#both for her and other creators who I admire

[midnight-rice]

Ephemerality, creativity, and completion

My sleep schedule is fucked and my brain is fried and I can't sleep so naturally I decided to go through all some of the files backed up in my Google Drive--- mainly my own artwork, old and new, some of my writing WIPs, and snippets of creative projects from fans and professionals alike that I had saved as inspirations. It was really refreshing to look back on the techniques and the flaws and the ideas in each of them, as well as my personal growth and the development of my interests. But so much of my work in there hasn't been shared because it's incomplete, which is something that haunts me quite a lot sometimes and as I was thinking about it and what I want from life I think I reached a new point in thinking. Apologies if I sound angsty or self-absorbed, I'm just liveblogging my musings for my own preservation purposes:

My inability to finish stuff is something that developed later in my life, starting around maybe late high school and becoming more noticable in my early twenties (although technically I'm still in my early twenties 😅). I suspect the cause is related to a mental disorder, probably ADHD though I'm not sure I'll ever get an official diagnosis, since the symptoms do sound similar to descriptions of executive dysfunction: almost everything I make has an invisible ticking clock on it, the length of which can vary wildly, but once that timer runs out the odds of completion drop abysmally low, no matter how much I care about the creation/task or how important it is. I've found that there are ways to prolong this deadline sometimes and the effectiveness of those methods can vary too. Sometimes it's better to take frequent breaks to avoid burnout, and other times it's better to push through while the intrinsic inspiration is high. Sometimes it's better to have deadlines to establish clear goals, and sometimes it's better to dismiss the time limitations because they can cause anxiety and hopelessness. Sometimes it's better to share what I'm working on in order to reignite interest by vicariously experiencing the idea with new eyes, and sometimes it's better to keep it to myself so that my brain doesn't conflate the act of sharing with the act of finishing.

And I know that things don't have to be complete in order to be shared, or at least I try to remind myself of that. My perfectionism makes me want to have it be *done* in its best currently possible form when shared, and tbh social media often reinforces that idea to an extent since WIPs tend to get way less attention than finished things but that's not entirely my point rn. I've more or less accepted that some things are made to matter in the moment, that I made them when I needed to and that it's okay to move on to other things without finishing. But presenting incomplete works can still feel like almost a betrayal as much as hoarding them does because it opens up possible miscommunication or misinterpretation--- if I had just found the right words or drawn the right details THEN the audience would get it.

And I think for me personally that idea of "getting it" is really important to me. I'm naturally more shy and reserved (or maybe it's not natural and was more of a coping mechanism to fit in but I'm not going there today lol) and I struggle to find the right words a lot in speech but the things I make manage to say a lot more about me than I can verbalize. A lot of my relationships are more surface-level like acquaintances and coworkers which is fine, it's unrealistic and probably unhealthy to be deeply intimate with everyone you know. But even some of my closer ones like my family still feel shallow at times or disconnected. I don't mean to sound edgy or that I'm "misunderstood," but I worry sometimes that if I got hit by a truck tomorrow they'd put the wrong words on my tombstone and never know about a Google Drive full of incomprehensible creative works that nevertheless mattered so much to me.

Oh my god the irony... I'm so tired I cant even finish this post and now it looks like I'm just having an anxiety spiral... f

[kittyfrisk9]

IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon/2

Part 1(?)

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main.

---

Peace is, without a doubt, a precious commodity.

That was the conclusion Jason came to after a long moment of reflection, observing his cosmic boy: the dream demon who had saved him from that endless nightmare.

They were both in a field covered with flowers in shades of blue, purple and pink, under a starry sky where the stars seemed to shine with an unusual intensity. The same scenario as the last twenty times.

Yes, they had seen each other again. After Jason refused to forget that moment, the demon simply visited him again the next night, without even bothering to hide.

They didn't do much, they just played, had fun and enjoyed sweet moments together, like now, when the demon came up with the peculiar idea of ​​making flower crowns.

However, despite being the one who had the idea, he was the last to finish his crown. Jason found it sincerely adorable how the demon frowned, frustrated at not being able to tie a knot. Her expression was so cute that Jason couldn't help but smile. Sure, he could have helped her, but that would have robbed him of those precious minutes of admiration for him.

He didn't know how much time passed, he just watched and pondered. After all, time in this place was strange.

"I'm done!" Void exclaimed, proudly raising his crown. "Isn't it pretty?"

Jason replied with a simple "Yes." However, he wasn't looking at the flower crown, but at the creator of it. Although Void didn't seem to notice that detail.

"Thank you. It's the same design that Sa-Saiph showed me!" He commented, satisfied.

There it was again. Those little slips of information that Jason had noticed in the multiple conversations they'd had. Jason chuckled; Void wasn't very good at hiding data. He mentally noted it down in the special folder he'd created in his head for him anyway.

Because he'd be a liar if he said he didn't try to find out more about that demon with the information he'd inadvertently given him. Though, to be honest, he didn't try very hard either.

After all, he could see that Void was a nice guy. (And maybe, just maybe, Jason had a little crush on him.)

"One of your friends?" Jason asked curiously.

"Yeah, my best friend," Void replied. "She's a huge plant fanatic. I suspect she's on the level of Poison Ivy."

"Eh, it would be a problem to have another plant invasion," Jason commented, remembering the woman's extremist past. How many times had she invaded the city with her plants?

"Oh no, no, it only happened once, and she was being forced to do it," the demon suddenly stated, as if trying to quickly correct the impression he had given.

"Your friend invaded a city with plants?" Jason asked, incredulous.

"Just once," Void emphasized, as if that made it any better.

What the hell? How had that not reached the ears of the Justice League? Forget it, he decided not to ask. Some things were better left unsaid.

He decided to change the subject instead.

Unintentionally, his vision focused on the hands holding the crown, and then on her arms. The areas on his arms were decorated with a design that reminded Jason of a starry sky, filled with tiny, glowing stars and nebulas against a dark background. It was so beautiful, as if Void's arms were an extension of outer space.

As he looked closer, he realized that some other parts of his body also shared that surreal effect of a universe filled with stars. There were sparkles of light on his skin that seemed to dance with every movement, creating an ethereal and captivating image.

"Your skin… is amazing," Jason said, without thinking. "You look like you're made of stars."

Void smiled, a little embarrassed. "Thanks. I guess it's just part of my nature. I've always loved outer space."

Jason was silent for a moment, enjoying the revelation. "Really? Why?" He asked, genuinely curious to know more.

Void looked at his hands fondly. "I think it's partly because of my older sister. When I was little, she was… gone for a while. It was only a short time, but I was lonely. Then, on a call, she told me that I wasn't alone, that the stars were keeping me company. She said that every point in the sky was a friend watching me." Void then turned his gaze to Jason. "It's a silly story, right?"

Jason shook his head. "No. It's cute." Then, blushing, he added, "I have things I like too for certain reasons."

Void looked at him with interest. "Really? I'd love to hear about it."

However, Jason looked away, visibly embarrassed. "No."

The answer made Void's expression immediately deflate. "Oh, ancients… Why not? Tell me, tell me, tell me!" He exclaimed as he excitedly threw himself at Jason, eager to discover his secrets.

Jason laughed. "Still a no." Then he quickly dodged Void, jumping up and running to avoid being caught. Void, amused and exasperated, chased after him, insisting that he deserved to know.

"Come on! It's not fair!" Void shouted with laughter as he ran after Jason.

Fresh air, laughter, and the feeling of freedom filled the field of flowers. Yes, this was the peace Jason so desperately needed.

…

As dawn came, Jason woke up. His bed was really comfortable, and the little meetings with his sleep demon were truly relaxing. Jason had certainly had a satisfying month.

Stretching out on his bed, Jason wondered what he should have for breakfast, until he saw him.

He immediately sat up cursing the person creepily standing in the corner of the room: the demon brat, still in Robin's costume and staring at him. "Shit, Damian! What are you doing standing there?"

Damian completely ignored his question and, in a serious tone, asked, "Todd, do you do drugs?"

"What?" Jason frowned.

"You laughed a lot in your dreams," his younger brother said, his expression a mix of curiosity and disdain.

Jason looked at him in disbelief. Had this kid been spying on him all night while he slept?

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

One of Damian's hypotheses is that his brother uses drugs. As for Jazz, she had an accident in her parents' basement that injured her arm, so she had to stay in the hospital for a while. Danny felt super lonely without his older sister.

Comment that nobody cares about: I wasn't planning on continuing with this, I know it's poorly written, but inspiration came when I saw this (honestly it's a very weird way to get inspiration)

[bossbtch1]

Against All Odds

The GIF is not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.

Summary : You recently joined the Avengers, and everyone has accepted you except for Bucky. Now, the challenge lies in proving him wrong, but can you succeed changing his mind and earn his trust? Or do you have to do more to earn it? (geez, I’m suck at this)

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)

TW: SMUT, 18+, strong language, enemies-to-lovers-ish, oral (m receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation (slut calling), slight choking, orgasm denial

Word Count: Around 10k (I know it's a bit long, I got carried away. Sorry) → smut is like 4k hehe

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing a story, and it’s a smut one at that. English isn't my first language, so apologies for any mistakes or bad grammar. I hope you still enjoy the story!

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

These are the aesthetic for part 1 (solely for visual representation of what going to happen on the story, this meant no representation for body type or ethnicity)

You've always been a dependable agent ever since you were young, someone who could handle the toughest missions without letting your emotions get in the way. Nick Fury spotted your potential when you were just a kid, taking you under his wing. It was his belief in you that kept you going, and it all led to the thrilling moment when he thought it was time for you to join the Avengers. After all those years of hard work, it felt like a dream come true.

Then came your first day with the team. You'd just joined, and they wanted to see how good you were in a fight. You almost beat Natasha in a really intense battle, proving to everyone that you totally belonged with the Avengers. Your determination to show your worth never wavered. But there was this one guy, Bucky Barnes, who just couldn't seem to trust you no matter what.

On your first day with the Avengers, the training room buzzed with anticipation as you faced off against Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow. It was a test of your combat skills, a way to see if you had what it took to be part of Earth's mightiest heroes. The desire to become one of them, although it might sound cliché and cringey, burned within you.

The Avengers, including Nick Fury, Captain America, Iron Man, Winter Soldier, Hawkeye and Thor, watched from up above, all curious and eager to see how you'd do. Their faces showed they were rooting for you.

However, as you glanced upward to catch your breath, your eyes locked onto Bucky Barnes. He stood there, solitary and stern, arms crossed over his chest. His intense gaze bore into you, but unlike the other Avengers, his expression was far from encouraging. There was a deep skepticism in his eyes, a doubt that seemed unshakable, and it cast a shadow over your determination to prove yourself to the team.

Natasha, dressed in her familiar black outfit, gave you a serious look that made you stop staring up. When she spoke, you turned your attention to her. "Think you've got this, newbie?" she teased, a touch of amusement in her voice.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. This was your moment to prove yourself, and there was no turning back. The weight of your new Avengers uniform felt both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. "I'm ready, Natasha.", you responded with determination. You weren't going to back down now.

Natasha grinned. "We'll see about that."

The two of you circled each other, and then, without warning, Natasha lunged at you with lightning speed. Her attack was quick and precise, but you were able to block it, thanks to your training. As the two of you sparred, the crowd cheered and shouted their support. It was a battle of wits and willpower, and neither of you was willing to give up.

"You're good," Natasha admitted, her voice dripping with genuine admiration. "But let's see how you handle this." With a fluid motion, she unleashed a series of acrobatic moves, flipping and twisting through the air before landing gracefully behind you.

You spun around to face her, sweat beading on your forehead. "Impressive, but I'm not done yet."

The fight continued, and you pushed yourself to keep up with Natasha's relentless assault. Your training and instincts kicked in, and you began to hold your own. It was a back-and-forth battle, each of you landing hits and dodging the other's attacks.

But Natasha was more experienced than you, and eventually, she managed to overpower you. She had you pinned to the ground, her face inches away from yours. You struggled against her grip, but she held you firmly in place. "Had enough?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gritting your teeth, you mustered all the determination you had left. "Not a chance," you replied, refusing to admit defeat.

The crowd went wild as Natasha delivered the final blow, knocking you out. She stood there, victorious, a small smile playing on her lips acknowledging your impressive performance. "Good fight," she said, extending a hand to help you up.

You accepted her hand, "Thanks, Natasha. You're incredible."

The room erupted in applause, and everyone from the observation deck descended to congratulate you. Fury, wearing a proud smile, gave you a warm hug. "Well done, Y/N. You're officially part of the team," he declared, his words filled with pride. He whispered, "I'm proud of you, Y/N," and it meant the world to you.

But amid the celebration with your new teammates, there was one person who didn't seem as thrilled. James "Bucky" Barnes, the Winter Soldier, stood in a quiet corner of the room, his expression inscrutable.

You had felt his presence throughout the entire match, his intense gaze sending shivers down your spine. Bucky's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, then he turned and left the room, leaving you feeling more confused than ever.

Bucky went out of his way to undermine your confidence, pushing you to the brink of quitting time and time again. His words still fresh in your mind. "I don't think you're cut out for this, kid. This isn't a game. It's a matter of life and death. You’re not ready for this."

It hurt. You didn't understand why he was so determined to bring you down. What had you done to make him dislike you so much? Despite Bucky's relentless doubts, you refused to back down. You were determined to earn his respect, just as you had with the rest of the team.

So, every day, you trained harder, pushed yourself further, and proved your worth on every mission. Your hope was that one day, Bucky would finally see you for the capable agent you truly were and put his doubts to rest once and for all.

One day, as you were making your way to the gym, the sound of voices caught your attention. It was Bucky and Steve, engaged in a hushed conversation that seemed to revolve around you. Curiosity piqued, you tried to maintain a discreet distance, keen on hearing what they were saying. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Buck, I think you're being too hard on her. She's a good fighter and she's eager to learn," Steve argued.

Bucky's skepticism remained unshaken. "I'm just trying to watch out for the team. She's a liability, not ready for this kind of responsibility."

Steve being the optimist pushed back gently, his support for you evident in his tone. "I think you're the only one who feels that way."

Bucky's voice grew firmer as he explained his perspective. "She's only here 'cause Nick Fury vouched for her. There are others who deserve this chance more. I could name a couple who'd fit better on this team than her."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, casting doubt on your worthiness. It was difficult to hear that the person you looked up to and wanted to prove yourself to was actually against you, even though Bucky's argument was valid.

You couldn't help but question if your acceptance into the Avengers was indeed solely because of Fury. You had always believed that your spot on the Avengers was earned through your skills and dedication. Bucky's doubts made you second-guess if you had truly earned your place.

"Buck, there's more to it than that," Steve replied, his voice steady. "Just be patient with her."

Unable to endure the conversation any longer, your heart felt heavy as you turned away, doing your best to conceal the hurt that washed over your face. With resolve, you changed your course and headed towards the field track, hoping a run would help clear your mind.

Later, as the sun set on the horizon, you were still out running laps. Your thoughts were racing, and your body was aching, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

"You're gonna wear yourself out if you keep pushing like that."

You jumped, startled by the sudden voice. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Bucky standing a few feet away, his arms crossed.

Caught off guard, you tried to put on a brave face. "I'm okay," you lied, attempting to hide the pain that was clearly etched on your face. Stopping abruptly had caused your feet to throb with discomfort.

Bucky, however, wasn't buying your façade. He narrowed his eyes, his concern deepening. "You're not. You're hurt."

In response, you shook your head stubbornly, your pride urging you to push through the pain. "I'll manage," you insisted, even though every step sent a sharp twinge through your feet.

Bucky's gaze remained sharp and unwavering. "You're not fooling anyone with that."

Deep down, you knew he was right. The pain was becoming harder to ignore, and your stubbornness could only take you so far. But in that moment, you weren't quite ready to admit defeat or show weakness, especially not to someone like Bucky.

Bucky took a step closer, his expression resolute. "Come on, we're heading inside," he stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I'm okay, I can-." You began to protest, but he interrupted you firmly, "Y/N, enough. This is an order. You're only making my job more difficult by trying to tough it out. Let's go, and I don't want to hear another word from you."

Reluctantly, you fell silent and went along with Bucky, allowing him to guide you back to the facility. As you walked, you couldn't help but mull over his earlier words, "You're making my job harder by trying to tough it out." It left you wondering why he cared or felt responsible for you, especially when you believed he disliked you.

Once inside, Bucky seated you and fetched a glass of water. Taking a sip, you felt a wave of relief as it helped ease some of your fatigue. Then, without uttering a word, Bucky briefly stepped away, returning in less than a minute with bandages and medicine in hand.

Your curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn't resist asking, "What's all that for?" Your eyes were drawn to the medical supplies.

"Take off your shoes and socks," Bucky directed, his tone brooking no dissent.

"I don't think I need..." You began to protest, but a quick glance at Bucky's determined face made it clear that there was no room for discussion.

Letting out a sigh, you gave in and removed your shoes and socks. What you saw shocked you: your feet were in a terrible state, bleeding and covered with painful blisters, a clear result of your overly enthusiastic run.

You heard Bucky mutter a curse under his breath as he knelt down in front of you. "Bucky, seriously, I can handle it," you tried to protest, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Just stay put and let me take care of this." His voice was firm, and he got to work tending to your battered feet. Gently, he placed your feet on his lap, starting to clean the cuts on your soles. You winced slightly as the sting of the alcohol met the open wounds.

While he busied himself tending to your injuries, you found your gaze drifting to him. Bucky was undeniably handsome and hot, you couldn't help but appreciate his appearance. As your eyes met his, he suddenly looked up at you.

"Got something on your mind?" he asked, his expression as enigmatic as ever.

You blinked, realizing that you'd been staring. Heat crept into your cheeks as you stammered, "I, uh, have an issue with my shoes." You finally managed to say, though it wasn't exactly the eloquent response you'd hoped for.

Bucky, his expression unamused, retorted, "Well, that's clear." After he finished bandaging your wounds, he added, "But there's more to it than just your shoes."

"You can't be out here, pushing yourself so hard if you're going to injure yourself. This isn't a game. You must take care of yourself. You can't expect to get the full experience if you're going to hurt yourself." His words were harsh, but they were true.

"I know," you admitted with a sigh, guilt gnawing at you. "I just got caught up and lost track of time. It's not that bad."

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Not that bad?" He challenged you. "Then stand up. Let's see how not that bad it really is."

Your cheeks burned. You could already feel the ache in your legs and the throbbing pain in your feet. But you refused to show any weakness. Not now. Not in front of him.

"Fine." With a determined look, you pushed yourself up from the chair, wincing as you put weight on your injured soles. Your feet stung, and your muscles were sore, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through it.

Bucky couldn't help but scoff, clearly frustrated with your stubbornness and tendency to challenge him.  "You want to be part of this team, right?"

You nodded, your determination unwavering despite the discomfort. "Yeah, I do.”

"Then you need to stop being reckless and start acting like an Avenger. We can't afford to have someone on our team who's too stubborn to admit when they're injured. It's only gonna make things worse." he said firmly, taking a step closer to you. "Maybe you could start by, I don't know, following orders and not talking back every chance you get."

The harshness in his words took you by surprise, but they also cut deep. Because you knew he was right.

With that he left the room, leaving you behind to wallow in shame. You knew he was right. But it hurt, especially coming from him.

Weeks later, you received the news that you'd be joining the team on your very first mission. The excitement bubbled up inside you as you geared up for the assignment. But as the mission unfolded, things took a turn for the worse.

You spotted a group of enemies heading for a crowded area and impulsively decided to engage them without waiting for the team's signal or support. Your intentions were to protect the civilians, but your recklessness got the best of you. Your impulsive move led to a chaotic firefight, and in the midst of the chaos, a civilian stumbled into the line of fire, narrowly escaping harm.

Bucky, who had been keeping an eye on you, witnessed the entire sequence of events unfold. His anger and frustration boiled over as he watched you put not only yourself but also innocent bystanders in danger.

Inside the quinjet, as the mission concluded, he couldn't contain his fury any longer. "What the fuck was that, Y/N?!" he erupted, his voice echoing in the confined space.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame and regret.

"Sorry isn't good enough!" Bucky snapped, his intense gaze burning into you. You couldn't bear to meet his eyes, and instead, you cast your gaze downward, your hands trembling with the weight of your mistake.

"If you're gonna keep making mistakes like that, then maybe you don't belong on this team. You could've gotten someone killed back there." His words stung, but he was right.

Natasha stepped in to defend you, "Bucky, it was an accident, and it was her first mission. Everyone makes mistake.”

Bucky didn't back down. "Yeah, and accidents can cost lives, Nat. She need to be more careful," he retorted, glaring back at you. "You can't afford to be an idiot like that out there. What the fuck is wrong with you?" He yelled, his anger getting the best of him.

Clint said, "Hey! Enough. She's done enough of a beating already, I know she can do better next time."

"There might not be a next time," Bucky grumbled.

Confusion and worry welled up inside you. 'What do you mean by that?' you wondered silently, unable to find your voice.

Bucky's frustration boiled over as he remarked, "Maybe she should think twice about putting others at risk if she can't handle it."

You turned your gaze away, determined not to let the tears fall. Tony took charge of the situation, his voice steady and reassuring. "Alright, that's enough," Tony declared firmly. "We're all on edge right now after what happened. We all know she can do better, and we'll address it later. For now, let's just concentrate on getting back home."

The rest of the ride was filled with tension, Bucky's glare never leaving you as you tried your best to avoid his gaze.

Wanda noticed your discomfort and moved over to sit next to you. She placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and asked gently, "How are you holding up?"

You appreciated Wanda's concern and gave her a small, grateful smile. "I'll be okay," you replied softly. "Just need some time to process everything. I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed."

Wanda patted your shoulder again, offering more comfort. "Mistakes are part of learning, especially on your first mission. Remember, the key is to learn from them and get better. Don't let Bucky's words get to you too much."

You let out a weary sigh, realizing the truth in her words. "Yeah, I know.”

The quinjet touched down on the landing pad, and a sense of relief washed over you as you realized you were finally back home. This was it. You were finally home. "We'll talk later, okay?" Wanda asked, giving you a sympathetic smile.

You nodded appreciatively at her and quickly made your way to your room. You wanted nothing more than to lock yourself away and forget the whole thing ever happened. But the guilt and shame were too much to bear.

About a month after the incident, news of another mission started to circulate rapidly around the Avengers' headquarters. The buzz of excitement and anticipation filled the air, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions—both excitement and anxiety. This mission was your chance to redeem yourself after the missteps on your first assignment.

Determined to discuss your readiness for this new mission, you sought out Steve. As you approached his office, you noticed him engrossed in reading some files. You gently knocked on the open door.

"Hi Steve, may I come in?" you asked politely.

Steve looked up from the files and offered you a welcoming smile. He promptly closed the documents and gestured for you to enter. "Of course, come in Y/N." You stepped into his office, and he continued, "How are you doing, by the way?" Steve motioned for you to take a seat, showing genuine concern.

You settled into the chair across from him and fidgeted with your fingers, trying to find the right words. "I'm good, better than what happened last time..." You paused, your voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry about last time..."

Steve's warm smile remained reassuring. "Hey, Y/N, that's okay. We all make mistakes," he said with a reassuring tone, "Don't beat yourself up too much about it, okay?" His kindness and understanding were a comfort, making you feel grateful for his leadership and support.

"So, what brings you here?" Steve asked with a welcoming smile.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "I heard there's another mission in 2 days..." After a pause, you continued, "But I haven't received the assignment or briefing for it..."

Steve's friendly expression faltered, and he sighed. "Y/N, about that..." He looked genuinely conflicted. "We already have teams assigned to cover that mission. You don't need to worry about it."

Your heart sank, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It was becoming increasingly clear that you were being sidelined. "Is this because of what happened on the last mission?" You finally voiced your concern, your tone a mix of frustration and hurt.

Steve must've noticed the change in your tone. "Y/N, there'll be plenty of missions, and you'll definitely join the next one, okay?"

You took a deep breath and forced a smile, masking the pain that was gnawing at you. "Ah, okay, Steve." You chuckled, though it felt forced. "That's alright, I was just curious.”

Steve smiled weakly, but you could tell he understood your disappointment. "Y/N..."

You got up from the seat, disappointment heavy in your chest. You knew this was likely Bucky's doing. "Thank you, Captain, for the information. Good luck on the mission!" With that, you turned and left the room, trying to hide your frustration and disappointment.

As everyone prepared to leave for the mission, they bid you farewell, their expressions filled with sympathy. You knew they felt sorry for leaving you behind in the tower. Watching them depart filled you with a profound sense of sadness, knowing you couldn't join them.

You returned to your room, aimlessly flipping through the channels on the TV, but nothing captured your interest. Your mind kept wandering back to the missed opportunity, and the guilt and frustration gnawed at you.

After a futile attempt at watching TV, you tried to occupy yourself with a book, but the words on the pages blurred together as your thoughts remained fixated on the mission. With a sigh, you put the book down, realizing you were too distracted to read.

Restlessly, you paced around your room, contemplating various ways to improve your skills and prove that you were a valuable member of the team. Maybe you could spend some time in the training room or review combat strategies. You knew you had to keep pushing yourself to become better.

Eventually, you settled on the idea of practicing your marksmanship in the training room. Grabbing your gear, you headed there with determination in your step, determined to make the most of your time while the team was away on the mission.

Inside the gym, you started with some intense punching and kicking exercises. It felt great to release your anger, sadness, and disappointment through physical exertion. As you pummeled the sandbag, you couldn't help but imagine it as Bucky's face, channeling your frustration and resentment into each punch and kick. You unleashed your emotions on the inanimate object, giving it your all to cope with the overwhelming mix of feelings inside you.

Sweat dripped down your face, mixing with the occasional tear, but you didn't let up. You wiped away the sweat and tears from your face. "What" punch "Do" punch "I" kick "Have" punch "To" kick "Do" punch "To" punch "Prove" punch "To" punch "You" kick "That" kick "I'm" punch "Just" kick "As" kick "Good" kick "As" punch "Them" punch kick punch kick.

Why were you treated this way? What had you done to earn Bucky's disdain? How could you prove your worth to him? Frustration boiled inside you, reaching its peak as you let out a guttural scream, causing the sandbag to plummet from the force of your final blow.

Panting, you collapsed on the gym floor, you were exhausted and emotionally drained, but you felt a strange sense of relief. You clenched and unclenching your fists. You flexed your fingers and winced as the pain shot through them.

You chose to ignore the pain and you slowly got up from the gym floor. You knew you had pushed yourself too hard, but it was the only way you could vent your frustration and anger.

Limping, you made your way towards the bench where you had left your belongings. The room felt heavy with the echo of your pounding. Your trembling hand found the familiar coolness of your water bottle, and you clutched it tightly, taking a long, refreshing gulp. The cool liquid soothed your parched throat.

Just as you were catching your breath, Bucky unexpectedly strolled into the room. His presence surprised you, you hadn't expected anyone else to be there, especially not him.

His gaze, sharp and perceptive, honed in on your movements, "Still trying to prove yourself, huh?" he remarked, his words hanging in the air like a challenge, his tone laced with doubt.

You met his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down even in the face of his skepticism. "I don't need to prove anything to anyone, including you," you replied, your voice steady despite the ache in your body. "I'm just making sure I'm ready for whatever comes our way. Maybe you should worry less about what I'm doing and more about why you're not on the mission with the rest of the team."

Bucky's expression remained inscrutable, his indifference a stark contrast to your determination. He nonchalantly shrugged, an aloof response to your pointed words.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you couldn't help but roll your eyes, your frustration with him boiling over. "Whatever, Barnes. Keep your doubts to yourself."

You began packing up your belongings, a clear signal that you were ready to depart from his presence. You suspected he was still watching you, his intense gaze never wavering, but you wanted nothing more than to distance yourself from him. It felt like he was deliberately keeping you from the mission, and the resentment simmered within you.

After finishing packing, you headed towards the exit, but Bucky halted you by grabbing your hand. You turned around, irritation clear in your eyes. "What do you want, Barnes?" you snapped, trying to pull your hand away. “What the hell? Let me go!”

Ignoring your protest, he led you back to the training area, placing you in front of him. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach. Did he intend to spar with you? The uncertainty hung heavily in the air, making the atmosphere tense.

You stood your ground, your nervousness growing with every passing second. "What? Scared?" Bucky teased, a mocking smirk playing on his lips.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, refusing to let his taunts unnerve you. You managed a fake smile and replied, "Of you? No. Why would I be?" Determined not to show any fear.

Bucky's smirk widened as he said, "Well, you should be." He locked eyes with you and asked, "Ready?" The challenge in his tone was clear.

You took another deep breath, squared your shoulders, and met his gaze head-on. "Alright, Bucky. I'm game. What's the plan?" Your voice remained steady, even as your nerves continued to buzz beneath the surface.

Bucky's lips curved into a smirk. He motioned towards the training mats, his movements smooth and practiced. "Just try to land a hit on me."

Without a moment's warning, he lunged at you, his attack swift and precise. You barely managed to block it in time, the impact sending a jolt through your arms.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you felt a sting to your pride. "Just one hit?" you questioned, a mixture of disbelief and defiance in your voice. Did he genuinely doubt your abilities? Determination flared in your eyes as you prepared to prove him wrong.

He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't get ahead of yourself, doll. Come on, you're starting to bore me." You gritted your teeth and launched into your counterattack.

The atmosphere in the training room grew tense as you continued your attempts to land a hit on Bucky. Each time you launched an attack, he seemed to anticipate your every move, effortlessly blocking your punches and kicks. It was as if he had an innate ability to read your intentions, and it left you feeling frustrated and somewhat helpless.

With each failed attempt, Bucky's smirk grew wider, and he let out a low chuckle. "Come on, Y/N," he taunted, his tone dripping with playful mockery. "You've got to do better than that if you want to stand a chance."

His words stung, and they fueled your determination. You were well aware that Bucky was pushing your buttons, trying to rile you up, but you refused to let it show. You had a point to prove, not only to him but to yourself as well.

You decided to take another shot, launching into a new round of attacks, hoping to catch Bucky off guard. But just like before, he expertly caught your wrist each time, preventing your strikes from connecting. Frustration gnawed at you, and you let out an audible groan each time he effortlessly pinned your arms behind your back and pushed you back.

Bucky didn't hold back with his taunts either. "Is that the best you've got, doll?" he prodded, his gaze locked onto yours. "I've seen other recruits do better. What happened to all those praises they were singing about you?"

Taking a deep breath, you tried to surprise him with a sudden kick, but Bucky saw through your move. He even managed to catch your legs mid-kick, causing you to lose your balance and tumble to the ground.

His voice dripped with mock disappointment as he quipped, "Doll, I expected better than that. That was just plain bad."

You took a deep breath, frustration fueling your determination. This time, you decided to go all out. You lunged at him with full force, no holding back, hoping to land a solid hit. His dodge and blocks were frustratingly precise, but you didn't give in.

Finally, you managed to back him into a wall, and you saw an opening. You went for a powerful kick, but he swiftly caught your leg, pulling it towards him. Before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall, your front pressed firmly against the hard surface.

"Doll, nice try," Bucky said, his tone edged with approval, "but you've still got long ways to go."

You groaned as he pinned you to the wall, frustrated since you couldn't beat him. "Fuck!"

He chuckled lowly, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, his face mere inches from yours. "Language, sweetheart."

The feeling of his body pressed against yours sent tingles down your spine, and you tried to keep your breathing under control, your cheeks flushing.

Bucky seemed to notice your blush and couldn't resist a teasing remark. He leaned in even closer, his voice dripping with playful mischief. “What's the matter, doll? Is it too hot in here?" he teased, pressing himself closer to you.

Your blush deepened as he teased you, and you turned your head away from him, not able to meet his gaze. "You know what? You're seriously annoying."

Bucky's smile only grew wider, and he didn't let up. "Aw, come on, doll. Getting all worked up because you can't keep up?" he goaded, his warm breath tickling your neck. His face was even closer now, his eyes dark with a look you'd never seen before.

You huffed in exasperation, determined not to let his teasing get the best of you. "I can keep up just fine, thank you very much," you shot back, your competitive spirit coming to the forefront.

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "Well then," he challenged, his tone inviting. "Prove it. Try to break free from my hold."

Your breath caught in your throat at the suggestion, a rush of adrenaline surging through your veins. "Okay," you agreed, your tone confident. You decided to take Bucky's challenge head-on.

With a swift and calculated move, you attempted to break free from his hold, using all the skills you had acquired during your training with the Avengers. Bucky, ever the skilled fighter, didn't make it easy, but you were determined not to give in.

You tried and tried, but you couldn't seem to break free from his strong hold. You were both sweating, the effort causing the air around you to grow thicker and heavier. You could feel his chest pressed against your body, muscles flexing as he maintained the firm grip he had on you.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you were both breathing heavily, neither of you willing to give in. In that moment, with your bodies pressed together and the heat between you almost unbearable, something changed. You felt his hold on you loosen slightly, and you took the opportunity to spin around, pinning him to the wall.

A surprised chuckle escaped his lips, clearly caught off guard by your sudden move. His eyes, filled with desire, locked onto yours, and the tension between you seemed to reach a boiling point.

You couldn't help but smirk as you managed to gain the upper hand, "Huh, I wi-" But before you could finish, he swiftly turned the tables, pinning you back against the wall.

He chuckled, his voice low and husky. "Not quite, doll." He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, his voice low.

You gasped, feeling the cool metal of his arm pressing against your skin. "You were saying?" he murmured, his voice low and husky. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear.

You bit your lip, feeling the tension between you reach a fever pitch. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Never let your guard down until you know your opponent is truly defeated," he whispered, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

Your frustration bubbled up, and you couldn't help but shake your head in response. "That's not fair!" you protested, your voice tinged with exasperation. "I managed to break free from your hold. Doesn't that count for something?"

He chuckled, "Not it doesn't. You've still got a lot to learn. I could've easily gotten the upper hand on you again. The moment you let your guard down is the moment you lose the fight."

You clenched your jaw and stared into his blue eyes, not backing down from his challenge. "Okay enough with the taunting. I'm not afraid of you, Barnes."

His lips were so close, you could feel his breath against your skin. "You should be, doll," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

A moment passed between the two of you, and then, as if a dam had broken, he kissed you hard, it made you surprised, you gasped on his mouth and felt his tongue exploring you.

Your heart was pounding, the excitement building as you kissed him back. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as the heat between you grew.

"God, Y/N," he groaned against your mouth. His metal hand reached for your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. He pressed you harder against the wall, his hips grinding against yours. You moaned at the friction, feeling your body responding to his touch.

The training room was forgotten as the two of you gave in to your desires, the heat between you driving you both wild. You knew it was a bad idea, but in that moment, you didn't care. All that mattered was the pleasure, the heat, the intensity of it all.

"Bucky..." You panted, feeling his lips and teeth exploring your neck, his tongue licking you, tasting you.

The sound of his name on your lips sent him over the edge, and he couldn't hold back anymore. His hands found their way under your yoga pants, gripping your ass. He bit down on your lip, drawing a small moan from you. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

"Fuck, doll. You like this? Me fucking you against the wall?" he groaned against your mouth.

You nodded, unable to form any coherent words. “Tell me, do you want more?"

"Yes," you breathed, your body trembling with need.

"Tell me," he ordered, his voice husky with desire.

"I want you, Bucky…. please."

"Beg for it," he growled, his hands moving to the front of your yoga pants. He tugged them down, the cold air hitting your wet core, his hand quickly finding its way between your thighs. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"Fuck, doll," he muttered, his fingers slipping into your panties, finding your wetness. "So fucking wet for me.” His fingers slid inside you, making you gasp, your hips bucking against him. "Is this what you want, doll?"

"Yes!" you cried out, your hands grasping at his shirt, trying to pull him closer. "Please," you moaned, your hips bucking against his.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, making you writhe and moan beneath him. "Such a good girl," he murmured, his free hand coming up to grip your breast. He groped you hard, squeezing and massaging you through your sports bra.

"Put your hands up," he commanded, pulling his fingers out of you. You complied, your hands reaching above your head. He pulled up your bra, exposing your breasts to him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. You moaned, your hips bucking against him as he sucked and nibbled on your breasts.

"So responsive," he chuckled, his hand reaching between your legs once again, his fingers dipping into your wetness. "Such a wet little girl. You're dripping for me."

"You like this?" He growled, his fingers rubbing your clit, his thumb sliding up and down your slick folds. He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine, "Tell me were you already wet when we started sparring? Did you want me to pin you against the wall? To fuck you hard?"

You couldn't respond, the pleasure was too much. You were teetering on the edge, ready to fall over at any moment. "Please, Bucky..." you gasped, your hips grinding against his hand, desperately seeking release.

"You're a naughty girl, aren't you? You want me to fuck you, right here, in the training room, where anyone could walk in and see us?"

He was right, you didn't even think of that possibility. You shook your head, "No.. of course not... it's just the heat of the moment... It's just... we're alone right now."

"You sure about that, doll? Cause I'm pretty sure I heard someone walk by a few minutes ago. What if it was Clint? Or worse, what if it was Fury? I bet he would love to see this. His little protégé, getting fucked by the Winter Soldier."

You froze, your eyes wide.

"You know what?" He chuckled, "Let's put on a show for them. Let them watch. Let them see how you beg and scream for me."

“Cat’s got your tongue doll? Where are all the firey comebacks now? Nothing to say?” Your mind was in a state of shock. You tried to think, who was it? But Bucky was stroking you at a relentless pace, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.  

"You want me to make you cum, doll? To make you scream my name?"

"Yes," you panted, you didn’t care anymore, all you wanted was release. Your body trembling as he drove you closer to the edge.

He reached up, gripping your chin, his eyes locking onto yours. "I've wanted to fuck your attitude out of you ever since you came to the compound, doll,” he said, his voice husky with lust. "Watching you fight, all that fire, all that passion, it makes me so fucking hard. You have no idea how many times I've wanted to take you right here, to show you who's in control."

You couldn't take it anymore, the pleasure building, "I'm so close... Bucky," you moaned. You were so close, and he was taking you to new heights. You couldn't stop yourself, you could feel yourself losing control.

"Yeah I can tell, you're tightening around my fingers. Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Beg for it, and maybe I'll let you," he teased, his fingers still pumping in and out of you, faster and faster, sending you over the edge.

"Please, Bucky..." you cried, your hips bucking against his hand.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and you whined in frustration. "What the hell, Barnes?”

"Now, now," he tsked, his fingers trailing down your stomach, and stopping at your hip. "You don't get to come until I say so, doll," he ordered, his voice low and dangerous.

"But, please, I'm so close," you begged, the frustration almost unbearable.

"I know, but you need to learn who's in charge, and it's not you," he said, his fingers tracing circles around your clit, making you moan. "You have to obey my orders, Y/N."

"What the fuck, Barnes!" You screamed at him feeling angry at how he toyed with you. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He grabbed your hair and pulled it down making you winched in pain, "What did you fucking say to me?" He grabbed it harder when you didn’t answer him.

"Ouch." You winced in pain.

Bucky's eyes darkened and he tightened his grip. “First, you need to watch that mouth of yours." He was breathing heavily, his voice rough and commanding. "Or I'm going to shove my dick in it and put you in your place." he warned, his hand moving to grip your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

You gulped down at his threat. There was no mistaking the promise in his voice, but your pussy clenched at the thought of taking him into your mouth.  

"Second," he continued, his grip loosening slightly. "You need to learn that you don't get to question my orders, doll. You're going to be a good girl and listen."

You stared at him, unable to speak. He was serious.

"Answer me Y/N or I will leave you here, frustrated and wanting more," He threatened.

You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, his dominance and authority turning you on even more.

"Yes please, I'll obey," you said, your voice shaking slightly.

"Good girl, that’s more like it," he murmured, his metal hand coming up to caress your cheek. Bucky leaned closer and kissed your lips, his tongue sliding inside your mouth. He was sucking on your tongue and nibbling on your lips, his teeth digging into the soft flesh of your mouth. He kissed your cheek and moved down to your neck.

"Now, where are we?" He asked, his fingers back on your clit, rubbing in slow, agonizing circles. He was torturing you, teasing you.

He smiled wickedly, his hand moving from your clit and slipping inside you. He pushed two fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

You wanted to scream and yell at him, but you were unable to speak, the pleasure and the need for release overwhelming. You were panting and moaning, your eyes closed shut as you were trying not to come.

"Not yet." he growled. He pushed a third fingers inside your core and began pumping them. He started moving his hand faster and faster, the sound of his fingers sliding in and out filling the air.

"Beg," he commanded, his voice firm.

"Please, please, please, Bucky," you whimpered.

"Louder," he ordered.

"Please!" you whimpered, the desire and need taking over. "Please, Bucky, fuck my pussy and let me come," you begged. You felt your inside tightening, you need to come right now.

Bucky leaned closer and kissed you again, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth, exploring every inch. He moaned into your mouth, his fingers still pumping into you, his thumb circling your clit. "No," he said, and your eyes snapped open, meeting his blue ones. He smirked, seeing that you were close. "If you come before I tell you, I will punish you, doll."

Your eyes widened and your whole body shook with fear.

"Do you understand?" He asked, his fingers slowly pumping inside you.

"Yes, yes, I understand."

He chuckled, "You're a needy little slut, aren't you? You'd beg for my cock too, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," you moaned, the word falling from your lips without a second thought. "Please, Bucky, I need to come. I need your cock inside me, fucking me hard and fast," you begged, the words tumbling from your lips.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his fingers picking up their pace. "You're gonna cum for me now, doll. You're gonna cum all over my fingers, and then, when you've recovered, you're gonna get on your knees and suck my cock. And when I'm ready, I'm gonna fuck you, and I'm gonna make you scream my name."

You moaned loudly as his fingers brought you closer to the edge, his words sending a thrill through you.

"You'd like that wouldn't you, doll? Having my cock buried deep inside you, fucking you senseless?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you panted, the pleasure building. He added another finger and curled them inside you, hitting your g-spot, and you gasped.

"That's it, Y/N," he groaned, his fingers moving faster. "Come for me. Let me hear you."

"I... I'm gonna..." you moaned, the pleasure building in your body. You couldn't hold back any longer, the pleasure overwhelming you,

"Come now!," he ordered his fingers working even faster, and suddenly, you exploded.

"BUCKY!" You screamed, your body shaking violently as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your body was trembling, and your juices were flowing freely down his fingers

"Such a good girl," he praised, his fingers slowing, drawing out the last of your orgasm, licking them clean. “Delicious," he murmured.

You panted, your body still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. He lowered you to the floor, your legs shaky from the intense pleasure.

Bucky chuckled, seeing the confusion on your face. "Don't worry, doll," he said, leaning down and kissing you. "We're just getting started."

"On your knees," he commanded, his voice husky with desire.

Your knees trembled and you looked up at him. His eyes were dark, his pupils dilated with lust. You could see his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You did as you were told, dropping to your knees. You looked up at him, your eyes locking onto his.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, and you obeyed. "Suck my cock." His voice firm and authoritative

Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you watched him slowly unzip his pants, his thick, hard cock springing free. You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight of him. The serum must did something to him, as his member was definitely bigger than any man you'd seen before.

"Now," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "Don't be shy," he coaxed, his eyes dark with lust.

You slowly reached up and grasped his thick shaft in your hand, feeling the hot, smooth skin, marveling at the size of him. You felt a jolt of excitement run through your body as you stroked his length, feeling him twitch in your hand. You could feel yourself growing wet as you continued to stroke his cock, his member growing even harder under your touch.

His fingers tangling in your hair  "Now, put my cock in your pretty mouth, doll," he said, his voice thick with desire.

You lowered your head and opened your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. You licked the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it, tasting his salty pre-cum. He groaned, his hips bucking as you took more of his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down.

You hummed around him, the vibration making him moan. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling at the roots as you worked your mouth up and down his shaft, his cock hitting the back of your throat.

You felt a surge of pleasure run through your body as you sucked his cock, loving the taste and feel of him in your mouth. You could feel his grip tightening on your hair as you continued to suck him, your tongue dancing along his length.

You didn't have any practice beforehand, but you are naturally gifted hearing praises, such as "Mmm, that's it.”, "Just like that.", “Fuck, you are good.” and the way his thighs trembled beside your ears were a tell-tale sign that you were doing great.

"You look so good like this," he moaned, his hand holding onto the back of your head, guiding your mouth over his cock. "I've imagined you sucking me off before."

His words made you moan around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

"You're taking my cock so well, like you were made for it."

You whimpered around him, his cock hitting the back of your throat once again. The feeling of his cock throbbing in your mouth, the taste of him, and the way he praised you were pushing you closer to the edge.

"God, your mouth feels so fucking good," he moaned, his hips thrusting as he fucked your mouth. "Such a good little slut, aren't you, doll?"

You felt your pussy clench at his words, your arousal growing with every stroke of his cock. You bobbed your head faster, taking him deeper into your mouth, loving the sounds of his moans.

His fingers tugged at your hair, the pain and pleasure mixing together to send another rush of pleasure through your body. You moaned around him, the sound vibrating through his cock, causing him to thrust deeper into your mouth.

You whimpered, your eyes watering as he pounded into your mouth. You could barely breathe, his thick cock stretching your throat as he fucked your mouth. Your pussy throbbed, your arousal coating your thighs as he mouth-fucked you.

"Oh yeah, you love this, don't you?" He groaned. "You love choking on my cock." As he thrust his cock into your mouth, his hands travelled to your breast, squeezing them hard, making you moan.

He groaned as you continued to suck, his grip on your hair tightening, the pain sending another wave of pleasure through your body. He was fucking your mouth ruthless, the wet slurping sounds were the only sound in the room. And the sounds he was making was almost enough to make you cum.

It became harder to breath with each stroke of his cock meeting the back of your throat, tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

He looked down at you, the sight of your mouth around his cock was almost enough to make him cum. He pulled out of your mouth with a loud pop, leaving you gasping for breath and tears running down your face.

"Look at you, what a mess you are," he smirked, his eyes raking over your body. "You're such a dirty girl, aren't you?"

You felt your face flush, his words making your pussy ache with need. You whimpered, the need to be filled by his cock becoming unbearable.

"Do you want me to fuck you, doll? Do you want me to fuck you so hard, you can't walk tomorrow?"

You moaned, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes, please," you begged, your voice hoarse. "Please, fuck me, Bucky." You couldn’t think straight, you had no filter, you were just saying whatever came to mind.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back. "Say it," he growled, his eyes dark and dangerous.

"Please, Bucky," you said, your voice pleading.

"Try better than that," he said, his voice firm.

"Please fuck me, Sergeant," you whimpered, your voice laced with desperation. "Please fuck me hard and fast until I can't walk. Please use me however you want."

He smiled wickedly. "Your words, not mine. Be careful for what you wish for, doll."

He shoved you onto the floor, his body looming over you. "On the floor. On all fours now," he ordered, his voice stern and commanding.

You scrambled to comply, getting onto your hands and knees. Your heart racing as he positioned himself behind you.

"Spread your legs," he said, and you complied.

He knelt behind you, his hands roaming over your body, caressing your skin. You could feel his hands on your hips, his cock rubbing against your wetness.

"Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you, Y/N?" He whispered, his voice low and husky.

You stayed quiet waiting for him. "I'm gonna make you scream and beg for me, I'm gonna make you forget everything, except my name."

His words sent a shiver through your body, his tone full of dominance and power.

"And when I'm done with you, you'll never forget me, Y/N. You'll always remember me, remember the way I made you feel."

You could feel his hardness pressing against your entrance, teasing you, tormenting you. His hands running over your ass. "But I'm not gonna go easy on you. You understand?"

"Yes," you moaned, your voice breathy. "I understand."

"Good girl," he said, and with that, he pushed his cock inside of you, filling you completely. You cried out, your body quivering as he stretched you. "Such a tight little cunt," he groaned, his hips snapping against you, his cock buried deep inside of you. "So fucking perfect."

You cried out, the pain and pleasure mixing together.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He started to move, his pace slow and steady, his cock stretching you with each thrust.

"Oh god," you moaned, your voice echoing in the room.

"You like that, Y/N?" As he slammed his cock into you, his voice full of lust.

"Yes," you moaned, the sensation driving you wild.

"That's right, doll, take my cock," he growled, his fingers digging into your hips. "Take all of it." He was rough, his pace fast and unforgiving, his cock filling you to the brim with every thrust. You cried out, the pleasure and pain mingling into a sweet symphony.

You moaned, your body shaking as he fucked you. He was pounding into you, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your body was on fire, your mind lost in a haze of lust and desire. "Who's pussy is this?," He asked.

"It's yours," you gasped, your body trembling.

"Say it again," he commanded, his thrusts growing faster and harder.

"It's yours," you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Fucking right it is," he growled, his voice low and husky.

He was pounding into you, his pace relentless. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the smell of sex hanging heavy in the air.

He yanked your hair, forcing your head back and you whimpered. He kissed you, his tongue invading your mouth. His teeth dug into your bottom lip, making you moan.

"Who's a dirty little slut?" He demanded, his hips slapping against yours.

"Me," you gasped, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you. "I'm a dirty little slut, Bucky."

"That's right," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You're my dirty little slut, and I'm gonna fucking ruin you. You’re fucking mine."

Your body trembled, your muscles tensing as his cock slammed into you. You could feel the pleasure building, the pressure mounting inside of you. You were so close, and you needed him to finish you off. "Oh god, I’m so close," you begged, your voice desperate and needy.

"Not yet," he snarled, his grip on your hair tightening. "You'll cum when I say so, and not a moment before."

"Please," you begged, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. "Please let me cum, Bucky."

"Soon, doll," he promised, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Very soon." He knew you almost came and he decided to torture you further when his fingers finding your clit and he pressed down hard.

You cried out, the pleasure and pain becoming too much. "Oh god," you whimpered, your body trembling. "Please, I can't take it."

He slammed his cock into you, his balls slapping against your clit. "Yes, you can," he growled. "And you will."

You whimpered, the pressure inside of you reaching a breaking point. "Bucky, please please please," you begged, the pleasure threatening to consume you.

"Now," he commanded, his voice harsh and commanding. "Cum for me, doll."

You cried out, the pleasure exploding throughout your body. Your walls clenched around his cock, your muscles spasming. Your mind went blank, the world around you fading away. Your body was shaking uncontrollably as he fucked you through your orgasm, his hips snapping against you, his cock pounding into you.

You were exhausted, your body drained of energy. He continued to fuck you, his pace slowing slightly.

He slapped your ass, the sting of his hand sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. "Such a good little slut," he growled, his hips slamming against yours. "Taking my cock so well."

"Bucky," you moaned, the pleasure building once again. "Please, I can't take anymore."

"Yes, you can," he said, his voice low and husky. He slapped your ass again, harder this time. "You're going to cum for me again, doll."

"No," you protested weakly, your body trembling with exhaustion.

“Yes," he growled, his thrusts becoming more intense. "You will." His metal hand sliding up your stomach, between your breasts, and around your throat.

Your body arched, pushing your hips further onto his cock. The sound of his ragged breaths mixed with yours as you both raced towards your climaxes. "I'm close, Y/N. So fucking close."

His hands pinched your nipples, sending another shock of pleasure through your body. He sucked on them, the sensation almost too much for you. You whimpered, his lips capturing yours again. Your tongues swirled around each other, tasting, devouring.

His cock slid in and out of you, his pace quickening. His moans and growls echoed around you as his orgasm neared. He was so close. So was you.

"Please, Bucky," you begged, your pussy clenching around his length.

He tightened his grip on your throat and slammed his hips into yours. His free hand slid down to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles over it. His eyes meeting yours. his hips slapping against yours, his cock hitting all the right spots.

"Cum with me, doll. Don't close your eyes. I want to see those pretty eyes as you come apart."

Your entire body shuddered, his command sending you over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his length, milking him of his seed. Your body trembled, your muscles spasming as you rode out the waves of ecstasy. His breath becoming ragged as his own release neared.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips slapping against you. "Your cunt is so fucking perfect."

"God, yes," you moaned, the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

He slammed into you, his pace becoming erratic as he neared his release. "Oh god," he moaned, his hips snapping against yours. "I'm gonna cum."

"Yes, Bucky. Cum inside me," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your words were enough to send him over the edge.

He growled, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you, his cock filling you completely. He groaned as he cum, his body shuddering as his release washed over him.

"That's right," he groaned, his body going limp. "Take all of it." You felt him twitch inside of you, his hot release spilling into you.

You slumped forward, your body spent as it slick with sweat and cum.  You could hear Bucky panting behind you, his chest heaving. You rested your forehead against the floor, trying to catch your breath. You had never been fucked so thoroughly in your life. Your muscles were sore and tired, your pussy throbbing.

Bucky was still inside of you, his cock softening. He pulled out, his cum spilling out of you. You could feel his cum leaking from your pussy, dripping down your thighs. "Look at that," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Such a pretty sight." He slid a finger between your folds, collecting the sticky mess, then he pushed it back inside you. You let out a small whimper as he slowly pumped it in and out.

Bucky turned you around, your head falling back against the floor. His face hovered above yours, his blue eyes burning with lust. He looked down at you, before he could say anything, you both heard footsteps approaching.

You were panicking as someone could see you in such state, strangely, Bucky seemed unfazed, his expression steady despite the unexpected interruption. Then the next thing made your heart skipped as you heard the doorknob turning. You could only pray the ground to swallow you whole.

Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the story! Apologies if the ending didn't meet your expectations, I'm considering a Part 2, but I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'm open to any feedback for improvement. Your input means a lot.

If you want to see more, please show your support by leaving a like. Thank you for taking the time to read!

A/N : Thank you so much for the kind replies and support! I'm really glad you enjoy the story, you have no idea how much that motivate me to continue writing. Please stay tune for part 2! Love youuuu xx

[uzurimisery]

chapter 1: the setting. / coriolanus snow / nsfw

Watching TBOSAS rekindled my love of this series and Tom Blyth makes young Snow sexy.

wc: 4,422

waring: smut, misogyny, dubcon, toxic relationships, snow is insane, not beta read

AO3 version here | Series Master

“You’re to take Y/N to the gala and after that the two of you will begin a show of courting for the Capitol to watch.”

Coriolanus Snow found you to be a thorn in his side. An unknown variable. You were wellbred stock, perfect for carrying on a bloodline, but somehow you were as disgraced as those from the Districts. Even before the war had started and ended Coriolanus found you insufferable. Too aggressive, undisciplined, and unpredictable. He liked reading people, at this point he’d say he could read others better than they could read themselves. But you were a blank slate. Wellbred, well read, and well insufferable. The only reason he even pretended to care about you was who your mother was. 

Dr. Volumnia Gaul was more of a creator than a mother. Mothers cared and nurtured their children with love and compassion, two emotions Gaul was incapable of. Funny considering she was once an obstetrician. It was there that she had been introduced to your father, another prominent Capitol resident, and had you. She liked you, surely, often willing to give you more grace than others for their mistakes, but love would be going too far. Perhaps her being your mother is why Coriolanus liked you even less, you had all of her traits he disliked the most. 

The Snow family had always been led by men, a tradition passed down from father to son, an unbroken chain of masculine dominance. But the Gauls were different. They were led by women, strong, capable women who defied the traditional power dynamics. And you were no exception.

You were determined to prove yourself, to carve your own path, to become a leader just like your mother. You fought Coriolanus head-on, challenging his every suggestion, even when you knew your opposition was futile. You were a master of manipulation, using coercion, leadership, and cunning to bend others to your will. Even Coriolanus, the shrewd and calculating Snow, found himself falling prey to your machinations at times.

You had convinced two of the most desirable women in the Capitol, Persephone Price and Iphigenia Moss, that he was in love with them both. For a tense month and a half, they waged a bitter war for his affections, making his life a living hell right after he had returned from District 12. It was as if you simply enjoyed watching the chaos you created, relishing in the discomfort you inflicted upon him.

Coriolanus couldn't deny his grudging admiration for your skill. You were a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind of ambition and cunning.You were a puzzle he couldn't quite solve, a challenge he couldn't quite overcome. And that unsettled him.

"Dr. Gaul," he began, his voice laced with scepticism, "I hardly think that I am the most suitable companion for your daughter, even if just for show.”

A sharp, echoing cackle escaped Volumnia's lips, sending a shiver down Coriolanus's spine. 

"Oh, Coriolanus," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "my dear star pupil, you underestimate your own abilities. You are the very person I need to keep that girl in line. Plus she makes you look like a more viable successor."

His jaw tensed. 

“I hardly think that if you couldn’t control her I could.” 

“Control is a fickle thing Mr. Snow,” Volumnia did not even turn to face him as she stared down into a microscope. She turned a dial to clarify the view before then adding liquid, some sort of acid from the smell, and stirring the plate with a glass rod before continuing. 

"Y/N is merely playing at having control. She is an actor, a performer, and you, my dear Coriolanus, will be her stage."

“And what is my role in this performance?” 

"You will be the charming escort, the perfect foil to her rebellious spirit," she explained. "Your ability to manage her shows that the Gaul name carries on in your relationship with her, breeding the best gamemaker there could ever be."

His fingers itched to throw the beaker of acid onto Gaul. The very thought of touching you made his skin crawl. He could still feel the lingering sensation of your skin against his, a clammy, unnatural warmth that sent shivers down his spine from the last time the two of you had touched even briefly. Truly his interactions with you had been limited before the 10th games, you were two years his junior, it was only after he came back from 12 that he had even spoken to you. Now you worked side by side with each other on the games under your mother, and his every interaction with you made him violent.

The idea of having you draped over his arm all night filled him with a sense of nausea. He could almost picture you under him, your body contorting in agony as you choked by his doing. He envisioned himself standing over one of the ridiculous chaises in your family estate, your father's extravagant purchase. He would slowly tighten his grip around your throat, watching as your eyes bulged in terror and your face contorted in pain.

The thought of your hands desperately clawing at his arms, your tears streaming down your face, sent a strange jolt of excitement through him. 

He pictured himself using one of the delicate scarves you always wore to strangle you, the soft fabric contrasting with the harshness of your screams. He would watch as your eyes rolled back in your head, your life fading away with a final, gasping breath.

Hate was a strong word, but it was the only word that adequately described his feelings for you. A venomous mixture of loathing, fascination, and a twisted desire that he couldn't quite explain. Lucy Gray he had wanted to control, but you wanted to break.

“As you wish Dr. Gaul.”

_

When your mother had told you that you were to be escorted by Coriolanus to the gala and then “pretend” to court him, you were pissed. You saw through his carefully constructed façade of charm and sophistication, recognizing him for the manipulative user he truly was. In his eyes, people were nothing more than expendable pawns, their lives mere tokens in his ruthless game.

While you couldn't deny that you shared a similar disregard for human life, having been raised in an environment where expendability was a given, there was a fundamental difference between your perspectives. You saw value in keeping people alive, recognizing their potential as tools in your own elaborate schemes. Death was not an option for you; it was a blunt instrument, a crude solution to a complex problem. People were willing to go to the extremes for their loved ones, and extremes meant profit.

There was no choice to be had in the matter of being his date, mother dearest had given you a look that said all. If you dared to defy her wishes, she would unleash a torrent of consequences, transforming your life into a living hell until she deemed your lesson learned. While you possessed a certain degree of freedom, there were lines even you dared not cross, and this was one of them. 

But Coriolanus made you feel things that you thought you were incapable of, a deep burning rage that whispered at the end of it all one of you would be consumed. You could almost envision the moment when your fury would reach its crescendo, when your teeth would sink into his flesh, consuming him in the flames of your intensity.

As if life couldn't be any more cruel to you, Coriolanus had insisted that you were costumed by his cousin Tigris. Now Tigris was agreeable company, a beacon of kindness and warmth, possessed an innate ability to perceive the good in others. While you found her naivety and idealism somewhat exasperating, you couldn't deny her inherent goodness and her remarkable skill as a seamstress.

Yet, the thought of enduring the tedious process of changing into multiple outfits, each designed to enhance Tigris's artistic vision, threatened to push you to the brink of insanity, a state your mother had succumbed to years ago. The prospect of reliving her descent into madness sent a chill down your spine.

Tigris's fingers trailed along the soft fabric of the gown, carefully adjusting its folds to accentuate the curves of your body. "You know, you've got a really nice figure," she remarked, her voice laced with admiration.

A wry smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Why thank you, Tigris. If you asked your cousin, he'd tell you I had a body made for the Districts."

Tigris's brow furrowed in confusion. "What does that even mean?"

"Oh, it's just one of his many ways of insulting me," you explained with a shrug. "He's surprisingly bad at it, considering how much he tries."

As Tigris continued her work, meticulously crafting the gown to perfection, you found yourself enjoying her company more than you had anticipated. Her easygoing nature and engaging conversation provided a welcome distraction from the simmering tension that always seemed to accompany Coriolanus's presence.

For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to partially let down the guard you had carefully constructed over the years. You savoured the simple pleasure of Tigris's companionship, cherishing the rare moments of genuine connection in a world that often felt cold and impersonal. Even if it was inside the Snow family penthouse.

The black velvet gown hugged your curves like a second skin. Tigris' skilled hands moved with practised ease, adjusting the intricate details of the dress, ensuring that it would perfectly complement your form.

"I think I'll add a corset effect to this," Tigris mused. "Corio has some cufflinks that were his father’s that would go well with that."

"I am but your humble dress-up doll," you teased, playing along with her lighthearted banter.

Tigris's smile widened, her laughter echoing through the opulent dressing room. "Well then, I'll have to show off my best work for such a famous doll," she declared, her voice filled with playful affection.

The light hearted mood continued for some time, eventually a servant came in to offer you tea. That ended up being your only respite as Tigris then wanted you to try on more gowns for different events. Apparently you had sparked something in her to create various things.

Perched atop a pedestal, clad only in your underwear and an arm across your bare chest, conversation flowed with Tigris, her nimble fingers expertly hemming the length of a shimmering silver gown. Your topics ranged from the latest academy and university gossip to Ma Plinth's overprotective tendencies towards Coriolanus, eventually settling on your father's renowned interior design skills. His contributions to the Capitol's architectural landscape were a source of pride for both of you.

You two had been so lost in conversation you hadn’t heard Coriolanus enter the apartment and calling out for Tigris until he was in the doorframe of the dressing parlour.

“Tigris I need you to fix this stitch on my blazer, it came undone while I was walking over here- oh.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Coriolanus's face, momentarily disrupting his composed demeanour. He seemed momentarily taken aback by the sight of you.

Tigris quickly rose, her hands reaching to cover your exposed form, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Corio!” she stammered, “If you can just leave it on the chair I’ll get to it shortly.” 

Coriolanus regained his composure. "No need to rush, Tigris," he spoke smoothly, his voice devoid of any hint of the turmoil that he felt "I just need this done by Tuesday."

He turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "I should hope that's not what you’re intending to wear to the gala, I think your mother would throw you in the arena herself.”

Without another word, he turned and exited the dressing room, leaving you and Tigris to exchange looks.

___

Coriolanus couldn't shake the image of your back from his mind. The smooth, flawless skin, untouched by blemish or imperfection, is a testament to the care your mother had taken in your upbringing and no doubt the many concoctions she made to keep you that way. The memory of your curves lingered in his thoughts.

He had always held the opinion that your body was more suited to the Districts, a form meant for bearing child after child to provide the Captiol with more luxury. But seeing you laid bare made him reconsider your appeal. 

His usual taste in women ran towards the petite, almost painfully thin, figures that could afford to forgo nourishment for the sake of fashion. They were delicate creatures, easily controlled, incapable of challenging his authority. But there was something about you, something that stirred a different kind of desire within him.

Thoughts of you under him shifted, taking on a carnal nature. The dim light in the room seemed to flicker with the intensity of the images playing in Coriolanus's mind. 

You under him, tears streaming down your face, but no longer was he choking you. You cried out in pleasure begging him to never stop. Your cheeks flushed, eyes glossy, mouth open as you gasped. Neck covered in hit bite marks and hickies that trailed down your chest, heaving with exertion. His hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him as he thrust again and again, your nails digging into his forearms drawing blood.

You cried so sweetly for him, came undone so well for him. That cunning mind of yours consumed by thoughts of him. He might never figure out how to predict your actions but he could figure out your needs, your desires, what makes you tick. Pull your tongue out between his fingers and spit in your mouth. To turn you on your front and hike your hips up against his own, hands pinned behind your back. 

“Corio, what's wrong?”

Coriolanus's mind jolted back to the present, the vivid images from his fantasies dissolving like wisps of smoke. He blinked rapidly, adjusting to the dim light of the room once more. Your gentle voice, using his nickname, had pierced through the haze of his thoughts, pulling him back from the precipice of his desires.

"Nothing, I was considering something for the next games," he replied, his voice slightly strained. "I do apologise, Mr. Creed. Innovation is something that weighs on me heavily.”

Mr. Creed chuckled, bassy and thumping. “ No worries my boy, your date was keeping me ample company.” 

He watched as the older man's gaze lingered on your figure, a predatory glint in his eyes as it bore into your chest for a second too long.

 Disgust churned within him, a visceral reaction to the blatant display of lechery. Mr. Creed's age only served to amplify the repulsiveness of his behaviour, a man old enough to be your father, yet still driven by the primal urges of a rutting animal.

Coriolanus saw through the façade of civility, the veneer of sophistication that Mr. Creed carefully maintained. Behind the polished exterior lurked a man incapable of masking his basest desires, his eyes a window into a mind consumed by lust.

He drew you in closer, feeling the heat of your skin spread against the material of his suit.

“And what company she is.” he placed a kiss on your temple with a chuckle all whistle maintaining eye contact with Mr. Creed. A man's warning not to vye for what was his. “I often say she should host the games instead of designing them.” 

“Oh hush! You couldn’t possibly manage without me.”

“Well I’d have your mother.” 

You giggled at that, showing that you had one too many fruity cocktails infused with a laughing agent earlier in the night, the light catching in your eyes. He could tell you were loose, more pliable then he had ever seen you. Part of him wondered if it was just all part of the act to you, playing as well behaved for him.  The Capitol’s untouchable wild child made compliant in his arms. 

Despite the lingering doubt, Coriolanus couldn't deny the allure of your presence. Your laughter, once a source of frustration, now held a captivating charm, and your relaxed attitude was a welcome change from your usual sharp wit and guarded demeanour.

“And with that Mr. Creed, I do think that Y/N and myself should go find Dr. Gaul.” 

“Of course Mr. Snow, I look forward to your next presentation.’ 

Coriolanus pulled you away from the overly perfumed man and out of the garden where you had been. The president’s mansion always had half the party outside in the expansive greenery and the rest on the first floor of the building. He guided you out of the garden, the expansive greenery and lively chatter fading into a distant hum. He led you into a secluded sitting room, its dimly lit interior a stark contrast to the vibrant party outside.

Coriolanus was a man who prized possession, a collector of valuable objects and people alike. He had never been one to share, a feature made even worse after his time in District 12, and the sight of Mr. Creed eyeing his 'toy' had ignited a possessive fire within him.

You were his, he told himself, all the Capitol knew after the revelation of your made up love affair during the 15th games. But, you had made it abundantly clear that you were not his. The ownership did not extend into your life outside of performing in your role for the people of the Capitol and to appease your mother.

It was easy to keep the lines from being blurred normally but since that day in the dressing parlour something snapped within him. 

Plopping down on the chaise you sighed heavily. “What crawled up your ass Corio?” To strung out every syllable of his nickname, teasing him. 

A sharp exhale and her turned to face you. Watching you reapply your pristine red lipstick. 

“Creed is nothing more than a pig, a bloated, self-serving creature who values nothing but his own wealth and power," he growled, his voice laced with venom. 

You raised an eyebrow. 

“Tell me something I don't know. One of their Avvoxes is like that because Festus saw his father with the girl, and his mother went bat shit.”

“How do you know this?”

You closed your compact with a snap and tucked it back into your clutch alongside your lipstick. "Festus told me," you confessed, a sly grin playing on your lips. "He squeals easily.”

He hummed in agreement. 

“Tell me Snow, when did you start to care if some old pervert undressed me mentally.” 

“Since your mother made the entire country think we’re in love.”

“But we aren't.”

“No we aren’t,” there was no love between you two “but that means you’re mine as far as he’s concerned. I don’t enjoy anyone coveting what's mine, even if this relationship is just for show.”

“Ah! Of course, there he is, the egotistical and controlling Coriolanus we all know. For a second I thought you might actually hold a shred of care for me.” 

You leaned back in the chair, your dress slipping slightly down on your chest furthering the curve of your breast. 

He had to admit to himself he was no more animal than Mr. Creed when the slightest slip made his thoughts race. His mind went back to his earlier thoughts now inspired by the room you were in. Bent over the chaise with your lipstick smeared, a litany of stains on his face and collar. He’d hike the skirt of your dress up and pull your top down, leaving your breasts free for him to grab at as he took you from behind, your underwear hanging off just an ankle. Festus or his father would walk in the scene and pale as Coriolanus displayed his ownership of you. 

“Seriously Snow what’s wrong with you?” You’ve been distracted all night.” You shifted on the chair grabbing his arm and pulling him down to sit. “I won’t pretend to like you but you’re not yourself.” 

His gaze flickered down to your chest before meeting your eyes. 

Those eyes had always held the power to see through him, to strip away his carefully constructed exterior and expose the terrified child within, a child haunted by the horrors of the bombings. They roused something deep within him, something he couldn't quite comprehend. He was convinced it was hatred, an intense aversion to everything related to you. Yet, amidst the gaudy extravagance of this opulent sitting room, there was something more than hatred, a yearning, a need to possess you, not just in the pretence of a fabricated relationship, but for real.

“Nothing is wrong.”

"Bullshit," you retorted, your voice firm and unwavering. "You've been distant with me ever since that day in Tigris' dressing parlour. You refused to even acknowledge me the last time I saw you, couldn't even bring yourself to look at me."

He couldn't deny your accusation, for it was true. He had been avoiding you, intentionally keeping his distance, unable to face the tempest of emotions that your presence evoked within him.

"Have you considered that I find you repulsive and even looking at you gives me mental anguish?" he asked, his voice laced with sarcasm, a desperate attempt to deflect the attention away from his own turmoil.

"Okay, jackass," you sighed in exasperation. "I was actually trying to be nice to you here, even considering the possibility of being more amicable in the future, but clearly, that's an impossibility with you."

Standing up from your position, you straightened out your dress, your back turned to him. "I'm going to find my mother and then leave, and I don’t know how we will keep acting like we’re in love in public but we will." you declared, your voice seeming to echo in the room.

Before you could take a step away, Coriolanus' hand wrapped around your wrist. "You're hurting me," you exclaimed, struggling against his hold.

"What do you even want?" you demanded, spinning around to snatch his hand away, only to find yourself pulled down, landing directly into his lap.

You gasped in surprise, your body pressed against his, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through your senses. His eyes, those storm-filled pools, were inches from yours, their intensity almost hypnotic. There was something swirling in them that you had never seen him express before.

“God seriously, what is wrong with you? I don’t know why my mother insists on it being you! You are the most insufferable man I have ever met. Constantly talking down to me and trying to make me feel lesser. You need to sort yourself out.”

 Your voice raised, carrying into the hallway where he knew people were. He could hear their steps coming towards the door. 

He watched you, his expression unreadable, his fingers still tracing patterns on your waist. It felt so breakable under his touch, like he could squeeze it ever so tightly and it would shatter. Maybe that was what was wrong with him, his image was that of strength and yet you were so fragile. 

The reality was much harsher than that. He had never viewed you as a person before that day. You have been an obstacle or a pawn. Now he had to act as he loved you, craved you, desired you. Initially that was a hard ask, your very being was unpleasant to him, but since that day something had shifted in him. You were human now. And far too tempting. 

The handle of the door began to turn. The narrative needed to be made, actions taken, you both were here for a purpose tonight. 

His lips crashed into yours, more gnashing teeth than the delicate touch of a lover, a show of dominance and control. The frustration of this whole act and his loss of control bubbling to the surface and letting the anger out on you. You tried to pull away, speak to him maybe, but he pulled you back against him and with a hand on the side of your face pushed your jaw open letting him slip his tongue inside your mouth. It was wet and messy. His tongue running against the back of your top teeth before dancing with your own. The desire to consume you coming out on top.

“Oh my!”

He pulled away with a bite at your lip, hard enough to leave the both of you tasting blood.

A collection of Coriolanus' classmates from the Academy and a few notable members of high society, including both Festus and his father, stood at the now open french doors taking in the scene before them. 

Y/N Gaul draped across Coriolanus Snow’s lap engaged in a hot and steamy makeout session. You intricate updo half udon by his actions, both your breathing labour, red lipstick smudged around both your mouths. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights. You hadn’t heard anyone coming to the room too distracted by Coriolanus’ odd behaviour which was now explained. 

Coriolanus instantly snapped into character a charming smile spread across his face as he steadied a hand on your hip. 

“My apologies I wasn’t aware anyone would be using this parlour tonight.” He spoke with a lighthearted chuckle. “Miss Gaul was just simply breathtaking this evening.” 

Your name brought you back into the moment, the velvet of his voice soothing your panic. You moved to adjust his shirt and blazer back into place, an intimate gesture painting the two of you having a deeper relationship than people initially thought.

“Corio,” you chided gently “I told you that we needed to be careful.” 

“You're right my dear. I was overconfident, assuming we had a moment to ourselves. I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.” He slipped the handkerchief out of his pocket and began cleaning up your ruined lipstick. “Please give us just a minute and we will clear the room for you.” 

He finished cleaning you up and then stood, taking your hand in his. Some more apologies were given to the crowd as the two of you absconded away like teenage lovers that had just been caught. A trail of hushed whispers and lingering glances followed you out. You couldn’t catch everything but you heard one thing very clearly. 

“Well there goes the gossip that they hate each other.”

[bowieandqueen11]

Preening Peacocks / Sanji Imagine

Request: could you write a sanji x reader fic of zeff sitting the two of them down and basically saying that if they don't stop making heart eyes at each other he's going to have to separate them because it's getting in the way of work. cue them both promising to act more professional only to end up making out after the kitchen is closed. reader tries to protest because they should be going to bed but ends up giving in when sanji kisses her along the neck.

Ooooh this is both sweet and spicy, the perfect combination! ;)

Warning: slightly NSFW so 18+ please, a little strong language!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @leonerdnimoy.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

How Zeff hadn't lost his mind over the last ten years, he would never know.

He knew, of course. That you had a shared history - a shared past, a shared ordeal that he couldn't even begin to understand. Neither of you chose to talk about it much, the shared glances you shot each other as you shrugged off your past and chose, fought, clawed for tooth and nail, to create a new life for yourself out here in the Sambas Region was something he respected. Admired, even. The two of you shared a past, true, but starting over was a commonality the former Cook Pirate could stoutly understand.

He knows that he should go easier on the pair of you, too. He knew what he had signed up for, when he met you both storming onto the Orbit all those years ago; when he had saved your shivering, despondent lives up on that desolate crag. The two of you had always been close: inseparable, even, from huddling together day in and day out on that rock, to sharing a room and cooking side by side on the Baratie. He knew the two of you, in some ways, better than he knew himself: recognised the signs of yearning, of perpetual adoration from day one. And yet he still found himself two teaspoon clatters away from yanking the hair off of his face when yet another customer comes strutting up to him, demanding compensation for an abysmal lack of service.

'Get your arses in here- now!'

It took you a few seconds to register the voice thundering out from the impact door, too busy trying to fan your face with one of the carded menus you were trying to stack away; Sanji, on the other hand, heard Zeff just fine. He was too preoccupied, absentmindedly placing a few empty champagne flutes onto his tray, while stealing glances in your direction. If his eyelids fluttered any harder, the candlesticks on table twelve would go out in a blazing blast.

Zeff jabbed his thumb in Sanji's direction and then back towards the inside of the kitchen, anger creasing the already wrinkled lines of his forehead like mettled waves in a storm. Realising he couldn't ignore the old sod's words any longer, Sanji sauntered up behind you and pressed his chest against your back. 'I think he's talking to us, sweetheart', he breathed against the shell of your ear, sending goose bumps shooting down your neck as his slender fingers reached round to fall delicately over your own. With a nudge of his nose against the back of your head, he intertwined your fingers and led you towards the back of the room. His free arm settled comfortably around your waist, his eyes staying so squarely on your gaze that he almost tripped over the poor old couple from table two, who were staggering up to collect their coats.

Zeff's groan could be heard out on the ships docked in the Baratie's port, even through the slatted fingers that were covering his drooping face.

As soon as the two of you had plonked down on a couple of seats near the kitchen's 'office' table, Zeff pounced on the two of you like a ravished vulture.

'Look', he stamped over, one hand on the side of his hip and the other still holding the spoon he had been whisking up a fresh batch of meringue with. 'I don't care what the two of you get up to during your free time. In fact, if it's anything worse than what you've already been spotted doing on the floor, I don't want to know.' Sanji guffawed, settling his thighs down further into his seat.

'But the two of you are starting to cause trouble for the business', Zeff continued with a earnest glare in Sanji's direction, his words aimed directly at the sous chef. 'For my business.'

'Our business', Sanji retorted, chewing the inside of his cheek and pointing with a circling finger between the three of you.

'In my restaurant.' Zeff leant forward, his nostrils flaring in a manner that you know meant trouble, but to your surprise Sanji dropped the issue; he grinded his teeth, but chose instead to grip onto your hand underneath the table and hold it against his knee. He knew what he owed Zeff. If not for saving his own life, than, more importantly, for saving yours.

'Even our patrons are starting to relay back to me that you, little donkey-', he jabbed the whipped edge of his wooden spoon straight towards your chest, 'and you, little eggplant-', the spoon gets whisked with a firm buttered splat against Sanji's cheek, 'are flaunting around each other, front of house no less, like two preening peacocks!'

Sanji tilted his head in your direction, doing his best to not further anger the already irate chef by pretending he is not very subtly dropping his eyeline down past the bridge of your nose and landing on your cupid's bow.

The side of your irises met his, and he goes breathless.

To no one's surprise, the flirtation doesn't go over Zeff's head, no matter how hard he's rubbing it. With his pointer and middle finger rubbing his temples and half-covering the rimosed dark-circles under his eyes, Sanji took the opportunity to lean over the arm of your chair and leave a sweet kiss against your cheek with puckered lips. You could feel his smile as he pulled away, and in retaliation you pulled your intertwined fingers up to your lips and peppered a few kisses against his knuckles, clasping it against your chin in a tight lock.

He takes it as a challenge: who can shower the other in more affection, and the soft brushes of his nose against the tip of your own is only interrupted by the slam of Zeff's spoon planking down on the table.

'I've had to deal with this for near twenty years now, and I swear-'

'We're not even twenty, Zeff', you chimed in, attention still fully centred on the dazed look clouding Sanji's lovestruck face as he hovered in front of you, nearly out of his chair by the point and falling onto your lap.

'Yeah, stop being dramatic old man.'

Sanji's words are chiding, but the way he watched you - god, the way he always watches you, the way he spends his whole life helplessly contemplating you is so soft. So serene. So overwhelming. Even though his eyes have lidded, falling down to peer almost lasciviously at the seam of your mouth, his distracted eyes are still so filled with wonder. Whether he had been five years old, locked up inside his father's dank, damp old dungeon, wasting away in the corner as the whole of his kingdom celebrated his death. When you had come, slamming the lock open with a stone you had spent a full half an hour tugging out of the circular cobbled wall, he had clambered into your lap and shoved his face straight into your neck. He had refused to move, only interrupting his desperate sniffles by alternating clenching his tiny fists into your shirt, and tilting his head to the side so he could look up at the side of your face with a childlike bewilderment. That first streak of light brightening in his enamoured eyes.

Whether he had been nine years old, laying his head on your lap and waiting anxiously for the sun to bleach his bones up on that rock, he had still looked at you wonder. Had looked up at you as if you reflected all the pockets of starlight in the universe and stored them in his eyes, and he had been ready there and then to decay, as long as he could be weaved within your atoms for all eternity.

Whether he had been nineteen, sitting next to you at the Baratie's kitchen table with all the cosmos now in his eyes, and so, so deliriously in love with you.

'I mean it,' Zeff huffed, head seesawing between the two of you (which wasn't too far, since your faces were resting roughly one inch apart.). 'One more googly eyes look at each other, and you're both scrubbing barnacles off the dock for the next month.'

'That's alright with me old man, as long as we can share a plank seat.' Sanji winked teasingly in your direction, and you're not sure whose face turns more rubescent: your flushing cheeks, or Zeff's ruddy ears as steam starts pouring out of them in rolls.

'Table seven's still waiting for their appetisers. Go. Now. While the two of you are still teetering on my more charitable side.'

~

The rest of the service goes past in a flash. The sound of your chopping from the far corner of the kitchen is met only with the sound of Sanji's intent whisking from the other, and the occasional 'oi, stop that', from Zeff when he comes marching through and spots you and Sanji eyeing each other up over your respective bowls.

Sanji had to stop looking over at you. If you met his earnest side-eye one more time before you got off for the night, trying to look away from how furiously Zeff's moustache was swinging with each steaming word he muttered out during the rest of the service, you were going to collapse onto the kitchen floor in a fit of giggles.

Evidently, Sanji seemed to be having a similar thought, albeit with one exception: he was making it his life's mission to try and get you to break. That mischievous spirit - that light heartedness and ability to face trouble head on and grin in it's face was exactly the thing that had saved him all those years ago in the Germa Kingdom, back when he was a child. It was one of the things, still, from a list that could reach the bottom of the ocean floor and continue down to the core of the world, that he found endearing about you.

He wanted to hear the sound of your laughter for the rest of his life, for it was the most blissful sound in the world to his eager heart.

He made it his mission to try and distract you: with a flick of his tongue wetting his bottom lip, pretending it was a subconscious action, he let his biceps strain through his dress shirt with the force of his chopping. By the sound of his breathy moans every time he lifted up his sautéing pan to his nose to smell the fresh sprigs of rosemary intermingle with the diced potatoes, you could tell he was toying for your attention.

With the last few orders starting to roll in from the dispersing crowd of diners, Sanji braved out across the kitchen to 'accidentally' bump into you at the sinks. As his hip snapped against yours, he leaned his elbow up on the counter and turned his body fully towards you, until the the front of his apron was shoved up against your belly button and he could go no further. Leaning over you, he pressed the jut of his chin into the top of your head and looked towards the door to make sure the coast was clear.

'You know, sweetheart, if he heard the name you were calling me up in our room last night I swear we could make his stupid moustache fly clean off.'

The corners of your eyes were still tearing up by the time you made it back to your chopping station; the other chefs side-eyed you with merry-meant distaste each time your knife slipped over the outer peel of your garlic as your stomach doubled over in laughter.

You might have made it - you really might have, if you hadn't been able to hear the sweet little huffs emitting from Sanji's side of the kitchen at the same time. Sanji bit his bottom lip and ducked his head back down towards his trout, focusing on his skilful descaling to try and hide his laughter.

The next time he waltzes by with a white chocolate panna cotta, he grazes his hip and elbow in a way that was both a little too tantalisingly close to your side, and creates the perfect opportunity for you to latch onto his elbow and pull him down behind the counter.

'Why are we crouching sweetheart?' He was desperately trying to stifle his smile by catching his teeth against the side of his bottom lip, but he couldn't help the way the corners twitched up at the sight of how flustered you were.

'Because if Zeff catches us again, he'll feed us to the fishes Sanji!'

'Well, it's a good thing that was my last dessert for the night, isn't it my cherie? Because I'm also on clean up duty, and I've just signed you up for it as well.'

Before you could stop him, Sanji has jumped up and is already waltzing back out into the middle of the kitchen.

'Oi, Patty! What do you think you're doing! Y/n and I are on clean up duty tonight, you know - on account of-'

'The two of you being insufferable. Yeah, what's new.' The poor cook just shakes his head and turns his attention back to scouring the grease out of his saucepan.

'Come on', Sanji holds out his arms wide', 'don't you want to help true love's wings blossom? Or at least get some well deserved sleep - tell me the truth, when was the last time you worked less than double shifts. Zeff's wringing you out to dry, and you know it.'

'I don't think so, kid.' Patty's shoulders droop, but he thumps the last few suds out of his pan and hangs it back up on its hook. 'Chef's already warned us about you two, and he's not adding my head to the pile.'

'I don't get it', pipes up the latest addition to the Baratie chef team - a straggler pirate, who had tried his luck sneaking out the door without paying his bill, and had soon found his face sliding across the tile when Zeff's wooden leg had knocked him flying. He shakes out his hands and dries them off with a tea towel, before snorting and rubbing his nose with the linen. 'Why doesn't the guy just split these idiots up?'

'Because the last time he tried it, troublemaker here spilled a fresh pot of béarnaise sauce all over his apron and half of the floor.' Patty's tone is austere, but even as he wipes off the last bits of water from the steel edges of his counter's sink, he can't help but let a fond smile escape across his face. 'Before Zeff could even finish kicking him out, he was already through the door. Poor Chef nearly threw a fit when he went out twenty minutes later to find him, and he was sitting coddling on Y/n's lap behind the bar.'

'Yeah yeah yeah', Sanji laughs, sauntering over to the light switches behind the apron rack and knocking them off with an ostentatious throw of his arm. 'Goodnight, everyone!'

Patty sighs, but obliges. 'If Chef catches you, you're on your own', the man threatens with raised eyebrows as he walks out of the door Sanji props open with the toe of his shoe, but your boyfriend just shrugs light-heartedly.

'Subtle, by the way.'

Sanji pats the man's shoulder and grins. 'I can't help it if three's a crowd now, can I?'

As soon as the door sweeps to a close, your boyfriend's almost flown across the room to spin you around in his arms, your toes barely gracing the floor as he flings you about.

'Finally! Alone at last my love! Do you understand-', he interrupts himself with a kissing peck against your lips, 'how hard-, and another, 'it is to not kiss you every second of service?? I swear, it's torture!' From anyone else the sentiment may have sounded churlishly facetious, but from Sanji the words were so sincere that it almost made your heart melt into a pool of butter by his feet.

'Sanji, we really should get to bed. If Zeff catches us, we're going to be sent out on restroom attendant duty again', you groan, doing your best but hardly succeeding in trying to unlatch Sanji's ravishing hands from off your sides. Instead, his arms wrap tightly around your spine and his palms flatten against your back as he holds you against his thuddering heart.

'My precious life, from what I can remember, you got us back onto the main floor pretty quickly.' His lips land heavily on the top of your head, and you can't help the coarse shockwave of pleasure that floods through your body at the feel. Languidly, he allows his lips to slip down your forehead, softly tilting your head back so he can sweetly lick a wet trail down the side of your cheek.

'That's because Zeff got tired of arguing with me', you huff out, but you don't complain when you feel Sanji's hands roam down to cup the joints between your upper thighs and buttocks. With a hoarse pant against the side of your chin, his fingers dig into the meat and pull your legs up to his waist. You oblige, and allow him to pick you up and delicately place you back down on the sink counter.

'See, no problem!', his lips twitch as he walks between your opening legs, settling himself firmly against your groin as you wrap your ankles in a cross behind his legs. You nip playfully at his earlobe, and he swears he's about to pass out.

With short, panted breaths, he manages to finish his thought. 'Besides, that's why he calls you little donkey, isn't it? Because you always kick back.' His lips ghost a chuckle over the pulse point throbbing on your neck, and you have to do your best to clench your thighs together to stop yourself from whimpering.

'Is this alright, sweetheart?', he asks breathlessly, swiping the flat tip of his tongue out against a sensitive spot, one he knows lies right above your collar bone.

'God- yes', you reply, gripping some curls by the nape of his neck and tugging. 'I've been waiting to do this all bloody day.' He whines, his lips reverberating the sound so its muffled against the side of your neck.

That won't do. That won't do at all. You want to hear all the pretty sounds Sanji can make. Want to make him feel as loved: as wanted, as revered as he's made you feel your whole life.

In reprisal, you snake your hand down, making sure to capture his whimpers with your open, awaiting mouth as your fingers scratch over the taut muscles of his abdomen. When you finally reach down to cup the growing pressure straining against his trousers, he bucks forward against you and nearly knocks your teeth out.

His whimpers are drowned out by muttered, fervent, worried apologies, but you only giggle and silence him with a supplicating kiss.

'But we really should stop and go to bed, Sanj. We make enough trouble around here as it is.' You say the words, but you don't really mean them. Not when you can feel the tip of his finger run slowly... slowly... god! So agonisingly slowly up your inner thigh as he folds the bend of your ear over with a crushing kiss, his lips falling open clumsily as his inner mouth drags plumply across your temple, before running down to suck at your neck.

'Stop? I can barely stop thinking about you, every waking and sleeping second of my day. But if you want to stop, I will my sweet. I'd do anything in the world for you.'

You cup his face with your hands, and with a smile bring him down so you can rest the side of your cheek against his own burning one. He can feel his chest flittering at the feel of your stretching smile burning against his skin: at the feel of your legs tightening their vice around his thighs until he had stumbled forward, body fully resting atop your own now.

'Don't you dare stop now', you giggle. 'I kind of want to see Zeff's mustache fly off, now that I think about it.'

The sound of your and Sanji's roaring laughter is interrupted by the crash of the swing door against the wall, and the looming shadow of the Head Chef trembling up the rocking ceiling.

'Right, forget scraping barnacles. The two of you are going to be swimming with them in a minute!'

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝐴𝑟𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑, 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝐴𝑟𝑒 𝑆𝑒𝑒𝑛

A/N(1): Considering Gaming is pretty much like me in every aspect and a weird sagau-like thing happened to me where, whenever I make a 10 pull, I always get Gaming and now baby boy is C5 already( THREE of them were on the same pull btw), and that we need to spread more love for him... Here I am with this impulsive piece of work that suddenly came to my mind where us, the reader who is the Creator of Teyvat and all the universes, descends only for him and IS the one who grants Vision to people. (Visions are not some shitty way of controlling people here)

A/N(2): I know Lantern Rite is over but damn, did I loose inspiration to finish this so soon so, I divided this into two parts.

Warnings: Spoilers for Lantern Rite and Gaming's backstory, Reader giving good parenting advice and literally being a grandma who would slap someone with a slipper and commit homicide for children, communication problems between parents and children.

"I think the Creator isn't too fond of me y'know?"

Lumine and Paimon sweated at the mention of your name, the former one rubbing his defeated shoulders for comfort as she looked at her companion.

Paimon worriedly looked up where her mother was as she floated above Gaming, the now peaceful and serene Celestia floating above them with the rightful owner in it. After gathering all your essences back and helping you come back once again - and learning that her emergency food was actually the Creator's daughter-, Lumine had the chance of meeting you quite a lot actually.

The reason for it was pretty simple: Lumine and Paimon had become inseparable.

They had been travelling together for years, all alone with only having each other to rely on. Sure, they made great friendships over the years and they were always happy to reunite with them whenever possible... But none of them could come with them on their journey.

Especially since it was unknown when exactly it would stop.

But although they thought to be alone as they discovered the truth about both Lumine and her brother's story and Paimon's origins... Lumine knew they weren't really all by themselves in such a vast and seemingly endless world.

She could feel it in her soul... With the warmth that never left her ever since she woke up near that shore, the one that had never left her even if she was starting to loose hope, always pushing her to fight for one more day.

There was no way you wouldn't love one of your own child.

"Ahhh... Why do you think so, Gaming? Have you done something to offend Her?" Paimon asks cautiously, with a hint of softness Lumine rarely heard since she was often sarcastic just as you were, as she patted his head warmly with worried eyes. This was one of the rare times that Lumine really saw You in her, that Paimon had more than one thing common with You.

Except Your love for food, that is.

She, better than anyone, knew how You were, after all, as a daughter... She felt your unconditional love even when she had no recollection of, well... Everything that happened.

Even when she didn't know what or who she was, she knew one thing clear: The Creator loved Her creations so dearly... The one on the throne could never be Her.

"Uhhh, Paimon really doesn't think so! Her Highness is known to be so loving and kind and also supportive of Her creations-" she nervously stuttered, looking up to where you were supposed to be as she gave as much comfort as she can. She didn't need to be an expert to know that most of the people in Teyvat adored their Creator, and all of them respected You for... every single thing You did for them.

Including setting new Heavenly Principles to ensure peace all across Teyvat, after millenias of destruction caused by the Usurper which tainted the soil, the very core of Teyvat and the souls of people and gods alike.

Gaming, of course not surprisingly, was one of those who admired you the most. Chenyu Vale, after all, was known for their tea and tea ceremonies, especially those of Adepti and the Creator. The stories of your both heroism and creation was one thing told throughout the land... And then there was the parental ones they had heard and read about thanks to their Archon, Gods and Adepti wanted to preserve for Your and their sake...

To remember those peaceful times they all used to sit with You and eat, drink to their heart's content as they shared stories and what they had been doing with their humans... Before either Barbatos or Menogias and Bosacius "ruining it" with their banter and over all "idiocy" with one of them begging to drink wine with You while the other two argued about the fact that Bosacius shouldn't enter where you are, alongside the ladies, practically half-naked as a mean of respect.

Menogias was not the one describing such events with much disdain, it was Rex Lapis' rather "dislike" towards a certain God of Freedom as those who read your stories sweated awkwardly at his descriptions of " that drunkard who wouldn't stop hogging the Creator all to himself and had no brains too actually give a thing for rules"... All the while You cackled with the "ladies" at the back with a comedic look on your face, betting on how many tries it would take for them to finally agree.

It was good old days... that seemed far, far away from reach as the years passed and now Teyvat was becoming another version of itself, one that You would be proud of no matter what.

Safe to say, most people praised your name and prayed to You through those ceremonies. Liyue and Chenyu Vale were the one who was perhaps the earnest with their belief, and the tea leaves they were proud to grow with Your blessing...

And with the dim-sum they had as a breakfast, to reminisce and pay respect to You and all the Gods who dined with You above the sky once.

But back to the modern days, where three youngsters were having a meltdown for different reasons...

Gaming, because he just told them- two once strangers and now his friends- his biggest secret and insecurity after his problems with father.

Paimon who almost bawled her eyes out from sadness because of the drop of his head like a kicked puppy at the slight sign of his insecurity of failing her mother.

Lumine, because these two were being total dummies and she was wondering how the hell Paimon could be related to You, who was always the logical one and always choose the rational side of things.

"I-I know that, and trust me, I am very grateful to be acknowledged by Her but... Well, I mean, I am surely in no position to complain but life wasn't the easiest for me. Especially since I chose to indulge in Wushou Dancing. You guys already know my story and... And I'm afraid that I didn't satisfy Her with how I failed at making Wushou Dancing popular-"

Gaming ranted in one breath, his face contorting in pain, both from the possibility of such thing being true and from being breathless, as he looked like a kicked puppy with his huge brown eyes from where he stood in front of the petite blond, who stared at him with a confused and troubled look.

" Woah, woah! Easy there, calm down, Gaming... So you think she is upset because of... This?"

Lumine couldn't help but frown while pointing at him and back to his vision, confusion and slight worry clouding her golden eyes as Gaming gulped and looked at her through his lashes, head turning away and eyes trailing over to stare over the tea fields. She only hoped he didn't think it was because she was belittling his worry, but rather, she didn't understand why he worried.

You were always so proud of your creations, did they really not know this?

"Uhm, y-yeah? Why wouldn't She be? She saw potential in me to make it so popular and well-liked by people yet, hehe... Here I am, as a complete failure. Just like my dad predicted..." He rubbed the back of his neck embrassed, sweating from the nervousness at the intense glare the duo was giving to him.

Logically thinking, he knew there was absolutely no way of knowing anything about the Creator, especially something as trivial as this. Both because of a) you must be too busy to care for such a small and childish thing and b) you were the Creator, how were you not supposed to love what you made?

But poor boy's insecure mind was too consumed by the self-hatred he had kept inside for so long that it started to consume hım whole... Enough to question everything he had been taught all of his life, questioning himself for the first time ever since that day if all these struggles were worth it.

Paimon, seeing and having a guess at his state, quickly budged in to divert his attention elsewhere.

"B-But I am sure that mot- I mean, Her Highness didn't bless you with a Vision and showed her favor while expecting something in return!" Paimon suddenly shot up to the air, her short legs kicking at the air angrily as her face was contorted in pure anger for the way he was thinking. And Lumine, for the first time ever since meeting her, cold sweated because of how scary she looked at the moment.

"But..." Gaming sighed dejectedly, coming down from the shock of her sudden burst, head hung low and feeling the familiar sting of his eyes of many nights he spent alone on his bed and looking back to his decisions, trying to determine if he regretted them or not, thinking about his beloved mother and Creator...

And what you both must be thinking of him.

Had he... Failed both of you?

You, who created the whole world with so much love, "The Mother of All" and his own mother, who never shied away from showing her support to him even when his father was angry at her for "spoiling" him...

"But..." he couldn't help but get frustrated at himself, and the tears gathered at the corner of his eyes. How long was he going to act like a kid? How much more would he trouble others because of his problems, much like he was doing now to even his new friends that he just met? He knew he kind of failed at his biggest dream, although his stubborn father didn't know about it just yet and he intended for it to stay that way...

Actually saying it out loud made him realize how... futile, his hardwork had been.

He really didn't make any progress at all, huh?

Before he could get any other self-deprecating thoughts, he contiued with gritted teeth as shame slowly filled him and he moved to get up. "...I was given a Vision because of my ambition to make Wushou Dancing popular in Liyue Harbor, at least that's how I see it although I know not everyone's jumping at watching it... And if I can't make it come true then..."

Another dejected sigh as his hand subconsciously went to his Vision, feeling its comforting warmth as he clutched the glass orb tightly. He always believed that the Visions' warmth, apart from containing the aspirations of the holder, had always had a part of you as well... That the comforting warmth that accompanied him much like other holders, was because of your love and hopes for them. To see what path they would carve for themselves while watching over them...

And there was no way he made anyone proud with what he had become. His relatives? They didn't particularly care about him, they couldn't, right? And his father was another story with the restless and hurtful quarrels they used to have every day, especially after his mother's death. He wouldn't even talk to him, yet alone look at his face, why would he care to come looking for his son?

How would a young boy like him ever know that the reason his father couldn't look at him in the eyes was because he was also reminded of his mistakes and hurtful words he uttered towards his own father when he was his age? How would he know that his own father, though he didn't show himself like that, lacked the way to express his guilt to his own son that he hadn't seen in a long time?

How would he know that his own father was drowning in his own guilt, but too afraid to say anything to his son when he too, was drowning himself in guilt and self-hatred?

His, and unknown to him... his dad's, mind was clouded with their own sadness, all the while never leaving their eyes from the clear sky while Paimon's and Lumine's worried eyes were on Gaming's melancholic ones, as the duo shared a stare only they could understand... with a question after years of being on Teyvat suddenly popped inside their mind.

That they had to reach to you as soon as possible...

And learn how the Vision-giving process actually worked.

"Then, what am I?"

Meanwhile, up in Celestia, you were merrily decorating your place in Liyue themes, since the Lantern Rite night was coming closer, and watering the many plants you had as a gift from your children was taking too long, you opted to keep yourself busy with humming a soft tune.

Completely and blissfully unaware of the chaos in Liyue.

But you know what they say: A mother intuition always works and is always right.

"Hmm... My mom senses are tingling yet once again. Could it be my daughter?" You curiously asked to yourself, a slight worry deep in your heart as you walked back to your throne room to check on her and her companion, the music still blasting inside your head.

Those "earphones" your Fontanian kids called, was really something else as they blasted of your son Barbatos' one of the many ballads, only requiring a magical jade to store that tune. Perhaps you could visit your son and see how they are all doing after that whole Usurper ordeal?

"My children truly exceeded my expectations... If only they didn't nearly destroy Khaenri'ah all those years ago, give them a very unnecessary curse and give me one week of detailed work before the new year..." You couldn't help but sigh out "tiredly" and crack your back, rubbing your neck as you opened the huge white gates of the throne room.

Khaenri'ah, your dear children, were unfortunately caught between the crossfire of Celestia and the misled Archons, getting either killed or cursed with monstrosity and immortality. With yet another scheme of the corrupted Heavenly Grounds combined with them being too blind from their greed, the evil surged to the surface near Khaenri'ah and thus... since the only God they believed in was you, the biggest enemy of the Second... They were nearly destroyed completely.

But now, after a very brutal battle on the very same grounds you now peacefully walked on, Teyvat and your children were finally free with no blood of them dripping to the ground. You gave a new hope, a new world where people would thrive and live in harmony.

Children no longer in pain and crying, not being without parents...

Mothers never having to cry for their fallen children and fathers going mad...

However, just like you always thought of your children... They didn't hesitate to surprise you, and on some occasions scare you, with their quirks... It was only natural to be scared for your children, most importantly your baby, right?

Listening to the conversations of your daughter and Lumine with their other companions had always been a joyful experience for you, even when you were yet to take a form and were shackled. Often they joked with each other, or threw sarcastic quips at each other much to your amusement as you saw yourself in your daughter as clear as the day.

With how easygoing and cheerful their conversations would often be, you didn't think there was anything alarming happening as you looked into our orb.

There were times even you, the Mother-of-All, were left speechless...

As soon as the foggy and disturbed watery surface of your orb cleared out with a wave of your hand, and you were able to see the worried eyes of your dear vessel and daughter looking at a young boy with red and brown hair, their conversation made your mom senses 100 times worse.

"Gaming... Are you okay? Did you sleep well? You look like you are about to fall asleep any time!"

"Not really. Just yesterday, I stayed up all night playing cards..."

"Huh? Stayed up all...night? Isn't that- Isn't that a bit concerning for humans?" You worriedly asked your royal guard as he shook his head just as worriedly from behind you, although disguised it better than You did as you repeatedly looked between him and the orb, picked on your lips and pulled on it in worry as if it could somehow make you understand what you just heard.

He wasn't the Mother of All, after all. It wasn't in his nature to worry about the young ones.

"This boy... He surely doesn't give a single care about his health! I didn't create sleep for humans for nothings! One thing they need for completely resting and-and look at this! Unacceptable!" You groaned with a deep, threatening tone, angry and not understanding why humans tried to go against their nature like that, hands on either sides of your hips as you stared at Gaming's reflection and see... Just how really tired his soul was.

Going between a great dilemma for his future, a hard time for him, one that hangs heavily upon his shoulders and the soul you crafted quite carefully and gently.

What was it that made a boy so young such as him so deeply upset that it affected him deep to his core?

Yet... Made him still so sweet and... pinchable?

"Hmm... They seem to be getting along well nonetheless." you affectionately expressed with a hand under your chin, trying to be still positive, lovingly looking at the content smiles of all three children as your daughter feasted upon food after food and was being spoiled to no end by none other than Gaming himself.

The young boy's willingness to pay for everything and not "disturb" other's, even if he earned that Mora in the hard way, impressed you and his kindness and easygoing side was something you had never seen in a human before.

And considering you were the Creator, that said a lot by itself.

But still... His way was one that could be considered as... "Self-destructive", one that rang the alarms of a troubled childhood even from miles away, and also one which needed to be stopped at one point.

Even if it required the two most essential weapons of a mother: "The Mom Voice" and "The Slipper".

Your thoughts were cut short when you saw your daughter's shy yet puffed out cheeks as Gaming cooed at her, you couldn't help but chuckle as well, leaning down over the orb with both hands on your cheeks and heart combusting and running up the walls from the sudden surge of love you felt for the three young children as the other two coddled your daughter, in their own ways of course.

Aww, a fed Paimon is a happy Paimon, huh?

"And just like that, Gaming is her new favourite friend." You giggled at Paimon's flushed cheeks from the orb you watched, Lumine's smug yet peaceful smile after all the traumatic events she went through brightening your face. Gaming's bright smile wasn't so behind on the race of "radiance", his eyes twinkling in happiness at Paimon's happy and wide smile, feeling proud with himself that he was the reason she was a full and happy child at that moment.

That was exactly what you wanted for your children and people to have: Get along well with each other, learn from each other as everyone experienced the world you served beneath their feet... Not fight for their lives in greed and selfishness.

You sighed in relief when you realized that they were fine and happy, a bit tired perhaps from the hard work earlier but still... They were finally being what they were supposed to be from the beginning as they joked together already.

Two teens and a child, though the latter was questionable since Paimon has been there ever since "the Beginning".

"Gaming is one unique boy, just like many of Your creations, Your Highness... Easily well-loved, and befriended even by 'two outsiders'."

You absentmindedly nodded, you attention straying away from the scene before your eyes as you looked at one of the pillars of Celestia in deep thought.

It was no shocker that humans were... weird, in the eyes of other gods.

You created them with compensation and empathy, with the need to socialise and friend others in their journey. The way they would do it, however, entirely depended on their choices and often times, even when shackled, you watched them in amazement with the different routes they had taken with their life.

Some gods didn't want to question your authority, but couldn't help the questions linger in their minds: Why would you built paths for them when you knew the end? When you knew how they would act?

Well, that was the question forbanother day...

But even with knowing it all, Gaming's behaviour shocked even You, who was the one to set the order.

The sixteen-year-old just... gave and gave and gave at an alarming speed, without ever stopping... Without even asking for anything in return.

That wasn't good at all... A person who gives and gives, who is very self-sacrificing with absolutely zero care about their own emotions, trying to gain people's gratitude so that they would continue the relationship/ friendship, definetly experienced a situation where they felt... Invalidated for their feelings.

And You saw it... Even your daughter, who loved food and tea more than anything, hesitated to accept his request for more food and treats to eat after all the things he bought for her.

But in the end, she was just a child. A child who loved treats, especially if it came from someone else.

"You really liked it, huh?... You know what? I'll buy you a whole bunch and pile them so high, you could swim in 'em!"

"You... You noticed what Paimon likes?" you could hear the slight wavering of your little baby's voice as a gentle smile overtake your whole face, your insides filling up with an unexplainable need to crush her to your chest with many kisses all over her chubby cheeks... Although what he said he would do was a bit impossible.

You always knew your daughter had a very soft heart behind her "ugly nickname giving ceremonies" or her sarcastic answers, even when she unintentionally ( or not, at least when she saw someone she didn't like) spoke too much and too loud.

Lucky of her that she had people who loved her anyways.

It seemed Gaming and Lumine also thought the scene to be wholesome as they both smiled with closed eyes at her obviously touched state, Lumine snickering under her breath as Paimon sniffled and blushed while glancing away from Gaming, who also supported a brotherly smile at her.

"Wait... Seriously? Paimon was just joking, you don't have to do... that!... But if you are going to get us something anyways, we would much rather have Winter Melon Cake instead! And you said you hadn't eaten it for so long, so Paimon calls it a win-win."

"Ah, don't mention it! Just think of this as a thank you for all your help." He waved his hand dismissively as he prepared to leave, doubts and anxiety still swirling in his eyes and soul. Yet, he hid all those behind a warm smile and saddened, downcasted eyes.

But there were things he couldn't hide from one entity...

"Besides, the thing between me and my family... It's a long story. It might take some time to tell. You get all hungry in the meantime as I prepare everything, goodbye!"

With that, Gaming sprintered away from the two travellers who looked from behind him with perplexed eyes. Poor Lumine couldn't understand what had just happened, with both Gaming's "story" and the way he abruptly ran away.

Paimon was busy with getting agitated, having had enough, though.

Fortunately, they weren't the only ones who felt that way... Although Paimon's reasons were different than You and Lumine.

"Is he underestimating Paimon? Hah! The audacity! She is just gonna have to show him how much-"

"Paimon could eat, perhaps?"

"Mama!"

Paimon's angry rambling and flapping of her cape ceased, her happily exclaiming as her eyes lightened up with stars when she zoomed in to where you were waiting for her with a closed eyes smile, leaving a trail of constellations in her excitement, head slightly tilted and arms wide open for her to come crashing into and nuzzle to your warm chest.

It had been such a long time after all, the last time you were peacefully together being Sumeru where you had been hiding to gather all your powers back and lead Lumine to where you were.

After a very emotional reunion, answering a lot of questions about the creation in general and the Abyss and Celestia, saving the Sumeru (as in entirety) and their Archon who was apparently your freakin' granddaughter who was very eager to finally meet her grandmother whose voice was the only thing she was able to hear in her dream...

All of you decided to wait for a bit more until everything settled and this silent war was over, to "descend" onto a very much so eagerly waiting Teyvat and declare Paimon as your youngest daughter.

Oh the amount of war flashbacks some people would have because holy shit, they treated and even insulted her- the Creator's child- so badly, they were sure they would get a very torturing punishment...

"Hello, Your High-" A hard, yet teasing, stare of your starry eyes was all it took for Lumine to sweat anxiously and correct herself with a shy smile, cheeks flushing at your serious yet still soft eyes. It wasn't in your nature to chide and get mad easily, although your eldest children would beg to differ about the previous one. However, for your dear ones, they didn't have to use such honorifics when you were all tightly knitted through the fate you let happen.

Besides, Lumine was just so cute with her bashful forgetfullness of adressing you casually, even when you often reminded her.

"Y/N... I hope you have been fine lately?" You hummed pleasantly as you nodded, patting your daughter's back as she nuzzled to your neck for warmth with a toothy smile.

"Hmm... I really was, thank you Lumine. I hope your journey on Chenyu Vale wasn't so harsh?" You inquired with a turn of your body, the floral designs on your dress and the edge of your long sleeves flowing as if they were slowly moving and your mighty crown standing on your head, shining blindingly and setting fear on enemies.

But it only amazed her further, making her stare at you for the power you held in amazement and how easily you could destroy everything and yet, chose not to.

"It was not as harsh as it was then Inazuma's, it was quite pleasing." She answered after a few seconds of pondering, making you laugh out awkwardly and sweat as she smiled kindly at you, knowing how you still held yourself to blame for what Ei had done to both of them and her own people.

I couldn't show her the right path when she needed her mother the most... Of course, I'm one of the people to blame...

That was what you said when you witnessed the pain Ei's grief and twisted thinking of "Eternity" caused to her people. Grief... Grief often blinded logic and the truth right in front of people, which resulted in unwanted situations and the hurt innocent people would have to face.

The sight of lightining scars across Lumine's petite body, a crestfallen look painted with grief raking through her body as your soft hands slowly touched her scars that you offered to heal... You never felt more disgusting and a failure than you did at the moment.

To which she always replied with " They do not hurt anymore, Your Grace..." with a tight and secure squeeze of her hands over yours as she hugged you, the Creator who felt immense guilt for something that happened out of Their control, because of the wrong doing of something else.

A Creator that felt sadness and compassion for one of Their creations so openly...

"Ah, apologies once again... I wish it was just as pleasant as it was with Liyue and Mondstadt but you know-" you shut yourself up with a forced cough, not wanting to remind her of her bad experiences as you stared at her golden eyes, to which she averted eyes and looked at the horizon bashfully under Paimon's judging eyes.

She really better had a little talk with her about Lumine's treatment towards her mother... Before something else came to her mind.

"Mom... There is something Paimon wants to ask your help with!" She excitedly chirped as she got out of your hold and made a flip, kicking her legs as you laughed out at her energy. It wasn't every day that she would ask something from you, especially that happily as if her request was a bright idea.

"Of course, darling of mine. What is it?"

"It's about Ga-Ming and his family!"

Lumine's smile froze on her face as she nervously looked at Paimon, fiddling with her fingers while hinting at her to stop, to which Paimon ignored. "I don't think it is our place to do something about his family, Paimon."

It wasn't that she didn't want to help him, she did. She already loved Ga-Ming and his energetic bursts, how he was always ready to lend a helping hand. She already considered him to be a friend and as his friend, of course she wanted him to be happy.

She knew the value of family more than anyone else, especially after loosing it, but... She was also aware that some things were supposed to stay between family and solved by them, not by some outsiders.

However, it seemed that Paimon had other ideas. As she started to reject Lumine's idea, saying how much he helped them and gave them and that they had to repay back some way, you raised a brow in question at their banter.

You already had a brief idea of what was going on with his family, courtesy of having 15 children directly related to you with different personalities, and what the problem between the father and son was, but it wouldn't hurt to hear it from them.

"Do you mean his father, sweetheart?"

She nods enthusiastically when Lumine budges in to cut her talk. "Yes, Y/N... But I do think that his problem runs a little bit deeper than we can help him with..."

You nodded at her understandingly, knowing the miscommunication going on has been prolonged far longer than it was necessary. Children often didn't notice much, didn't accept or wanted to accept their parents' expectations of them. They wanted to fly with their own wings, even if it could hurt them at first.

The parents didn't make it easy for them either and most of the times... They didn't want to accept their children wanting to go away and be themselves.

And as a result, both sides would drift apart until the other saw from their point of view, not caring that one wanted freedom and the other wanted safety and security for the other, even if it ended with their child angry at them. As long as they were safe and sound to do so... It was all that would matter, even if it seemed like a disrespect in the eyes of the child.

The stubborness of each side would only result in a distance that would severe the bond more and more with each passing day.

Perhaps... All they needed was a little nudge for them to see what both sides were loosing while they were drowning in their own stubborness?

"You are right, Lumine... However, there is nothing that could not be changed with a little help and a nudge towards the right." You hum with a hand over your chin, forefinger tapping your cheek in thought as you cross your arms over your chest. You soon broke out in a smile, having made your mind as you happily made a little jump.

"I shall help you two achieve your goal! The New Year is coming up and I do not wish any of my children to enter a new year full of new chances while being sad and alone."

You would make sure of that.

[mschievousx]

now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

epilogue

london air has never suited her. she could not put a name on it, but it was not like home—neither was her dorm, to be honest. hence, she found herself walking the streets one good morning.

she has always wanted to go to that art museum nearby but could not find the time to do so. university sucks, she gathered, but does love her program wholeheartedly. she really should not have been on this field though. engineering and astrophysics, perhaps, but they were harder to reach and unpractical. it is not to say she does not love what she does currently.

entering the place, she could not count how many times she already whispered magnificent in her mind. the structure, the artworks, the architecture—everything.

but, more than that, the girl was in love with art. she could not create her own, for heaven's sake, but she does love it.

so, she made sure to wander around to the fullest. the least she could do was appreciate others' works. of course, there were paintings she did not feel much—good thing she was alone though or else the girl has already yapped about it. she continued to go in deeper in the exhibit, admiring the genius of multiple artists. some were even hundreds of years ago.

she always found it unfair how we could preserve objects for hundreds of years but find it awfully hard to reach a hundred years ourselves. the things that are made outlive the creator. it was utterly unfair, but she thought.

perhaps, art was not meant for the present but for the future. it was made, not for the current eyes but for someone in the years to come.

in that sense, art is a form of communication through time. a kind of time travel, per se.

it was quite similar to schrödinger's cat. you could be present and absent at the same time. and that's exactly what she thought before her eyes landed on a huge painting.

she read its label, which was quite brief compared to the others, only containing the name, the artist, the medium, and the year created.

the execution of lady loraine silva

benedict bridgerton, 1815

"such a sad painting." she muttered unknowingly out loud. the girl was taken by it, intimately observing the details of the artwork.

"with a sad story too."

a voice added beside her. she turned to the man with friendly eyes as they both stand in front of the painting, admiring it. she pouted at that, the exhibit only placed the name of the works and no description at all.

maybe, it was a well-known art that does not even need to be explained as it speaks for itself, which she had to agree it did speak for itself. she was almost embarrassed that her being uncultured is showing.

"i am afraid i do not know the story well."

the man turned to her with intrigue—not that his interest was not already piqued before he even stood beside her. his eyes shined at that. he loved nothing more than to talk about the things he is well-knowledgeable.

"lady loraine silva is an eighteen-year old who was executed along with her father's second-in-command, colonel montague, for high treason."

she looked at him as she listened, lips parting in surprise, "oh, wow. i'd have to agree with you then. that's a really sad story—at a very young age too!"

he nodded with closed eyes as he continued, "benedict bridgerton, the artist, is said to be her lover. he finished the painting just weeks after the execution happened."

"damn," she whispered, letting her sight fall on the artwork again, "so much grief on a single painting."

"this letter is written by him." he stepped forward, gesturing to the letter incased in a glass near the painting before turning to her.

she followed his lead, walking near to read the two hundred years old paper.

give me your permission and i will continue to love you in another. believe that i will run amock across the universe until i find you.

and so, when you see the world ending in the newspapers, trust that it is my work because i still have not met you again.

she pursed her lips after reading, the man beside her actively watching her reaction. it was immensely sorrowful that she could feel the torment they must have been at that time.

she did not want to lose hope though. that was not her. so, she raised her eyes at him with a shine.

"the world is not ending. perhaps, he found her already."

his eyes widened just quite a bit, lips parting by her exceptional thought before a warm smile settled on his features, "perhaps."

she grinned widely—it was almost childish.

she let her gaze fall back on the paintaing across them both, a comfortable silence between them. it was amazing, really. people are so much in tune with their emotions.

"luke thompson."

the man beside her spoke once again. he introduced charmingly, putting a hand forward.

"francine silva."

she did not think twice in grasping it—and as she did, she could almost recognise him. she could almost tell he was somebody that she used to know.

"a relative?" his brows raised in surprise followed by a chuckle as he gestured to the painting, "you cannot possibly be a descendant because... well."

francine laughed genuinely, the sorrow of the art in front of them completely forgotten, "you'd be surprised at the amount of people in the world who have that surname."

she continued, gesturing to the exhibit around them, "do you work here? you know an awful lot about the artworks."

"you'd be surprised at the amount of people who work here and don't know a thing about these all." his familiar lopsided grin showed.

he was effortlessly funny as the girl jokingly narrowed her eyes to the workers who had their backs on the two.

he chuckled as he clarified, "i am an actor."

"really? that's amazing!" her mouth was agape at that, shrugging off her earlier thoughts.

ah, maybe that's why he looked familiar earlier.

the silva pouted right after, "i apologise i do not recognise you. i don't watch much telly nowadays."

luke shook his head dismissively as if saying it was not a problem at all, "you don't have to apologise. i am in theater and plays more anyway."

she gushed at the mention, "oh, i love plays!"

he beamed at her excitement, placing his fingers below his chin as if in deep thinking, "let me guess what you do. i am quite good at this."

she laughed at him acting serious with the game he started himself as he leaned to her for closer observation, "something related with arts?"

she blew a sigh, seemingly sulking, "i still can't even paint."

he stepped back at that, crossing his arms with a teasing judging look, "well, why are you here then?"

"can't i be an enjoyer of it even if i can't do it myself?" she rolled her eyes at his accusing tone before she continued, pulling a face, "i am on a break. if i look at cells, muscles, and neurons from my textbook for another second, i will die."

"ah, medical school then." he stated with confidence as the girl nodded begrudgingly.

"well, since you're on a break," luke began with a genuine smile as he playfully blocked her view of the artwork in front, offering his hand, "francine silva, what do you say for a quick tea?"

she beamed at him, her eyes shining like how the stars did one strange night during the regency period. she placed her own hand at the care of his.

"i thought you'd never ask."

they both knew they had to exit the museum together. they did not understand it, of course, but they may have felt it.

they may have recognised each other by touch alone. now and then.

perhaps, he was indeed somebody she used to know.

curious—how many people must have been listening to music they made in their previous lives, read books they do not remember writing.

how many people must have stared at their own art in museums with no recollection of the pain they had to go through to create that.

luckily, they stumbled upon each other today, just like they had three times before.

once in eighteen-fifteen.

once in eighteen-ninety-four.

once in nineteen-fourty-five.

perhaps, their love would be a little less painful this time.

taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks @perseny @everavenclaw @datingbtr @peetahpahkah @myo11 @idek-what-to-put @aysamuka

[essycogany]

SonAmy Headcanons

Because why not.

This is how I personally see their relationship. I’ll try to keep it somewhat accurate to how they’d act canonically. I’d say where they are now is great, but I’d like to add a few things. Some of these may or may not be influenced by other amazing creators.

You are free to steal if you want.

Sonic and Amy mostly act like a couple in private areas or when they think no one is paying attention. They might tell a few of their friends, but often try to keep things discreet. Even if their overall relationship isn’t different in a third person’s perspective.

Tails: “You two sure you’re not still friends or are you actually together?”

Sonic And Amy: “Yes!”

Sonic’s the most chill and casual boyfriend and shows a good amount of affection. Amy is an overjoyed and loving girlfriend who shows a huge amount of affection.

Amy does her best to not tell most people about her and Sonic. Making an effort to call him her “best friend.” Sonic doesn’t mind it much, even saying it’s “not a big deal.” Leaving Amy confused.

Sonic tells whoever he feels like telling that Amy’s his girlfriend without thinking and thinks it’s funny when she’s shocked about it.

The hedgehogs are unsure of what normal couple standers are. They usually already know what works for them. Except who they should tell.

Sonic shows affection by kissing Amy on the hand and hugging her. When feeling extra, he carries her and takes her out on a run. Amy shows affection by constant cheek kissing, hugging, and ear rubbing. (which he pretends to not enjoy but does.)

Examples:

These and basically everything that happened between them recently are what I have in mind in terms of physical affection.

Instead of kissing they touch each other’s cheeks.

Sonic (being a casual boyfriend) puts his arm around Amy’s shoulder indistinctively in public.

Both hedgehogs forget how they got together. All they remember is it happening.

They enjoy having tea with Cream in order to hang out more. And to spend time with Cream of course.

Amy instantly starts cooking more food after Sonic finishes eating.

Sonic and Amy love gardening and cooking together after defeating Eggman.

Amy admires Sonic’s knowledge about plants, guitars, and books. Sonic admires Amy’s optimistic side whenever she geeks out about silly stuff.

Their brief arguments stems to worrying about one another or what cake tastes better.

Sonic’s favorite times with Amy are when he teases her and she chases after him.

Amy laughs at Sonic’s jokes. Even when they’re not funny.

They both find bungee-jumping romantic and relaxing.

Amy and Sonic plays with each other’s quills when they’re bored.

The best dates are when they’re on dangerous adventures. Sometimes dates aren’t fun when nothing crazy happens. On those days, they go find trouble to be satisfied. But normal dates can be cool if it means they get to travel together.

Amy mostly sends gifts on holidays and Sonic gives gifts when she doesn’t expect it.

Sonic only dresses up when Amy reminds him. Amy doesn’t mind if he forgets because she ends up buying him outfits. She even makes Sonic a red hoodie and he wears it a lot.

When apart for a long time, they write each other letters.

Sonic randomly comes over Amy’s place at any time of day without warning. She acts as if she doesn’t like it, but really enjoys the company of her boyfriend.

On movie nights, Amy and Sonic always forget how long Sonic stays and ends up sleeping on the couch together with one head on top of the other. The same thing happens when they go outside for a “short run,” and end up sleeping outside.

The blue blur’s way of saying “I love you” back to Amy is by using sign language or saying “right back at ya.” He’ll eventually start saying “I love you,” later on. Which surprises Amy to no end when he does it out of nowhere.

The romance Sonic and Amy have isn’t only romance, but an updated version of their friendship. The ability to still be their own people even when in different places. Sonic and Amy are a power couple whose love for adventure strengthens their love for each other. The hedgehogs are equally as happy as when they were close friends. That is what keeps them attached.

That’s a rap! This most likely will never happen, but I don’t mind. Them officially being friends with crushes on each other is stellar and I’m satisfied with it.

[fairytale-poll]

FINALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Ponyo:

determined 5yo girls are more powerful than god

PONYO!!!!

As a child i did not even realize this was a little merm adaptation, but it really reads. She is sooo strange and other worldly and the movie absolutely captures that dreamlike fairy tale vibe

Ponyo a roughly five-year-old magical goldfish who can transform into a frog-type thing and a human girl. She's the eldest daughter of the literal goddess of the sea and a former human sailor given immortality. She falls in love with the five-year-old boy who cares for her and is thrilled to explore his ordinary yet magical world. She's bouncy, exuberant, and joyful. She loves ham. She doesn't have to give up her voice.

ponyo ponyo ponyo little fishie in the sea!

Little fishy

THEY LOVE HAM

Bug:

Their a bug that falls in love with a human they rescue and becomes human, but even when they don't get to keep their human body, they still get to be with their love. It's a sci-fi fairytale musical.

Little Mermaid meets Starship Troopers musical starring awesome puppets and the most trans coded main character ever. Please. Please vote Bug Starship I love him. Go watch Kick it Up a Notch from Starship. Go watch Status Quo from Starship. You will understand.

He's a bug and he lives in space on a bug planet but he really wants to be a starship ranger which you can only be if you are a human and then one day a spaceship lands on his planet and so he goes to an evil bug called Pincer who then helps him become a human. And Bug falls in love with a human on the spaceship and it's very sweet. The musical and storyline are based on the little mermaid story, the creators themselves called it "the little mermaid but in space". Bug wanting to be a human/a starship ranger and achieving that and falling in love with a human is very much like the little mermaid

Starship is a musical that can only be described as The Little Mermaid meets Starship Troopers. It follows Bug, an alien bug who dreams of being a Starship Ranger, a galactic explorer/soldier, but the rigid confines of bug society keeps him trapped in a job he hates. He reaches a Starship Ranger named February from the hive and immediately falls in love with her. In order to be with her and pursue his dream, he makes a deal with a giant scorpion named Pincer who through sci-fi bs gives him a human body. Near the end of the second act he sacrifices his human body and returns to his bug body, and saves the day and wins February's heart. It's truly the ultimate Little Mermaid. He has multiple songs, and his bug body is portrayed by a puppet!! Vote for Bug!!

“It's a big, big, universe So many dimensions And unanswered questions Not to mention Life What an invention Life There's no choice involved in what you are given One mind, one voice, one body to live in It's a short, small thing we lead With so much potential Pointless or essential Which one can I be? Where do I fit? Where do I stand? Who are they to say what I am? And how can I stay inside this awful world I know? I need a way out I need an escape I'd rather be dead than to live in this place I wish that something or someone could just take it all away Someone take me away” dear god….. can anybody hear me…. (song from starship)

They are the purest little mermaid adaptation done in the most unuque way. An alien insect gets turned into a human, a race he has always loved and admired, to be with the woman he fell in love with. Also just a great musical.

Bug's whole arc is so so in tune with that of the little mermaid. He is an alien who has fallen in love with humanity through a crashed spaceship and trades his place in the hive for a chance to be with both with the human he's falling for and to be a Starship Ranger. He body swaps with human in a cryogenic pod! It's literally sci-fi Little Mermaid!

Don't stick to the status quo and pick the fairy tale!! it's what HE would want!!!

[laughincryintumblinmumblin]

Y’all I need to yap about this and I really hope someone understands: SBN3 is a modern day F. Scott Fitzgerald and I will tell you why.

Both have put out notable works, with SBN3 putting out Class of ‘09, and Fitzgerald putting out The Great Gatsby. Both stories involve morally questionable characters that audiences tend to misinterpret, and ultimately ship.

In Class of ‘09, Nicole is a sociopath and because the original game is told from her perspective, she herself tends to be glamorized because she is an unreliable narrator. Despite all of the shitty things she has done, fans still try to paint this picture of her that she’s a misunderstood teenage girl. It wasn’t until Flipside where people saw Nicole’s true colors because it was from Jecka’s perspective, a perspective that wasn’t warped because it came from an outside party, a character that has been affected by her actions. Fans ship this idealized version of Jecka and Nicole despite the actual canon that Jecka recognizes that Nicole is a bad person. SBN3’s Flipside discourages fans from shipping the two because Nicole has done some significant damage on Jecka. Sound familiar?

Though Fitzgerald never commented on readers shipping Nick and Gatsby, he still made clear in the book that Nick was disgusted with Gatsby’s lifestyle despite is admiration. Similar to Class of ‘09, Nick is also an unreliable narrator. Though he expresses disapproval for Gatsby’s actions and lifestyle, Nick tends to leave out a couple things about himself that would paint a better picture of who he is. I think because the most recent movie painted a different picture, fans are more likely to believe that Nick was absolutely devoted to Gatsby. As far as the story goes, the book stands alone. Fitzgerald never officially added more to the story after The Great Gatsby was published like SBN3 has added onto the Class of ‘09 franchise, but what draws the two creators together is that they don’t intend for fans to ship their main characters due to their immoral nature, for shipping can distort the original traits these characters have.

That being said, you as a fan don’t have to follow any of this. You have free will and what you do in your own privacy is nobody’s business but your own. I’m not going to tell you who to ship and who not to ship. Maybe I’m reading into this too much but media literacy is also at a decline so there’s that.

If anyone has any other interpretations or comments, I’d love to hear them!

[thiswaytwoinfinity]

Emma's Epic Multi-Fandom Rec List: 'Top Gun: Bob' Edition

This is technically like, part 3.1 since I've been working on pulling a giant 'Top Gun: Maverick' rec list together, with all the daggers. I wanted to have this done a little while ago (because August was when I joined the TGM fandom, etc.) but frankly everything has been nuts and so I just figured it was better to share what I had ready rather than wait for the whole thing.

Please cut me some slack, my puppy just got spayed and she insists I hold her bone for her while she chews so I have like one free hand and two brain cells at the moment

I do my best to reblog as much as possible but sometimes I miss it so this is my attempt to make up for that and give all of the amazing creators on here the credit they deserve. Thank you all so much for sharing all of your work with us. This past year has been a long and difficult one for me, especially mental health wise, and being able to escape into these stories has been so valuable and important to me. 

If you read anything on here that you like, please reblog and/or comment on these pics to show the creators some love! 

AN IMPORTANT NOTE: While not everything listed here will include smut, many of these authors have 18+ blogs. Please, please, please respect their boundaries and DO NOT INTERACT WITH THEM/THEIR CONTENT IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

Stories marked with ❤️‍🔥 contain NSFW content

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd 

Full of Surprises ❤️‍🔥 by @withahappyrefrain — You have to admire a fandom that takes one look at the bespectacled, quiet-seeming character and goes “This guy fucks.” I also had that exact thought when I first saw Bob Floyd (along with several other, increasingly filthy thoughts), so when I read this story for the first time I went “oh, yeah, definitely. This guy fucks and this is how he fucks.” Just like our beloved WSO, it starts out so charming and sweet and then gets so incredibly steamy and sexy. 10/10. And when you’re done, there’s an equally hot Part 2. 

Behave ❤️‍🔥 by @withahappyrefrain — Bob Floyd bicep choking. Let me repeat that, a little louder: BOB! FLOYD! BICEP! CHOKING! It’s even hotter than you think it is. 

Whodunit? by @attapullman — Fun fact: my absolute favorite genre of fiction (books, movies, games, you name it) is a whodunit mystery. So, naturally, I have been obsessed with this series ever since Mo started teasing it way back when, and I love everything about it. Bob and Fanboy are the perfect goofy amateur sleuths, the teasing hints of cameos from all of the other Daggers keeps you on your toes and there’s a dose and campy ‘80s nostalgia running through the whole thing that I adore. It’s just pure, giddy fun. 

The Neighbor!Bob Universe ❤️‍🔥 by @attapullman — I am on record as adoring every single version of Bob that Mo cooks up, but neighbor!Bob holds a special place in my heart. He’s so handy and confident and sexy and he needs help dodging the firtations of all of the older women in the neighborhood who are equally obsessed with him! My bff and I once joked that the perfect man could build you a table and then do both you and your taxes on it, and well, that’s neighbor!Bob to a tee. 

do you wanna make somethin' of it ❤️‍🔥by @theharddeck — Hi, hello, are you looking for a Bob fic so hot it will MELT YOUR ENTIRE BRAIN? This is that fic. Bob has a secret side hustle as your favorite audio erotica performer (username: BullRiderRhett) and he is just as brain-scramblingly hot in person as he is in your headphones. I finished this fic and said out loud, to nobody, “omg I need him.” And because the universe is kind, there is an equally scorching sequel. 

you don’t have to be a star by @sunlightmurdock — Sweet, perfect Bob deserves a sweet, perfect fic where he gets to hear all about how lovely and wonderful he is, just the way he is. Fluffy and warm and the kind of story that gives you the urge to kiss him all over his perfect little face. 

Something in the Orange ❤️‍🔥by @sorchathered — I’m a sucker for a “right person, wrong time” situation and this one is a gut-punch of angst followed by a swoon-worthy reconciliation. I imagine it would be impossible to ever truly move on from Robert Floyd. 

Delicate ❤️‍🔥 and I Want Your Midnights by @laracrofted — *Tyler Owens voice* Are y’all ready to pine? Bob Floyd is an absolute dream boy and he’s at his most hesitant and lovestruck in these two gorgeous stories. These give me the same like, sinking stomach-feeling I get when I stare at pictures of Lewis for too long — like just the tiniest bit of melancholy that makes the whole experience sweeter and more emotional. Does that make sense? It’s one of the highest compliments I can give. 

Covering the Classics ❤️‍🔥by @roosterforme — BOB AND ANNA! ANNA AND BOB! I COULD SCREAM ABOUT THESE TWO FOR HOURS! I love them, this is such a beautiful, heart wrenching, emotional roller coaster of a story about learning how to find yourself and your people after heartbreak and trauma. Anna is such an interesting, complicated character and Bob meets her at every turn with love and tenderness and the biggest open heart in the world. (And also the steamy scenes are BEYOND, like, damn, Bob, neither Anna nor I was ever gonna be able to resist you.)

I Heard Screaming ❤️‍🔥by @oncassette — Yes, it’s a classic fanfic trope — I heard noises and walked in on you enjoying some *private time* while thinking about me — but it’s a classic for a reason. I love it and I reread it all the time. 

Four Eyes ❤️‍🔥by @promisingyounglady — I’m going to quote what I wrote the first time I reblogged this wildly, delightfully, insanely filthy fic: “I need to sit in a dark corner and replay this fic in my brain like a movie now.” It’s that good

Misc. Lewis Pullman Characters: 

Dancing Beneath the Moon ❤️‍🔥by @delopsia (Rhett Abbott) — Del is *the* Rhett Abbott fic writer, in my opinion, and choosing just one of their fics was so much harder than I thought. But ultimately, I’m still so spellbound by this one, where Rhett is a ghost haunting the former Abbott ranch. It’s atmospheric and moody and gorgeous and the pining is top notch — as is the image of Rhett being a grumpy, mischievous house ghost. Also please check out their Floytt universe which I also adore. 

Coyote ❤️‍🔥by @delopsia (Miles Miller) — An omegaverse with a twist! The reader is a wolf being married off to broker peace with another prominent wold family … only to run away with the sweet, gentle coyote who works at the desk of the El Royale.  Dip You in Honey So I Could Be Stickin to You ❤️‍🔥by @laracrofted (Harrison Knott) — Harrison Knott, the man that you are. And the man that you are in this fic, specifically. I need him desperately. Carnally. In a way that is concerning to feminism.

[yandere-kokeshi]

Hello, can I order the Headcanon Yandere Uzui with a Gn reader who loves his boobs and who always sticks her face in his chest and massages, touches and sucks his nipples But who is ashamed to confess for fear of being thought that the S/O is a pervert.

In a scenario where he kidnaps his S/O who, instead of freaking out, stares at his boobs and asks if he can touch them.

I think he would be the type to go shirtless just to have his S/O touching him constantly.

Warnings: yandere behavior and nsfw

A/N: I got confused by this so I decided to do headcanons. Ty for the request <3

He actually enjoys this way too much.

Uzui loves how naughty you can be, especially when he wakes up in the morning or does a workout in the backyard; he really finds your reactions to be very adorable, the way your eyes just follow him around as he does daily tasks.

Not only does he purposely wear tight clothing, but he makes sure to always bear his chest around. He loves admiring the way you shuffle behind him and ask if you can touch his chest, to which you never have to ask permission for.

Speaking of permission, Uzui has given you all the nodding on touching him whenever you want. Anytime of the day, evening or night, you can reach over and grab his

Definitely teases on how perverted you can be. But he means no harm, Uzui loves how dirty-minded you are. Something he and you both have in common.

As for your worries of being ashamed of being dirty-minded or having the fear he’ll be grossed out, he always assures you that he’s always known – and that he doesn’t mind one bit.

Will ask you questions regarding his chest, asking if he should get nipple piercings or wear certain clothing that make his nipples hard. Regardless of your opinion, one day, he will show up at the house with aching nipple-piercings, teasing you the minute he steps into the home: “Wait until it’s healed than you can suck like a good ol’ whore.”

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[ecoterrorist-katara]

The only stereotypically masculine thing about Aang…is his romantic arc

There’s a really popular post on Tumblr called “Avatar Aang, Feminist Icon.” The thesis is basically that Aang, unlike his female teachers and friends, is actually not a badass. He listens, he defers, and he respects women. He seemed to have no problem with Katara’s crush on Jet, despite his own crush on her. He chooses love and kindness and friendship and pacifism. He’s not tall and handsome as hell or buff. He wears flower crowns!

And I agree! This is Aang for most of the series and I love those qualities (though I do think the bar is in hell if those traits make a character a feminist icon, as opposed to a person who simply sees women as human beings). Anyway, I just think there’s a glaring omission. And that’s Aang’s romantic arc in season 3.

Bryke managed to take the worst of both worlds: Aang’s romantic arc retains the male-centricity that make most romances so problematic, while retaining none of the characteristics that make problematic romances compelling to women.

Aang falls in love at first sight with a beautiful girl. For the majority of their friendship, he remains respectful and supportive. As his crush hits an all time high, however, it gets distinctly more stereotypical: he kisses Katara at the invasion, and when she didn’t want to talk about that kiss, he firebends at her (the fact that this comic is canon, and was published years after ATLA’s conclusion, only demonstrates that the creators still don’t understand critiques of their romance). Aang considers Katara “his girl” and becomes furious (“I would be in the Avatar state right now!”) when the actress version of Katara didn’t like him romantically, and then he kisses her again — this time explicitly against her wishes. Throughout the show, people reassure him that she will come around, continuously reinforcing the idea that Katara is “his” and he just has to be patient. And even though Ka/taang is supposed to be endgame, we never hear directly from Katara how she feels, even though we’re no strangers to her opinions and feelings on other topics. It’s almost like the creators wanted Katara’s feelings to be a mystery because we’re meant to resonate with Aang. That’s…a male-centric, action hero romance.

In addition, the friendship dynamics between Katara and Aang feel pretty gendered. The distribution of emotional labour between Aang and Katara is quite skewed: Katara takes care of Aang much more than he takes care of her. She’s the one responsible for calming him down from the Avatar State. She’s the one who cooks for him and performs a whole lot of domestic chores. Post-canon, Katara’s storyline revolves around Aang, and she’s treated as his accessory and the keeper of his legacy instead of her own person, to the degree that she’s not even recognizable in LOK anymore. A beautiful, badass, independent woman who dedicates her energy and intelligence to a man’s needs? Wow, that is definitely something I’ve never seen in media geared towards men!

A lot of gushing about Aang’s lack of stereotypical masculinity seems to also hinge on how Aang is not conventionally attractive, but that’s…not true. Aang may not behave like James Bond, but he has plenty of admirers. Meng and On Ji liked him even without knowing that he’s the Avatar. Post-series, Acolytes descend en masse to steal Katara’s man. And of course he grows into a tall, buff dude. Aang’s romantic arc is not about becoming attractive to women, or finding a woman who loves him despite his looks. His romantic arc is about getting the girl who’s hard to get, because she only sees him as a friend or a little brother / babysitting charge.

Bryke do not deserve the credit for creating a “feminist icon,” not when the only stereotypically masculine traits they gave him are in relation to his romance arc. It honestly feels more insidious this way, because it’s like, “see? You don’t have to be masculine to reap the benefits of performing masculinity” — the benefits being, of course, “getting” the girl you want.

[spooderlover]

Analyzing the difference between timmy and dev

So I want to have my take on a little bit of analyzing dev and Dale's character.

So as we know and love the show.Fairly parents with Timmy Turner.There is a definite change in the way they handle magic and their life issues.

Take timmy for example. His family pretty much ignored him. He had an evil babysitter. Yet he was happy because he could have wishes.

The reason I find dev dimmadome character so genius is the teaching behind it.

Pretty much every character that ended up having a godparent ended up happy despite their circumstances.

Yet dev dud not.

Having a fairy did not make him more trusting. Having a fairy did not make him not grumpy and still a stand off kid.

And most importantly.

Dev never got what he needed even with a godparent.

His dad's love.

Unlike timmy who even though had neglectful parents could wish away his troubles because he did have god parents.

It was not the same for dev. Even though he had magic and everything. He didn't want possessions. He wanted his dad's love.

He's a much more flawed character than the other characters. Because magic wasn't enough to make him happy.

I very much admire this creator for going to that length. Teaching us that just because you have a fairy godparent dosent mean all your troubles go away.

Some pain is to deep.

I think it's a very well written remy buxaplenty plot of what we could've had.

And I know so many people don't like his behavior but you have to remember that he is just a child. He has a right to be upset with Hazel. I mean I know it's not her fault.

But imagine having a parent that you have wanted to pay attention to you and you find out he cares more about what your friends are doing.

And I don't think Dale is completely a messed up. Person either like when it comes to that he's not redeemable.

I've seen another post. I feel like he has a lot of past tramas and pain what happened to him.

And I do hope the creator gives them both a happy ending all the while being able to let him have his god parent.

[erisweekofficial]

We're thrilled to shine a light on @zenkindoflove!!! Amanda is an absolute gem in the Elucien fandom AND Eris fandom and has also blessed us with Alexius, her incredible OC for her Eris x OC fics.

Alexius stands out as one of the few male OCs in the community, and the dynamic between him and Eris is nothing short of captivating. Think forced proximity, delicious yearning, witty banter, political intrigue, and all the tension you could dream of. You can see them in both Summer Heat (which has Elucien) and Pull Me in Deeper, which... y'all you gotta read this asap😍🤭🥵 Also the mods are begging you to read Taste of You, a short and delightfully smutty one shot.

And PLEASE admire this amazing art of Alexius and Eris!

Read more to learn about how @zenkindoflove was inspired to create content about Eris AND her extremely helpful tips for writing content about him. (We're taking notes)

What inspired you to start creating content about Eris?  I became curious about writing Eris after he was featured in some of my Elucien fics. When I started my multichapter Elucien fic Summer Heat, I decided that I would give him a male love interest in that fic and create an OC - which ended up being Alexius who you see featured in all of my Eris work. I originally intended for it to be a background relationship, but I decided to experiment and write the scene of their first meeting (a very smutty scene) just to do some character exploration. I didn’t intend to include it in the fic, but then once I wrote it, I knew that it was something special and Eris x Alexius became a true B storyline in that fic with a fully fleshed out love story. After that, I wanted to expand and write fics that focused on them which I've written several now and more to come for Eris Week! It's a bit niche. Hardly anyone writes Eris x Male OC but I'm obsessed now.

What's your favorite piece you've created featuring Eris and why? 

That would be my Eris x Alexius multichapter fic - Pull Me in Deeper. I love it because it was a way for me to explore Eris’ character when he is out of the watchful eye of his father and others in Prythian. It’s also just a fun action/adventure/romance story and I got to explore more lore and character building for my OC Alexius as well. Alexius was designed to be, in my opinion, the perfect person for Eris and that means often standing in contrast to a lot of his personality traits and pushing him outside of his comfort zone. So it was an incredibly fun dynamic to explore. And it’s two gay men who are on a quest to find out (*spoilers*) if unicorns exist XD.

How do you approach writing dialogue for Eris? 

I tend to lean into Eris being more careful with his words - so he is sharp, concise, and efficient in his word choice. Depending on who he’s sharing a scene with and the context, he can be severe and short or he can be long-winded and eloquent. And of course, he has banter and jabs a plenty. So I try to balance all those sides of him depending on the context.

Do you have any advice for other creators wanting to make Eris content? 

Eris inhabits a unique space in canon where he is truly a free agent when it comes to relationships. So, I would recommend if you want to write romances with Eris to lean into self-indulgence and write the pairing/story you really want to tell and try to let go of what you think will be popular. And if that ends up being Eris x OC rather than a canon character, know that it can actually be such a rewarding experience even if you don’t have a built in audience. Creating an OC to pair with Eris has been immensely fun and has broadened my creativity. Eris is a complex, interesting character with so many layers and building someone to fit him and find out what is underneath all of those layers can lead you down quite an obsessive path. But a fun one. 

Please give us a name for one of Eris’s Brothers

Kian. He is the third oldest and is more of a scholarly type. Now that second brother Conan is dead, he is next in line after Eris.

Please give us a name for one of Eris's Dogs.

Lithia. She just had puppies in PMID and Eris is worried about her. 

[hopelesslygeek]

I'm Oliretta's biggest fan and here's why:

Okay, so I've seen a lot of people online who didn't like Season Three and didn't vibe with Oliver and Loretta's relationship and ,while I understand and respect that, I couldn't disagree more.

For one, Marty Short and Meryl Streep have insane on-screen chemistry imo, and they are also visually "compatible". It is established early on that they have a lot of things in common (love for theatre, tendency for ludicrous storytelling, "is the thing in the thing?", similar sense of humour etc), they even have some matching clothing items (Oliver's scarfs and Loretta's shawls). So it is obvious that the showrunners are telling us "Hey look, these two are very alike, maybe they would be compatible in a romantic sense too".

But the biggest and most important reason why I love this ship is that they see each other. Oliver was the first person to really see how talented and brilliant Loretta is, he is the first one to give her a chance and show her that all her life's work has not been for nought. On a more personal level later on, he proclaims her his "Lucky Durkin", he alleviates her of her insecurities of not being good or deserving enough and he encourages her to pursue her dreams. Loretta on the other hand, is the only one to really see Oliver's sensitivity and vulnerability, as shown in the second piano scene. Honestly, Oliver has been my favourite since day one and in that moment Loretta perfectly expressed the reason why: yes, he is loud and eccentric and he often serves the role of the comic relief but, in reality, he is a highly intelligent and empathetic person, and he has his own anxieties and insecurities like everyone else.

It was a delight to watch Marty act opposite Meryl in these scenes because I think he really nailed the surprise and delight that Oliver felt when Loretta told him that she really sees him for the sensitive, lovely man that he is ("You understand me, Loretta, and that has been a rarity in my life."). It is very subtle but you can clearly notice the difference in his acting when it's just the two of them. Whereas Oliver is usually chaotic and scattered, when he's alone with Loretta he is a more quite, honest version of himself.

Also, we got to see how wonderfully expressing and giving Oliver is when he is in love. He never hesitated to express his love and admiration for Loretta both in private ("I adore you, Loretta 'Lucky' Durkin, and everything about you", "I love you. I haven't said those words in a while but it felt right so I'm gonna say it again: I love you") and in front of others ("She's the love of my life.", "Doesn't Loretta look pretty?", "Anything for you, ma cherie").

All in all, after two whole seasons, my boy Oliver deserved to get some action too and I don't think there could have been a better choice for a romantic interest than Loretta. Can't wait to see them again in the new season and I really hope the creators won't fuck it up.