doorway, each member uncomfortable with the old yet new presence. “Get the fuck out of here Natasha.” He calls out, leaning against the doorframe, a pure look of disdain displayed on his face.

“Boo! You guys all suck. Noah bear loves me, and he’ll come visit me at the Inn tonight!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly. Beaming with some profound pride. “I don’t fuckin like you-” “stop denying it my love!!” she shouted, in the same moment, security burst through the door, grabbing her elbow roughly.

She wriggled and shouted at them, her body thrashing about, not keen on being forcefully escorted out. I just sighed loudly, embarrassed. My tired body collapses down onto the leather couch. The commotion catches the attention of a few crew members, specifically matt.

“What the fuck is going on here?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the silence.

“I still think she’s a porn star.”

TAGLIST: @emluvsuxo @lilcrazy011 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @briefpersonenemy @lma1986 @cheyyyyr @niicolelynn @looney-goose @sister-sebastian @dominuslunae @supersquirrel1996

The next chapters are so not going to make sense. pray for me.

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ratman517 · 1 day ago

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Ok Chat Slay the Princess au/ fanfic idea or whatever because this idea has been on my mind for a while

Also a bit spoilery for one of the endings I guess??

———————————————————————

What if in the ending where the Princess and Quiet just live normal lives, the voices followed but as birds and as they live their lives in the cabin a rumor spreads about there being like a horrible monster and ghost living in the forest (because lets be fr they do NOT look remotely normal 😭😭😭) so one day a person stumbles onto the cabin, lost or investigating up to you, and invites themself inside/invited by Princess only to get absolutely jumpscared by not only the weird ass exotic birds that SPEAK but also the GIANT SHADOW BIRD like just imagine

———————————————————————

Person: Hi um I think I’m lost, do you have a phone or charger I can use?

Princess: Oh of course! Why not sit down for some tea while you’re at it :)

Person: That’d be lovely- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?????

Princess: That’s just my lovely husband!! Say Hi dear!!

Quiet walking out with a little tea set waving at the guest

————————————————————————

Also I imagine the voices do NOT look normal at all, like Hero is a falcon with a bird helmet on, Hunted is this pheasant deer mix (like a hippogriff but bird size), Stubborn is a macaw with donkey ears, etc etc. So just imagine seeing like the Hero out of the corner of your eye

————————————————————————

Person: What was that???

Quiet: Oh, Hero come say Hi we have a guest!!!

Person: Hero????

Watches as a full ass falcon with a helmet quickly appears on Quiet’s shoulder and stares at Person

Hero: Uh Hello! Nice to meet you, sorry if I sound a bit weird it’s been a while since we’ve had a guest!

Person: HUH??????????

#slay the princess #slay the princess au #slay the princess spoilers

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ashthewaterghoul · 2 days ago

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Ash, I need a bit of help. Not for me but for roommate.

She just went through a really bad day and while I’m taking care her in being a shoulder for her to lean on, she could use some literary comfort

I introduced her to Ghost (one of my highest achievements) And her favorite is Copia. If you could please offer some of your time to whip up any short fic of him in any comforting way, I would greatly appreciate it. Doesn’t have to be long, even a paragraph would be fine. I’m not a writer so I don’t got anything to write but hope you can? Maybe the ghouls and Copia doing something wholesome, anything!

Much appreciated! 🙏

Well, first off I would like to offer your roommate many many hugs or whatever her preferred form of affection is, and also I hope that whatever had made her day shit will pass <3

Anyway! Have some very rushed, not properly edited and chaotic Ghoul and Copia movie night fluffiness!

"Ah, my Ghou- oh shit..."

And why would Copia expect to walk into the den with anything less than sheer chaos unraveling before him?

Cirrus and Mountain were cooking, and Aether was meant to be also but had since been put on Dew-wrangling-duty so the Fire Ghoul would stop dipping his fingers in the bolognese. Swiss and Rain had their tongues down each other's throats and were borderline dry humping on the sofa while Cumulus waited for them so act more appropriately. Sunshine and Aurora were playing a very intense game of Mario Kart, and Phantom was participating until they saw Copia walk in.

"Papa!" They said as they ran to give Copia a hug.

"Ey, pipistrello (bat). How are you?" He said, obviously hugging them back and kissing the top of their head.

Phantom pulled away, and started fidgeting with the spade of their tail before they very nervously replied: "Sto bene, grazie. Come stai?" (I'm good, thank you. How are you?)

Copia beamed at hearing them getting more confident with their Italian, and returned: "Sto molto bene ora posso vederti." (I am very well now I can see you.)

Phantom gave a shy smile, another hug, and skipped back over to their game Aurora nudged their shoulder as they took their controller again, while Sunny smiled at them.

Copia went over to the kitchen and put down the bottles of authentic Italian wine he had brought with him.

"We're going to need one each after this." Cirrus said, stirring pots of spaghetti like the world would explode if she stopped.

"You are doing a marvelous job, mia cara aira. (my dear air)" Copia assured.

"C? Can you please help me with this gremlin?" Aether said as he yet-again stopped Dew from scooping up sauce with his tail, he tried this time.

"Of course." Copia smiled, putting an arm around Dew and leading him back to the sofas and chairs, where a grumpy Rain and Swiss were forcibly separated and kept apart by Cumulus herself.

"Ay, I'm a little cold here. Would you light the fireplace, Dewdrop?" Copia asked.

Dew flicked his wrist and set the logs ablaze, promptly trying to dash back for the kitchen but Copia was quicker.

"No, no, no. You're banned from there for a reason." Copia smiled, forcing Dew to sit on the ground, in front of the fire.

"But Papa-"

"No. I will not hear it." Copia said, slowly walking towards Dew and forcing him to shift backwards, and soon enough, Dew was sat in the fire, purring and content.

"Thank Satan for that fire-proof charm you put on all his clothes." Cumulus said, nodding in approval.

Not too long after, with Aether able to help again in the kitchen, their dinner of spaghetti bolagnese and garlic bread was served, alongside Copia's wine pairing which of course was perfect.

All sat and chat for a while with full bellies and drained their glasses, polishing off the bottles too.

They all had been working through films that Siblings had said were "iconic" and "staples for every human child growing up", and tonight was...

Disney Princess Movies

Many protests were heard, and all were voiced by Dew, but soon everyone was in blankets, with snacks and snuggled up. Pyjamas were always part of the dress code for these nights and that made it even cosier, especially with the fire burning too.

Dew was sandwiched between Aether and Swiss on one sofa, while Cumulus had Aurora in her lap next to them. Copia and Phantom had a sofa to themselves, and Mountain and Rain were in the loveseat next to them. Cirrus and Sunshine on a smaller armchair together, yet they made it work.

Through watching several of the films, they discovered that Aurora's voice made for a perfect Snow White, specifically during them Wishing Well song. Many a comparison was made between Dew and Rapunzel, and Copia was deemed Cinderella purely for the princess' mice friends.

"You took your shoe off on stage too, C." Swiss pointed out.

"Si, and I discovered that many of our fans rather enjoy my feet." Copia grimaced slightly. He wouldn't begrudge anyone, he just wasn't into it.

The discussion of how badass Sunny would be with a bow and arrow came up while watching Brave and Cirrus claimed to be Elsa with her Air magic being akin to colder, Winter winds. She also sung full renditions of the Ice Queen's songs to back her claim.

After the movies were done, all were exhausted as it was almost 5am. And while the very busy Frater would complain when the late night impacted the early meeting he had in a couple days, he'd never miss or regret spending time with his Ghouls. Forget their religion, this was sacred to him. They didn't care about species, or blood or Elements, and they were much more than pack. This random group, pulled together by some perfect string of fate or coincidence, was a family.

And Copia adores his family.

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timkontheunsure · 23 hours ago

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I think people too often conflate toxic and abusive relationships.

One of my last exs and I were a bad fit, because of where we were. He was mid trauma of AFAB, and I'd only seen abusive romantic relationships so I put up a lot that I shouldn't. (Every red flag was just a flag to me).

We were desperately clinging to eachother, trying to put up with the hurt to save the other. Because we feel like we were eachothers life jacket.

We were toxic together because our trauma landmines made us hurt eachother without knowing were were doing it.

But we weren't abusive, because that carries intent. We're still extremely close friends, and both of us are still hurt by what we did to eachother because it was fucked.

But abuse is a decision. One that's normally makes the abuser own life easier. Like Stella using Stolas' SA as a funny anecdote, to isolate him from being able to make friends at the party. (Their kid is 17 but Stella still using his dissociation to keep him from a support network 18 years later).

Or her deciding to kill him for he embarrassed her in front of her friends. Because if he's of not use to her, she might as well get some fun from his torture and murder. She can't (won't) give him a divorce, because him getting to walk away and have a good life would be her lossing.

It's not Blitz yelling that he's overwhelmed or not mentioning Striker's first attempt, and it's not Stolas' calling Blitz his "impish little play thing" or kissing BTB.

Because they weren't meaning to hurt eachother with those.

Blitz screaming and kicking in door is very triggering for Stolas. And not telling him someone wants him dead nearly got the job done, but Blitz through Stolas safe because he's immortal.

Stolas' calling Blitz a plaything and other microaggressions make Blitz feels like a fetish and looked down apon.

But Stolas doesn't understand the privilege he has, and is really that thick that he doesn't understand he's being demeaning.

Again still very fucked up things to do, but they didn't sit down and plot 'how can I hurt this person mwahaha'. They genuinely care, and are both trying to cling to the other because their drowning. Drowning people don't try to hurt someone helping them, but you can get pulling under all the same.

Abusers aren't the person who could drag you under by accident, their the fucker that ordered you out of the lifeboat in the first place. And get their fun kicking you back in anytime you start to get a grip on away out of the water.

I've ended up chatting with people about gaslighting Vs real memory issues before. Real memory issues won't all convenient work for their good. And yer gaslighting is done on purpose. It's done to undermine your reality, and shape it to something helpful for the abuser.

You can have all the evidence in the world, that they were being a git; but when you try to point it out it's like trying to make an argument on shifting sand.

And if you do manage to call them on it, don't be surprised that they'll go right back to the version that makes them look best next time it comes up.

This looks like how Stella is framing the arranged marriage and divorce to her kid (trailer). It's gone from neither of them loved eachother to Stolas never loving Stella.

Like how Andrealphus makes Stolas' "cheating" into something that can be used to try and get more money.

Instead of something all 3 of them know Stella doesn't really care about other than it makes her image look bad.

Stolitz can work through this together, becoming something other than toxic; because they do care about and love eachother. And work to not keep hurting eachother moving falwards, it won't change that they have hurt eachother in the past.

But unlike unlike with an abuser they do want the best for eachother other.

I was just scrolling through my dash and found a post that really made me think.

This is a vent type post so it's below the cut if you don't want to read that. Also spoilers for Helluva Boss.

It was criticizing people who like the stolitz ship because "stolas and blitz are abusers" and that immediately made the ship wrong.

First of all, it really made me pause and think about the media literacy of people who watch shows like Helluva or Hazbin but can't look deeper than the character's direct actions. Yes, they're both assholes. But there's far more to it than that. Both of them have been fundamentally changed and affected by the ways they were raised; Blitz is avoidant of love and affection because his dad used him for money and his mom died in a fire he was blamed for. His best friend and love interest shunned him for years over a misunderstanding and everyone he loved turned their backs on him, his own sister included. Whereas Stolas is a prince who was in a very abusive arranged marriage and has this idea of love that comes from operas and movies, a very over exaggerated "shout it from the rooftops" rose-tinted shades type of love that quite frankly is impossible in our world and the show's. His relationship was horrible and he escaped into the worlds of movies and songs, and this gave him an unrealistic view of love.

Second, acting like people can't be shitty in relationships and still love one another is ignorant. Personal vent below.

I have a long term boyfriend; and we recently had a very heated fight because we both wanted things from the other that we couldn't communicate clearly. We both said hurtful things that we didn't mean. It doesn't make us abusive; it makes us human. People aren't perfect.

I feel like this criticism struck a particular nerve for me because I myself relate a lot to Blitz. I was in an abusive relationship, and that kind of thing changes you in ways you can't really describe to other people. I became very codependent and reserved, and after the relationship finally ended I felt even more lost than when I was in it (similar to Blitz fighting for his "relationship" with Stolas back, despite knowing it's unhealthy) because I had become so used to the chaos that calm felt like a threat.

You can say hurtful things and not be an abuser. Stolas is absolutely completely non self aware and he said hurtful things to Blitz because of it. That doesn't make him this horrible caricature of an abuser. He literally doesn't know any other method of love. He doesn't understand how his actions affect Blitz because he's a damn prince. Of course he's going to be out of touch and self-important. It also doesn't make him innocent.

Neither of them are innocent. They were both assholes to one another. But that doesn't make them abusers. Good lord people

#stolitz #helluva boss #tw: abuse #Abuse Vs toxic relationship #Still the biggest Stolitz shipper in the world but think things had to fall apart in full moon/apology tour #so they can get to a place where they're able to be together without accidentally keeping hurting eachother #Toxic as in bad for you or hurts you

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phosphorus-noodles · 5 months ago

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^ cursed with fanfiction thoughts. btw

#sitting in the car daydreaming about an epilogue of my most recent fic #oli gets home and ren and martyn are waiting for him hands on hips like.#‘right then son. we see you blushing and giggling. but you also. you know. died today. and that’s kind of a big deal?#care to explain yourself ??’#and they all sit down and have a little chat #and they scold him like. bestie. i know your deaths aren’t permanent. but you have GOT to be more careful #and Oli’s like ‘yeahyeahyeah but guess WHAT’ all excited and grinning #and proceeds to tell them how Joel had kissed him. on the cheek but he had KISSED him!! after all those years of wishing and hoping !!!#and they’re happy for him bc they’ve had chats like this many times and YAYY it happened!#but also. cmon man. maybe work on your flying a little bit in the meantime.#and then later ren and martyn are talking in their room like. ‘so we don’t want his heart broken.’ ‘no we don’t.’#bc oli gets sooo happy… but surely it won’t end well. right?#like. ‘well… at least his heart won’t be broken because of joel.’#they’re in love……..#but it’s complicated 😔💔#im thinking. a lot of thoughts about them. anyways #pho.posts #butterflies.and.wind.chimes

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triglycercule · 2 days ago

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sometimes i like to think that horror comes to dust's room late at night just to talk to phantom papyrus. no he doesn't wanna talk to dust. horror probably doesn't even CARE if dust's awake at the asscrack of dawn or rambling off to the hallucination too loudly this late at night because he just wants to talk to phantom papyrus

horror's not delusional enough to believe that phantom paps is actually real and his own papyrus like dust does but sometimes he really wants to,,,, so just for these short moments between them he wants to pretend that the hallucination is his papyrus. that he gets to talk to his own brother before everything went to shit and before he ruined his brother's life. yeah sure phantom paps kinda says some crazy stuff that horror's papyrus never would back then but so what?? dust's papyrus is the closest thing he's got and at least he doesn't have to deal with the guilt at even LOOKING at his brother's face (the sunken eyesockets,,,, the uneven teeth,,,,, yeah no) because there's nothing there. horror doesn't have to do anything but keep his back turned to dust and just talk to papyrus through him

they both keep their backs turned to eachother when they do this because neither of them can stand looking at eachother. dust especially because hearing horror sound so much like how he was before. horror sounds so lighthearted and relaxed and just,,,,, normal that it almost reminds dust of himself. maybe if he closed his eyes and tuned out his own voice he could just imagine the moment being a conversation between himself and paps back then before he had to kill him over and over. dust doesn't want to have to look back and see horror's mutilated skull and his permanently replaced eye. he doesn't want the fake scenario he's choosing to indulge in right now to be broken

and then i think they talk like that for a long time; because horror has a lot to say to paps about himself and what he regrets and dust has a lot of reminiscing to do on the good old days before he lost himself :3

#this one is a bit more SERIOUS than i expected.... no funny little triglycercule rambling today for some reason.......#i do really like this idea though. it seems like one of the only ways that horrordust would bond in a more canonical sense #no they don't fall asleep in bed with eachother after this. in fact horror doesn't even say BYE when he leaves #they just move on with their lives afterwards and pretend none of it happened #and when they need it most then they can drop their guards ever so slightly at 2:30 in the morning through a fake middleman #horror doesn't like being this vulnerable around dust but he knows DAMN well the other won't tell #dust has no reason to say a thing about their midnight chats. maybe he just doesn't like being vulnerable at all #and it's true that dust wouldnt tell anyone because tbh he gets to ask horror things he'd ask himself #maybe he'd lie a bit here and there about what paps said so he can ask something like do you regret it after all this time #just to see if horror feels the same way that he does even though they have different circumstances #to see if the most sans-like in his eyes of the 2(3) of them can understand what he feels and understands how it feels #horror regrets it too but he's here and he did what he did. dust almost likes that he has someone to relate to him tbh #sometimes he needs to be reminded that he should regret everything he did especially when he feels manic or just apathetic #he probably needs the reality check and if horror isn't the most grounded out of the 3 i dont know WHO is (low bar but he is arguably is)#ok time to turn this into the mtt! killer SO bashes them for these little midnight rendezvous #makes SO many remarks about how theyre really pathetic for practically roleplaying a conversation between sans and papyrus #SO many jokes about what the two probably get up to in there. so many jokes about how this is some weird kink probably #but in the end despite all the shit talking killer's never been part of one of these conversations #in fact he doesn't even go NEAR dust's room late at night due to this #he just cant he doesn't want to. because if he hears horror's voice being so lighthearted and joking #and dust saying words that sound so similar to what papyrus would say (maybe he's even imitating his voice)#it would upset him a LOT. or maybe not? either way killer avoids that area like the plague when horrordust chat #maybe he'd sit down by the outside of the door when he's FEELING. killer won't let himself believe in the delusion dust and horror have mad #but he can't stay for too long because then dust and horror start talking about regrets and their wrongdoings and now he can't listen any #but either way i trio-fied it and that's all that matters!!! this might actually be one of my FAVORITE ideas i've ever cone up with :333 #killer sans #horror sans #dust sans #murder time trio #tricule hc

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ratatatastic · 1 month ago

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scare the hoes more and keep yapping about ekky (& others) getting used to maffhew, it delights me. and say even more about how sasha handles this feral and sweet omega that gets dropped into his orbit. smth smth “feels like i’ve known him 10 years” or whatever vows sasha recited to the press, cameras, and god

apparently we are taking more tumblr user ratatatastic abo yap thoughts for 500 may god hear our screams up wherever he is. big man in the sky you fuckin owe me one.

i think theres so much in particular to say in concerns of 1619 and how quickly they gelled irl but even more so in an abo au

ive always enjoyed when people assign matthew stronger scents that take getting used to if you don't like it already and i know ive read a fic where his scent notes did skew towards stronger cinnamon foods/drinks

anyways on that note it wouldnt surprise me that sasha takes so easy to this spicy little omega.

Like of course he does, he smells like the pastries he used to eat back at home, the pastries he eats now because he's found an established Finnish bakery down here that makes them homemade every morning, the bakery he likes to frequent with the other Finns when he can.

Is it ever a wonder that the cute omega that sent him such a terribly sweet text when the trade news broke out (you know, after the initial excitement worn off because Sasha does chuckle at memory of the brash "Fucking, right!" that pinged on his phone the very first time from an unknown number) smells like... home... No matter all the rumours that have swirled around Matthew, the rumours Sasha has personally experienced himself playing against him...he smells nostalgic. Like Sasha could be at home right now—you know, home home—lounging outside his cottage with tea and pastries on the little table that he's set out. The warm cinnamon that wafts from the typically sterile room they've assigned for pressers smells divine, for lack of a better word. It smells indulgent. Because Sasha can't have those homely pastries all the time, what, with his training regiment.

It's why he doesn't quite believe it that Matthew's the one that's the centre of it all. He's absolutely convinced he's hallucinating because the season is about to start and he's had to cut back on all his favourite sweets as much as it pains him to but for the betterment of the team? He'd do anything. And yet despite the way he rubs at his nose to at least try to clear it, he smells that cinnamon. That cinnamon that's definitely coming from new omega they traded over who's laughing so obnoxiously at the lectern they have set up that if his scent didn't catch your attention, his loud mannerisms certainly did. His voice is practically bouncing off the walls in big loud echoes that should hurt Sasha’s ears. Emphasis on should. As it is he finds his heart melting more than it should instead.

It's been quite a long time since someone's scent has moved him this much. All the people that have, have been in his life for so long he's forgotten what it's like to feel instant scent compatibility. His nostrils are flaring and he's trying his best not to open his mouth to huff in big gulps of it because it's rather impolite to be so obviously scenting the new guy. It could be misconstrued as Sasha taking offence to the new presence in the room.

Some part of his brain is still trying to catch up to the idea that Matthew even smells at all because the first time he met him (down here for some joint offseason ice-time) he didn't particularly smell like much, if at all really. Whether it's because he put on blockers to not intrude on pack territory until he smelled more like them, or he was still on suppressants even in the summer, Sasha wasn't sure and he definitely wasn't going to ask about it.

Known him for 10 years? He feels like he's known him his whole life. But 10's a safe number, 10's a number that won't scare off this new omega, right? 10's a number that conveys "As Captain I want this to work out, I'm opening up my pack for you, I won't shun you, you're welcome here," and not "If I stick my nose in your neck right now to scent you, they're gonna have to forcibly evict me from the new home I've found in you, and it's not gonna be a pretty outcome."

It's also why he's a little nervous when Media Day is over because despite how much it dragged along in years past it practically blitzed by and now Sasha has to—

You know, properly scent the new addition. Give them the purring acceptance of their Pack leader's scent to carry with them. And it's nothing big, it's just some chaste wrist rubbing... something subtle and not too overwhelming for everyone: the pack, and the newcomer alike. It's not like Sasha is going to mouth at Matthew's neck glands. He doesn't think he can even handle that right now but that's a problem for future Sasha—for when Matthew is really part of the pack and not like a goldfish in a plastic bag being dunked into an aquarium to get used to the water temperature. He just has to rub his wrist against his, it's like basic Alpha etiquette. It'll be fine, mostly. He hopes.

And it's as anticlimactic as he thought it'd be: gentle reintroductions and reignited chatter of excitement about the new season that's about to start... maybe just with the new lingering scent of sweet and spice in the background as if someone lit up a candle without Sasha even noticing it. It's a struggle to keep his eyes from closing from how heavy they feel, from how relaxed he feels in the presence of this new omega he knows has pissed him off on several occasions as composed as he was about it.

Matthew presents his wrist in a flourish successfully managing to divert his attention back to what they're supposed to be doing all alone like this in the dressing room like this, "I'm sure you've been dying to do this huh, Cap?"

Sweat starts to break out at the back of his neck. He knows? Sasha doesn't think he's been sending off any signals that could've hinted otherwise but Sasha admits that he's well out of practise, he hasn't had to reign in his scent this much in such a long time, and maybe Matthew picked up his weird fixation—

Matthew waggles his eyebrows for extra effect an offbeat later when the joke doesn't seem to land the way he wanted it to.

Oh, thank Christ, he's just teasing him. It's a joke. He doesn't actually mean it in the way Sasha thought he meant.

"Yes. Yes, I have," Sasha chuckles in relief, shaking his head at Matthew's attempt to lighten the mood.

"10 years, or so I've heard, bud."

"You heard? Uh, listened to the..." he trails off.

"Kinda hard not to when the setup made it sound like you were in the middle of the Earth, my guy. I don't think my ears are ever gonna recover from that."

"It's the first day for everyone," Sasha lightly chastises, not particularly aggrieved at all but wanting to keep up the banter to stall for time, so he can prepare himself. Quite honestly he feels like travelled back in time to the young anxious Alpha he was breaking out into the league for the first time.

"Be gentle, I bruise easily."

"Right, gentle. I'll treat you better than my clothes on the delicate cycle."

"Is that supposed to be a line?" Matthew says in glee, his voice pitching into incredulity.

"Line like fishing?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I'm talking about! You've been in this country long enough to pick up on that!"

"Yes, yes, that."

Matthew shoves at his shoulder playfully. "Just go on and do the thing already."

"Doing the thing."

Matthew snorts but his wrist is limp in Sasha’s hold. And as much as it was a dumb joke he does feel delicate between his fingers like that. So delicate that when he rubs his own wrist against his—to transfer over their pack scent—he feels like he's going to break it if he holds onto it for too long. It's why he drops it as quick as he took it, hands scrambling to his sides in an effort to remain polite but also to get a handle on himself so his pheromones don't go haywire with the new stimulus. It's a bit of a losing battle because he knows his scent just. But he can play it off as the excitement of an Alpha being able to claim another member to his pack, it's a possessive kind of thing.

"Well, see you around! Call it a hunch but I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other." And the joke wasn't funny the first time, truly the equivalent of leaning on the office fax machine and going "You come here often?" to your coworkers who just want to get their work done—and just as sleazy too with the greasy grin Matthew has permanently stuck to his face but Sasha still laughs like he did the first time he heard it.

And it's only now that Matthew is gone that Sasha realises the room smells strongly of cinnamon, so potent that anyone with a working nose would be able to tell that. Like Matthew was doing his best to ease Sasha’s obvious nerves when Sasha should've been the one to calm the omega who's been uprooted from their own pack and thrown into a completely new environment, himself.

"Jesus, it reeks in here. Smells like cinnamon," Aaron wrinkles his nose, wandering back in after his own media duties were done, finding Sasha all alone in the locker rooms.

"It does?" Like he can't tell the room smells like the equivalent of someone knocking over a Yankee Candle into an open fire.

"Yeah, like an awful lot." Aaron scrunching up his nose, trying to fight off an incoming sneeze. "It's strong," he says without thinking, swallows before his eyes shift over to Sasha and then to the floor, "Not bad just... strong..." The I can get used to it is left unspoken between them.

"I like it," Sasha admits because if Aaron is confessing to things without thinking then he might as well too. They've known each other long enough.

"I can tell." Aaron snorts, "You reek too."

Sasha lets out a questioning little noise, tilts his head to the side as he silently urges Aaron to continue.

"You have no idea what cinnamon and cardamom smell like together, do you? I feel like I walked into a bakery when I should be at the gym right now."

"Is that bad?"

"For you? No, of course not," Aaron's eyes soften, and while his scent wasn't anywhere close to abrasive, it does lighten up just a tad bit in the presence of his pack Alpha. "For me? I'd rather dunk my head in a bucket of coffee beans." A bit of an exaggeration on Aaron's part but the wry grin he has on really adds to the fact he's just joking—just a little, maybe there's some truth hidden in there. He knows how Aaron is, the way he tries to downplay anytime he bristles about something. Peace and vibes, and all that.

So Sasha can joke as well, "Forsy's stall is over there," and motions his head towards it across the room.

"Oh, hilarious."

"If I was funny I would say jock."

"You know, what? I think I will hit the gym today, thanks for reminding me."

"Mmm, anytime." And when Aaron's half out the door he adds, "Ask the staff where they put the jerseys we used today!"

"I'm going! To the gym!" he echoes back, not bothering to turn around as he shuffles down the hall in a hurry, and decidedly not going in the direction of the gym. It's not surprising when he hears chatter pick up and shoes scuffing briskly into the direction of the laundry rooms.

#ask #instead of actually writing the things i wanted to get done i did this instead thanks guys #not to “controversially new hot younger girlfriend” maffhew but im gonna #timeline here doesnt make sense like quote wise so like you know #chat... matthew was not joking when he said well be seeing more of each other #he was fully intending to sit on that knot the first time he saw sasha #sasha is just dumb #god can you just imagine the ways in which maffhew would drive this nice polite alpha absolutely insane #can you imagine the way sasha accidently brushes his hand across the back of his neck because hes trying to wrap an arm around his shoulder #in camaraderie and sasha is so apologetic about it because dynamic classes in finland are intense and hes so remorseful about it #and then in the midst of all that maffhew just turns into this little purr machine and sasha is like oh i think i touched a button i should #not have touched at all oh god oh fuck #and maffhews like mmm? whyd you stop #pan to sasha silently freaking out #not to say sasha doesnt enjoy scruffing his omegas because they love it but he hasnt met one who enjoys it as much as maffhew does #and it kinda fucks him up #also speaking to ekky getting used to maffhews scent like oh boy i can see sooooo many ways that can go down like maffhew is respectful #of ekkys boundaries but also at some point ekky has had enough time to mope and for lack of a better word he does need to grow up #which is why maffhew starts off subtly you know standing on the dman side of the lockers for a few minutes. chatting up the guys over there #before ekky walks in you know leave a ghost of his scent around. its not strong and its not offensive but it certainly is there #eventually he just full on starts chucking his dirty socks at ekky after games #going oops sorry missed the bin didnt mean to snipe you (he absolutely did. he gets extra points if he hits ekkys face!)#sometimes a stray jersey too. if he really wants to make ekky mad he will just slingshot his biohazard-in-training-jock over.#i also think when ekky gets the yips when he starts pacing a little harder than usual when his chuckles turn a little too nervous #maffhew has enough and just like a worried hen of a men just manhandles ekky around in his arms and shoves at him till he puts his nose #in his neck and ekkys arguing the whole time like this isnt necessary im fine-#and matthews like right im sure thats why your teeth are chattering worse than a fucking woodchipper eh?#ekky cant really reply to that and maffhew tells him to just shut up and start sniffing #and it does help and he hates that he admits maffhew was right that he just needed to be clucked over by another omega #opening yapdoras box the lot of you. utterly awful. I HAVE THINGS TO DOOOOOOOOOOOO

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