#but i was not paying attention to the autoplay after and uh

[marmotsomsierost]

You know when you hear a song that just up and bitchslaps you back through time and space into a moment in the past (either specific or some nebulous range) and you briefly have to wrestle with this intense overlay of memory dumped onto your present with the weight of a wet down comforter?

There should be a word for that.

There should also be a word for when that happens when you're driving on the freeway.

Anyway, this made me go 'wait i know this. I know i know this. Why can't i think of who this is. What the fuck.' right up until Robert McFerrin's voice comes in and then I was like HOLY SHIT how in the HELL did i forget that.

He (Bobby McFerrin, not his dad) was busking in the skyways in minneapolis one night when we were on our way to a timberwolves game. I think he might have been with a violinist? My parents and i were power-walking as usual up until we heard him, and suddenly Dad's stopped dead and Mom's tugging us all up against a wall so we could not get swept away (in order to instead be swept away by music). It was pretty clear almost nobody recognized him, but after awhile he paused for a bit and chatted briefly with those of us who'd stuck around. I don't remember how old i was, but it absolutely stands out as a little temporal pocket-memory.

[astrxealis]

good morning (uh. afternoon) fuuta's songs on repeat once again <3

[wherethewordsare]

Birds of a Feather

For @notsafeformurphy who was having a day of it the other day and we got to talking and.... oops this happened. This honestly started out as a nature docu au and ended up a coffee shop au? Idk man.... Anyway, Shay I hope you enjoy this! 

Also tagging @herostag since it was requested. and @jaskierswolf cause I think they’re gonna start yelling at me if i keep forgetting. Going to try to get my tag list back together if anyone is interested. <3 <3 <3 Hope yall enjoy Jaskier huffed as he flopped over again, his body refusing to just relax down into his mattress and let him sleep. It had been a stressful day and to make matters worse, it had been the third night in a row where he was simply unable to sleep. 

Giving up, he reached for his phone, scrolling through youtube for a moment, looking for something that he could just zone out to for a little while. Usually he would put on music or white noise but even that didn’t seem like it would be helpful. He had to find something extremely dull and maybe a bit pretty. 

He scrolled past a thumbnail of three large men in park uniforms. Two of them looked like they were at least somewhat interested in being there while one tall man with near white hair simply scowled at the camera. 

Wild Wednesdays with the Rivia Nature Reserve the title read. 

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Jaskier huffed as he rolled onto his stomach. He pulled the kickstand of his phone case out and set it up before pressing play and curling his arms around his pillow. 

“This week, we’ll be talking to Geralt Rivia, our resident raptor specialist about what goes into rehabilitation efforts when it comes to conservation,” someone said off camera, cheerily. When the camera panned to Geralt Rivia however, he did not seem to share the narrator’s same upbeat tone. 

For a few minutes, the narrator off camera seemed to try to ask Geralt about himself, only getting stilted answers and that same scowl that had been in the thumbnail. Jaskier snorted with a smirk. 

“You’re not having any of this, are you? You’re gorgeous though,” he chuckled. He felt his back relax as he yawned, snuggling closer into his pillow. 

And then it happened. From off camera, someone handed Geralt a leather glove that he put on easily before taking a cord. He clicked a bit and the scowl he had moments ago melted into a fond smile. 

“And who is this?” the narrator asked. They clearly had picked up on the shift in Geralt’s demeanor as a small falcon took up perch on his forearm. 

He actually cooed at the bird for a moment before holding it up for the camera. “This is Roach. She’s one of our recent rescues.” He smiled, a barely there tilt of his lips and his honey colored eyes softened. Jaskier got the impression on anyone else, it would have been a full grin. 

“Oh, I like that look,” Jaskier murmured, feeling his cheeks heat up. 

“And what is Roach?” the person asked off camera. 

Geralt took a step back, turning his arm slightly, causing the bird to flap agitatedly at him as she kept her balance. “Yes, I know, but I have to show off how pretty you are,” he said to the bird, fond and warm. 

“Oh no,” Jaskier whispered into his pillow. “He’s soft and hot.” 

“Roach here is a red-tailed hawk. They’re pretty common through North America,” he explained, pointing out the red-brown of her tail. The hawk nipped at him as he got her to open her wings for the camera and he only chuckled. “She’s about six, the same age as my daughter actually. And,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “I’ll be honest with you, I’m not sure which one is less well behaved.” 

Roach must have understood a bit of that because she gave a cry before nipping at Geralt’s hair, clearly annoyed. 

“Listen, if you weren’t so hornery, I wouldn’t say it,” he said to Roach, pulling another scowl but there was clearly no heat in it. 

This was not the same man from the thumbnail or the same man that barely gave answers about himself at the beginning of the clip. When that bird sat on his arm, he lit up and Jaskier was weak. 

Geralt answered a few other questions about hawks and about the reserves program for rehabbing hawks, his voice deep and gravely. He would have sounded gruff if not for how much he clearly loved what he did. 

Geralt looked at Roach a little sadly. “Unfortunately for our little lady here, she won’t be able to return to the wild. Due to her injuries when she came to us, she won’t be able to hunt on her own,” he gave her a soft smile before he petted down her neck gently. 

Jaskier’s eyes were starting to feel heavy. He had turned into the pillow, letting Geralt’s voice wash over him with simple facts about red-tail hawks as he drifted off to sleep. It hadn’t been dull at all but there was something about the way Geralt spoke that just melted him into his mattress. 

When he woke, his phone was dead, probably from being set to autoplay. As it charged, he looked at the videos that had played while he was asleep, most of them from the Rivia Nature Reserve. There were a few specials with other team members but Jaskier picked out the ones that mentioned Geralt Rivia directly. 

It had become a near routine and soon, Jaskier found that he just slept better after watching those nature clips. Sometimes, Geralt wasn’t even on camera, simply walking through the process of population counting for the reserve as the camera panned around to different birds up in the trees. There were other videos featuring Roach the red-tailed hawk as well and it was clear that she was a favorite, not only of Geralt’s but the viewers as well. 

Within three weeks, Jaskier had made his way through nearly the whole catalog of the reserve’s videos. He knew he would move on from tall, silver and brooding and find his next sleep fix but for now he simply enjoyed it. 

~

He should have said no, he should have mentioned that he simply did not do morning shifts, and there was a reason for that, but Essi had been persistent, almost feral about him taking her shift. 

“Please, Jask. I promise, you won’t regret it!” She grinned at him and there was something in her eyes that sent up a dozen red flags. 

“What are you plotting?” He asked flatly, squinting at her over his glass of wine. 

“Not a thing, darling, just trust me on this,” she giggled, sipping her own wine neatly. 

~

It hadn’t been a terrible morning, though Jaskier was barely managing to stay upright by the the coffee grinder. He was used to staying up long nights and it hadn’t changed anything when he knew he would have to open. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. 

I know you mentioned he had a kid, but he’s single. You’re gonna want to put a blueberry muffin in right now. 

He blinked at his phone, squinting as he tried to decode just what the fuck Essi was saying. 

What?

But he put in the blueberry muffin, his phone on the counter as he watched the three little dots dance where Essi was texting back. 

You still owe me a no questions.

“What the fuck is she even-” Jaskier heard the bell above the door just as he set the timer for the oven. 

“-and so I tell him that if he isn’t going to at least make an attempt to clear out the back trails, we’re going to find a new contractor.” Came a voice behind him. 

Jaskier froze, his hand on his phone. He nearly threw it in a panic. He recognized that voice. He’d recognize that voice in the dark, though to be fair, he usually listened to it in the dark. 

He glanced over his shoulder and sure enough, Geralt Rivia was standing at his counter with two others from the nature reserve. 

“Be with you in just a minute!” he tried for cheery and landed firmly in panicked. He ducked behind the large coffee machine and shot a text back to Essi. 

I haven’t decided on whether or not I love you more than anything or if I’m ever going to

speak to you again!

Have fun! ;)

That bitch. It had been a setup! He adored her, the meddling little sneak. He schooled his face the best he could, knowing full well that his ears were still the color of the strawberry frap they served. 

“Morning, what can I get you guys?” He asked as he wet his lips, trying not to stare right into Geralt’s gorgeous face. 

“Three coffees, a blueberry muffin warmed up and a plain bagel, untoasted,” Geralt said offhandedly as he looked around. “No Essi today?” 

“Uh, no. I’m filing in this morning. Jaskier, at your service.” As he dipped his head in a mock bow he internally cursed himself. One day, one normal day, that was all he asked for. “Hope the bagel isn’t for Roach. I’m not sure she’d like it. How is she? We haven’t seen her much recently?” He shot off without thinking as he started to pour the coffees. He froze again as his brain caught up with his mouth. 

Behind Geralt, both of the men snorted. “Looks like you’ve got a fan, pretty boy,” the darker haired one jostled Geralt’s shoulder with a smirk.

Geralt only stood there, tilting his head slightly as though he wasn’t sure what had just happened. 

“Ah, I mean…” Jaskier fumbled, nearly spilling one of the coffees down his own front. 

“She’s doing fine actually,” there was a soft smile on his face, the same he wore when he got to handle the birds directly and Jaskier could feel himself melt on the spot. “Naughty as ever. Learned a new trick to take a swipe at Lambert here if he’s holding the feed bucket,” there was a low rumble of a chuckle. 

The dark haired one behind Geralt stopped laughing abruptly. “She’s a menace.” He growled, picking up his own coffee from the counter. 

Behind Jaskier, the oven dinged. “Oh and your muffin!” He turned, letting himself have the moment his back was to them to silently scream. He had been tricked! He had been set up! He was going to try to get this man’s number and he would never hear the end of it. 

“You already had it in?” Geralt asked, that smile still in place. 

“What can I say, we make sure to take care of our favorite customers.” He was almost proud of himself at how smoothly that had come out as he turned to look back at Geralt. He should have been paying attention to the muffin as it dropped, missing the bag completely and splatting on the floor. 

“Fuck,” Jaskier nearly cried. “I am so sorry. Give me, just a moment, I’ll get another one in for you.” 

He watched as Geralt ducked his head, smirking. “Would you like to meet her?” He gave another tilt of his head, his eyes clearly looking Jaskier up and down. 

He was sure he had died. This wasn’t real. This was the good place. Or the bad place. Either way, this place was the place his soul had clearly left his body. He stood there, cold muffin in hand as he gaped at Geralt. 

“Uh-”

“You don’t,” Geralt cleared his throat, “I was just wondering since you seemed… to be a… fan.” His face slipped into a scowl and no. No that wouldn’t do at all. 

“I would love to, yeah. I’m off at three?” 

“Oh! Jaskier! Thank you for coming in to open. I can take it from here,” Essi slipped in beside him, taking the muffin from his hand. “Morning, Dr. Rivia,” she nearly sang, her face smug. 

“Dead. You’re very very dead when I see you again,” Jaskier whispered to her though he couldn’t stop grinning. 

“So you were saying?” Geralt asked, leaning against the counter. 

“Turns out, I’m free as a bird, you’d say.” Jaskier chuckled as he slipped his apron off and made his way around the counter. 

Geralt snorted and rolled his eyes but took his coffee and muffin from Essi. “You know that phrase ‘eat like a bird’ is really not that good of a way of saying that someone doesn’t eat much?” 

Behind them, Lambert scoffed. “Here we fucking go again. I said I was sorry for bringing it up!” 

Later that afternoon he found himself wearing a glove similar to the one he had first seen Geralt in, a small tawny owl bobbing on his arm as he looked on in wonder. He had met Roach and she had nipped at his hair and shirt, screeching when food wasn’t produced. 

“Hmm, let’s get Scorpion. He won’t tear you to shreds,” Geralt gave Roach a fond little tap on her wing with the back of his fingers. 

By the end of the day he left with a few knicks in his fingers and a phone number. He had never slept better.

[into-september]

Sole Crusher

 Some clip running on autoplay had what looked like André trying to console Zoé and honestly those two finding each other would make everything worth it.

SPOILERS BELOW THIS POINT

- WHO ARE YOU, DISEMBODIED PERSONAL TOUR GUIDE LADY

- Marinette once again demonstrates her utter ignorance of the concept of “bad parents”, and “the people you love” shall for Zoé then be ~friends~. Which I don’t usually have a problem with except the implications that these friends will be Kitty Section and while I don’t mind the individual members I, uh. Really wish Kitty Section would just break up already.

- This is a meet cute

- Marinette… has a thing for befriending the friendless, but the only one of them who has gotten even close to being being friendless because they are genuinely socially incompetent has been Marc, and even he was just adorably shy. Kagami should count but the story frames her loneliness as the result of her mother, not her massive awkwardness (it suddenly strikes me re. “Mr Pidgeon 72”, but Kagami has been shown to hang out with Kitty Section a number of times now, and with Marinette’s friends on the insta. Are you SURE you’re her only friend, Marinette?)

- Marinette displays the universal notebook of the easily distracted

- No favouritism going on with mother of the year at least, though not very surprising. Zoé has also clearly been taught to play the part of pleasing her, though not internalised it.

- “Oh Chloé, never change,” I kind of want to say, but the way this show is going she WILL probably have to change some way or the other and if that’s the case I’d rather it be the other way

- Heyyyy is that the kid who was unmasked as Cat Noir at the pool

- oh my god Sabrina

- one day I might talk about Sabrina, and the fact that Chloé is still in her photo in the OP, and the fact that they’re both still in the good guy corner in THAT regard because I’m pretty sure Lila is not there. Boy howdy is Sabrina a conflicted case for me.

- “Cockroaches in her locker” sounds like the dumb man’s version of “Operation: Anthy is a weirdo who keeps a snail in her pencil box”

- things I did not expect out of this episode: The answer to which “A. Bourgeois” made that film with Adrien’s mum. Anyway holy fuck the one thing I wanted out of this episode really happened. Jesus. I did not dare hope but I got it anyway.

- Also: Beneath Emilie’s portrait is that of a woman with Kagami’s face and longer hair and does this mean that André, of all people, is the link between Gabriel, Audrey and Tomoe

- So Gabriel, are these feelings of “being rejected by your family” anything you’ve picked up closer to home? Like, say, the back of your mansion?

- Anyway, welcome to Paris. Be like a native and get akumatised.

- Of all the places Chloé would chose to hide, but hey I’m not complaining

- Either the kwamis all know Cat Noir’s identity, or they can instinctively find each other. Either way I liiiike that we’re getting to see their powers go haywire.

- This is a kind of interesting three-way battle between Marinette, Hawkie, and Chloé.

- Also her telling CN to shut up while she’s giving her civilian friendship speech

- “Please don’t tell my wife about this” oh god the red flags in millions and the fact that I still can’t tell whether this show recognises abuse as abuse because it’s still ~funny~ that Sabrina is doing Chloé’s homework in the closet

- I mean, it IS funny, but only because like all of Chloé (as this episode well illustrates) is so caricatured. Audrey is just… not caricatured enough, some times. Chloé is ridiculous and that’s why we laugh at her, but I’ve known people uncomfortably close to Audrey.

- the irony of Ladybug’s new charms being shaped off of their akuma form

- Once again Adrien is at Kitty Section practice. No Kagami though.

- Zoé’s great big speech o’loneliness is a lesson for us all in telling vs showing and this ending is, for lack of a better word, mawkish. But I like seeing Ivan do something, because I don’t think he HAS ever since. Well. “Origins”

End takeaway: The best thing to happen this episode was André Bourgeois and I ain’t complaining about that. But Zoé is… well. Interesting as someone uncomfortable as the social chameleon? A commentary on Adrien and Lila? Clearly set apart from Chloé who isn’t acting?

Attempts at fitting in with her toxic family aside, she’s just another nice kid who is Marinette’s friend, but this show already has a good dozen other nice kids who is Marinette’s friend. What makes Zoé interesting isn’t anything at all about her as a person, but how she relates to her family.

Which, speaking of, illustrates one peculiar aspect here: The Chloé-Audrey synthesis. The two were introduced by their separation which Chloé desperately wanted to bridge. The separation was bridged - by Marinette of all people - by telling Audrey that Chloé was a horrible, horrible person. After that, Audrey’s appearances have mostly been to act in tandem with Chloé, which she still does at the end of this episode. Does she want to send Zoé away because she’s genuinely cares what the girl does? Is she genuinely upset because of who Zoé’s friends are? Her early interactions with Chloé did not suggest that she’s someone to care enough to pay attention to what her offspring is up to and who they friends were. Yet in both “Maledictator” and here, she’s used as little more than the adult extension on Chloé’s demands. Before Audrey returned to Paris, André would occasionally put his foot down; now, Chloé gets her will by drumming up her mother’s support, because André does not oppose his wife. This is a weird continuation of the beginning where Chloé was struggling to emulate her so as to get her attention. The implication seems to be that Audrey changed her mind about Zoé because Chloé changed her mind about Zoé, and that is a strange inversion of how the Chloé-Audrey relationship was first introduced.

I’m not holding my breath for any more Zoé-André bonding, since the episode also ends with pretty clearly placing Zoé outside the family to which André is still inside. She seems set to be the Harry Potter to the upper class Dursleys. The moral, as it stands after her first episode, is that Zoé exists to be what Chloé should have been. Here’s to hoping that she’ll be something more than the blunt vessel of making a point that never needed to be made in the first place.  

[jbbuckybarnes]

Drabbles for Friends - Samantha

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Warnings: Smut, 18+ A/N: This one is for @sassy-pelican​ and I wrote it in my notes app a while back after we talked about a situation like this. I had so much fun writing it and I’m glad I have someone that’s equally as gaga as me to share it with. And with that...here’s the MASTERLIST and a server OG:

Corrupted

You heard a knock at your door, not unusual in the evenings. Instead of the usual post-dinner ice cream heist you had Bucky with his Macbook on him in front of you. "Yeah?" "Can I come in?" "Sure." You closed the door behind him. "So, I have some questions about...sex nowadays." he mumbled a little shy. "Oh, yeah, sure." "Well, I don't know if you're aware but in the 40s you usually waited till you were married." he looked up. "Yeah, nothing wrong with being 100 and a virgin." you shrugged and sat down next to him. "So I've been online and..." "... watched porn?" He nodded. "Half of it is not realistic, just to take the shock away." you put your hands on his shoulder and he opened the laptop. "Do people really do this?" On the screen you saw BDSM porn, "Some people do. Definitely not from the beginning and most of them not this intense. Some people just like pain I guess. But it's not common to do it this intense." He scrolled down, "That's unrealistic." Another scroll & autoplay, "That's not how the average woman orgasms." End of the page, "Those aren't average dicks." He went silent, questioning internally if he should ask how many you've seen in your life. You took a sip from your goodnight tea before he mumbled, "Um, mine's...bigger." Resulting in you spiting out the tea you just drank, looking at him wide eyed. "Ho boy, you have to learn a lot about female anatomy and sex if you don't wanna hurt a woman then." You said, still a little surprised. "It's not as weird as I thought to talk about this with you." He sent another shy smile.

"If you need any advice or literally anything, just come to me. I won't make it weird, promise." You smiled, "The awkward facts are out of the way." "I mean, you could teach me if it's not that weird for you." He scratched his neck. "Like...friends with benefits or like a-" "-relationship. Yeah, if you don't mind, I mean this is a weird q-" He was interrupted by your sudden move onto his lap. "You've kissed before though." "Yeah." He grinned up at you before you craddled his face and kissed him. It turned a little bit more passionate than he expected, "This is usually the point where you-" Your hips were grabbed and pushed towards his center. "Lesson number one. Other than consent obviously. You can kiss me anywhere unless I tell you not to. You can undress me if I don't stop you. You're allowed to adventure my body and reactions, alright?" His left hand wandered under your shirt on your back, making you shiver. Teeth carefully biting your bottom lip. The hand wandered to the front, no bra since you were in your sleepwear, slowly massaging your boobs. Another shiver. "Good. Lesson two, you might need 10-20 minutes of this and similar things to get a woman wet enough for you. Although, I'd have to judge based on how big you are, you might have to do more." You bit your lip seductively and saw his jaw tick. "You like the talking aspect or should I shut up?" "Go on." he grumbled deep. "Hmm, your instincts kicking in, huh?" You smirked before your head was grabbed closer for a hungry kiss. "Damn." You reoriented yourself for a second, "Do you mind if I?" You tugged on his shirt, "No, darling." You uncovered a body that has been through a lot but still looked so untouched. "You don't necessarily want sex today, right? I could just tell you a bit more, show you what I can do." "You're taking the lead. Whatever you want, doll." Your hands wandered down on him, his eyes constantly looking at your amazed expression. "Give me your hand." He held out his right hand and you guided it between your legs. You pushed your shorts aside and let him brush over your damp underwear. "Darlin'!" he went wideeyed and heard you giggle. "You're doing this to me, you know? You make me wet." You said softspoken and saw him swallow. "Do I make you hard?" You whispered and watched him close his eyes in pleasure, trying to not moan. "Show me how hard I make you." You murmured, pulling on his sweatpants and hearing him groan softly. "Relax, I gotchu, honey." you whispered again as you got rid of the last layer, uncovering the true extend of 'Mine is bigger'. "Wow." You couldn't hold that comment back. "What?" he blushed a bit shy again. "I hoped you were joking but, wow. You'd need to eat a woman out before having fun with her." You thought out loud. "Eating out?" He dipped his head. "You know, put your head between her thighs and..." "I assume that's a lesson soon." He smirked with a dark undertone, oh, that man was willing to drive a woman crazy. "You bet it will be." you grinned as you reached down to put your hand around his length. "Fuck!" His head fell back. "Relax and enjoy, okay? This will feel good. I promise." you whispered as you started pumping him under hums and groans. "Lay back." You softly pushed him back before going onto your knees on the floor in front of the bed. "What are you- Fuuuck." Your mouth found its way around his cock. "Holy shit, darling." His hands grabbed onto your fitted sheets, slowly undoing them from the mattress. "Don't stop doing that." he murmured. The hand not around his base went to cup his balls and with the sound of your fitted sheet ripping you felt him shoot spurts of white into your mouth with a deep growl. "Fuck," he whispered out of breath. "Did that feel good?" you grinned climbing back on top of him. "That was...amazing. Damn, darling." He grabbed you down for a kiss. "You wanna feel how wet that made me?" You whispered and saw him shiver. "Put your hand into my panties and be very gentle, alright?" You watched him slowly do as he was told and look up at you to gauge a reaction, "You're doing good." His finger went over your clit and you hummed, "Oh, I learned that women like this a lot." "Most women can only come from this." His eyes went wide, "Only 25% of women orgasm because of a dick inside of them. Which is why porn is so misleading." "But you still want me to explore, right." He smirked and went further, closer to your wet channel. "Put two fingers inside of me." He looked up at you with a reluctant expression before doing it. "Is it supposed to be so..." "Tight?" "Yeah." "That's normal. That's why women need to be incredibly wet for men like you to...you know." "Okay, okay..." "Now curl the fingers towards you- Fuck." You closed your eyes. "Woah, women DO have an on-button." He murmured. "Well, some women won't feel shit when you do that. Others will. All women react differently. It's so important to ask them what they like." You opened your eyes again. "And what do you like?" He smirked. "A mouth on my clit and two fingers inside of me." You whispered and watched him bite his lip. "Sounds like something I should learn." "You want to watch me get off?" You asked softly as his fingers left you. "Do you have...um." "Yes, I have sex toys. Should I show you and use them?" "Oh, so that's common?" "Mostly, yeah." You opened the bedside drawer and got out a little bag. "What does this do?" "You put it over or around your clit. Feels amazing." "And this?" "Oh, that goes inside." "Do these feel better than...men?" "Mostly. But I like sex cause I'm close to someone. You know?" "Yeah." "Which one?" "That one." "Uh, that'll make me come fast. You wanna watch up close or get off too? I don't mind either." "You're not an object, darling." "I know. Answer the question, baby." "Umm." "Pull off my pants." Another jaw tick and he carefully removed what you were wearing. "Push my legs apart." You murmured and he did with a bite of his lip. "Woah, that's all from what we just did?" "What can I say, you turn me on quite a bit." A cheeky smile was interchanged. You placed the vibrator with the two ends around your clit, having it push open his view even more. "Touch yourself, for me, okay?" You bit your lip, got a distracted nod back and pushed the button. When you started to moan you saw him move his hand around his dick, when you started whimpering you saw him look you up and down before fixing his eyes onto your center. When you started to tense and shake with groans and moans he encouraged you, stroked your legs. When your chest quickly rose up and you put your free hand over your mouth he watched white cream leave your body. His too, but he didn't pay attention to that. You were still panting and shaking when he crawled over you, "That looked like it felt awesome." A dumb smirk was on his face, "God, you can't just lay over me like that." "Yes, I can. Didn't you say it might be easier to fuck you if you you already came?" He grinned and you felt his cock growing hard again. "We can try." you whispered a little surprised by his eagerness. "Guide me." "Let your instinct guide you...and maybe your softne- fuck yes." He slowly pushed into you. "God, so tight." He groaned. "So big." You whimpered back. "Gosh, darling. You feel so-" he growled into your ear. "Fuck, you hit that spot so good." The moment he bottomed out he groaned and looked down at you with a smile, "I understand the whole deal now." "You can just manhandle me however you need me. Want you to have a good time." "I'll take you up on that offer." He murmured before drawing back and pushing back into you, making you moan out. "Faster, Bucky, please!" You panted. "Alright, doll." He drove into you faster and faster, getting moan after moan after moan out of you. "Darling, want you to come with me." he whispered into your ear, your face grabbed by his other hand, driving into your body so deep. "Yesyesyes. Bucky, I'm gonna-" He felt you squeeze around his dick and felt a new level of bliss. "Fuck, darling, that feels amazing." "You like how nice I squeeze around your cock?" You bit your lip. "I like how you just say what you want and get so fucking dirty. Holy shit." he panted on top of you before falling down onto the bed next to you. "I corrupted you, huh?" You chuckled cuddling up to him. "I want you to keep corrupting me if that's what corruption feels like." he grumbled before pressing a kiss into your hair.

(You get a cookie if you understand the two pics in this post)

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Here’s my next entry for @badthingshappenbingo! Just one prompt left after this!

I AM NO LONGER ACCEPTING PROMPTS! The single-bone marks on the card indicate which prompts I have received and am going to write, and I finally have prompts that will earn me a bingo once they’ve been posted (but they’re not posted yet)!

This fic has also been posted to FFN and AO3, so you can check it out on my Assortment of Broken Bones collection on there if you like!

This prompt was suggested by @actingwithportals! I went with a slightly different interpretation, since I don’t really want to hurt Miguel. XD; Hope you enjoy!

Prompt: Outnumbered in a Fight Characters: Miguel, Abel, Abuelita (post-movie, pre-epilogue)

---~~~---

"Abel?"

Miguel's cousin looked up from his textbook—he was studying for a big test, and Miguel hated to bother him, but he was pretty sure this was going to drive him crazy if he didn't ask for help. "Um... could you... help me with a computer thing?"

Abel made a face, tossing his textbook across the table. "Sure. Can't be worse than studying for history, I guess."

Grinning, Miguel hurried off to the living room where an old computer sat in the corner, a pair of more modern headphones hooked up to it. The latter was a very recent addition, purchased shortly after the music ban was lifted. Before then, their computer had no sound at all—the speakers had immediately been tossed as soon as they'd acquired it. Now that it was equipped with headphones, many of the Riveras had been taking advantage of it... which was the problem.

"Look at this," Miguel said, waving a hand at the monitor as he scrolled through Youtube.

Abel squinted at the monitor. "Okay... What am I looking at?"

"Look, it's all history videos... I think those are from Papá, and... and a few music things I like, but there's also..." Miguel made a face. "Makeup tutorials." He scrolled past several recommendations with particularly atrocious thumbnails—clearly things recommended to their Tía Gloria.

"Huh. So...?"

"Could you... show me how to sign up? So it can recommend me the things I want? I think I'm gonna go crazy if I have to see another makeup tutorial."

"That's all?" Laughing, Abel gently shoved Miguel away from the computer and took a seat. "Sure, if that's what you want. But uh..." He glanced around the family room—no one else was there at the moment. "Don't let anyone know I did this for you, all right? You're kinda slightly too young to sign up."

"Pff, just by a month," Miguel argued.

With that settled, he watched as Abel guided him through making an email address (Miguel chose the name "GuitarraYZapatos05"), and, through there, set him up with an account. "And... there," Abel said, slipping off the stool. "You're all done. Just log off whenever you're done."

"¡Gracias!" Miguel slid back onto the stool, and Abel left him to browse the site.

Eagerly he put the headphones on and typed a song into the search bar—he'd known how to navigate the website for some time now, even before the ban had lifted, thanks to his friends showing him videos on occasion when he visited their houses. It was a lot nicer to be able to do it whenever he wanted—looking up songs he'd heard in the plaza and watching videos of people playing them. It was a great way to learn to play the songs, since he'd taught himself to do it by sight. Not to mention, he was discovering a lot of new songs this way (though he sheepishly had to skip over songs every so often—ones he was pretty sure if Abuelita ever heard the lyrics to, she would re-ban music... or at least computers, anyway).

For a good hour or so Miguel listened to different songs, at first paying attention to the videos, and then simply losing himself to the music, shutting his eyes and letting the next videos autoplay. This worked out fine for a while, but then...

"What color is the sky, ay mi amor, ay mi amor!"

Miguel jumped back, nearly tipping backwards off his stool, headphones going askew as his heart hammered in his chest. Even then, he could still hear the familiar voice, and the face on the screen was...

It was a friendly looking face, singing on a stage in front of many adoring fans. Occasionally the man would stoop down to sing a particular line to a girl in the audience, who would swoon over him as he winked. But the last time Miguel saw that face, saw that person, he hadn't looked nearly so friendly.

You're not going anywhere!

He could still feel himself held up by the front of his shirt, yanked closer as the eyes of the man—the one who had once been his hero—glared poison into him.

I am the one who is willing to do what it takes to seize my moment... whatever it takes.

"The loco that you make me, it is just un poco crazy!"

The fact that both the terrifying skeleton in his memory and the friendly-looking man in the video were the same person made Miguel feel sick, panicked, and very, very angry. Frantically he clicked several times on the screen to get the video to pause, and scrolled away so he didn't have to look at the man's face anymore. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, shuddering, wishing he could make the memory go away. If anyone deserved to be forgotten, it was Ernesto de la Cruz.

Once the panicked pounding of his heart finally calmed, he looked back at the screen. At first he'd thought that he should sign off for now—that was certainly enough videos for the day, and he felt like playing the real versions of his Papá Héctor's songs so he could get Ernesto's voice out of his head. But then something caught his eye, something he hadn't been paying attention to until now:

OMG, I love Ernesto! he's so flirty here lol

73 people got a bell dropped on their head

this is my favorite DLC song! he has so many good ones though, what a legend

I still have this one on a record. Ernesto himself signed the sleeve! It's my prized possession.

Comments—hundreds of comments, nearly all of them praising Ernesto for his looks, for what a great person he was, for "his" songwriting talent. Miguel felt his face flush in anger as he read more and more of them, all of these people who thought that Ernesto was the songwriting genius, and not his Papá Héctor...!

A part of him recalled that it had only been a month since Dia de Muertos, and the word hadn't gotten out to everyone yet, but it didn't make him feel any less angry. Seeing all of these people praise the man who had killed his great-great-grandfather and then tried to kill him not once, but twice was unbearable.

Unable to stand all the positive comments directed at this man, Miguel quickly found where he could leave a comment of his own, and began typing (a slow process with one finger—he hadn't learned to type properly yet):

Ernesto is the worst musician!! He stole all his songs! Theyre not his! Hes not a real musician!!!

Still fuming, he hit the reply button, and sat back on his stool. One comment probably wouldn't do a whole lot against the hundreds of people fawning over Ernesto here, but he'd thought it might make him feel better to say something.

A notification popped up at the bottom of his screen—someone had... replied to his comment?

Lol, what? Chill out. I'm sorry you don't like the greatest musician of all time.

What? No, that wasn't...! Frustrated, Miguel typed up another reply: Hes not!!! Hes a fraud!!! Hes not a real musician at all!

To his surprise, even more comments came in, this time from several people within moments of each other:

sure, Ernesto is a fraud, just like Elvis, right?

you!!! need to use more!!!! exclamation points!!!!!!

lmfao did you create this account just to troll a DLC video uploaded 7 years ago?

Great, now everyone was making fun of him... but it wasn't funny—Ernesto really did steal all of his songs, and... He shook his head—this wasn't fair. He typed up another reply to the thread (making sure to use fewer exclamation points, if they were going to make fun of him for it): Im telling the truth! He stole all his music from my greatgreat grandpa. He wrote all the songs Ernesto sang including this one.

OMG. OMGGGGG.

no actually dcl is my great great uncle and he told me hmself he wrote all these songs and that if I ever met youtube user ""guitarrayzapatos05" i should tell him that he screwed ur mom

Guys I think this is a kid......

Geez I always hear people say they're related to DLC (wouldn't be surprised, the man supposedly slept around like a rabbit) but this is the first I've heard someone say he stole from their relative. We've got a new nutjob conspiracy theory, fellas.

Adsfjsdflasjfsda;lfjlsajslfdjlds;adj

Miguel wasn't entirely sure what some of this stuff meant, but he did know all these people were mocking him, and with every new reply he felt the anger build in his chest, though his cheeks also felt hot with embarrassment—why was everyone ganging up on him like this? Your all making fun of me! But Im telling the truth!! Ernesto is a bad person and a bad musician! He really did steal from my greatgerat Grandpa!!

He stole from my greatgerat Grandpa too.

Lol how long do you plan to keep this up kid?

Listen, if DLC really did steal his music, we would have heard about it by now. He died almost a century ago. You don't think people haven't looked into this?

he ded 75 years ago moron

omg do u ever shut up

At least one person was being civil with him, but even then they were wrong. Still, Miguel had no idea what to say—his family was still fighting to get this case to the news, but with Mamá Coco having recently passed and his baby sister nearly here, they hadn't had a lot of time to work on it. But maybe he could bring something else up. He typed as fast as he could, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes:

I know he stole it! I found out when I went to the Land of the Dea—

The screen went dark.

Miguel sat there for a moment, stunned, before he heard a slobbery chomping noise coming from beneath the desk. Looking down, he spotted a familiar tail poking out near his stool. "Dante!" he cried, hopping down to yank the dog away.

As he suspected, the power cord was in the dog's mouth, and he was chewing on it lazily.

He was normally used to Dante getting in the way of things, but he felt angrier than normal at the dog. "No! No! Bad dog!" he cried, and swatted Dante on the nose.

The dog whined, immediately dropping the cord and squirming away from Miguel's grasp.

"S-stupid dog, wha'd you do that for? I was just trying to tell them about—!"

"What's going on in here?"

Both Miguel and Dante turned around to see Abuelita hurrying into the room. "I-it's nothing, Abuelita," Miguel said, and frantically wiped at his face.

Abuelita crossed her arms, looking from Miguel, to Dante, to the computer. "Nothing, huh! Is that computer box giving you trouble?"

"I—no, it's... it's not that..." He winced as Dante licked at his face and pushed him away.

"Don't give me that. It must be something, if it's got you so upset."

Abel's voice came from the hallway: "Ummm... did something happen?" Stepping into the room, he blinked at the monitor. "Huh, why's it—WOAH!" Quickly he got down on his hands and knees, grabbing the partially-chewed power cord and plugging it back in. Hitting the "on" button on the machine, he heaved a sigh of relief when the computer began to boot up again. "Geez, I thought you'd broken it."

"Oh, is that all?" Abuelita chuckled. "See, it's fine, mijo."

Dante looked up at the computer and barked at it, and Miguel frowned, using the stool to push himself back up to his feet. He rubbed the heel of his hand into his eyes. "Yeah, I... guess."

"Wait... what did you do on there?" Abel asked, suddenly worried. He quickly glanced from Abuelita and back to Miguel, biting his lip.

Sighing, Miguel, wrapped his arms around himself. "I just... saw some dumb people talking... about de la Cruz," he mumbled.

"Ugh, that man?" Abuelita said, shaking her head. Miguel wondered if she realized she said it in the exact same way she used to refer to Papá Héctor.

"People talking about... oooh, you read the comments, didn't you?" Abel asked, and laughed. "Never read the comments, Miguel!"

Feeling his chest constrict, Miguel balled his hands into fists and held them at his side, glaring at his primo. "It's not that! They were—they were talking about how great de la Cruz was, and—and when I told them he wasn't great, he was a thief, they... they just made fun of me!"

"¡¿Qué?!" Abuelita shouted, then shot an accusatory glare at the monitor. "I will not have people mocking my grandson! Where are they?"

"No, no, Abuelita, it's not like that." For a moment it looked like Abel would laugh again, but he saw how serious Miguel was about this, and frowned. "Well... they don't know yet, Miguel."

"But I tried to tell them!" Miguel swung out his hands, and Dante whimpered, butting his head against Miguel's leg. "I—I tried to tell them that they were wrong, but they just... kept making fun of me. And there were so many of them! I just..." Finally he brought his arms down, grasping his right wrist in his left hand and staring down at the floor. "I just felt like I was all alone."

Feeling his Abuelita's arm wrap around his shoulders, Miguel looked up to see her looking at him seriously. "You're not alone, mijo," she said. "Every single one of us here in this family are standing right behind you. We know the truth about Papá Héctor and that man now, and we won't stop fighting until the whole world knows."

"Y... you mean it?" he asked, hope creeping into his heart again.

"Absolutely. He is family, and we won't give up on him."

A huge smile spread across his face as he wrapped both arms around his abuelita, hugging her. "Gracias, Abuelita."

Laughing, Abuelita returned his hug with a bone-crushing one of her own, squeezing around his back until he was left gasping for air. "Now go have fun, mijo, and don't worry about what the people on that computer box say. They'll understand soon enough!" With that, she happily walked back toward the kitchen to start on dinner, leaving Miguel and his cousin alone.

Abel shifted on his feet, glancing from the computer to Miguel before giving an awkward laugh. "I, uh... know we went through the trouble of setting up a Youtube account for you, but uh... maybe you should stick to Spotify."

[goldenworldsabound]

I’m Thankful For You

Modern au, Philly comes over for Thanksgiving. Cute awkwardness ensues.

"Um, we cooould do that thing where we say things we're thankful for!" Wendy suggested, grinning at Philly. He looked back at her with a mixture of disbelief and disgust.

"Is that... really a thing people do at Thanksgiving?" He asked.

Wendy nodded. "Yep. You should try being grateful and nice for once anyway." She joked, reclining on the couch next to Philly. 

He glared at her. "Fine. Whatever. You go first."

She laughed. "I'm surprised you said yes. But sure! I'm thankful for...the latest Poke'mon game," Philly scoffed, but she continued. "Whoever invented pumpkin pie, aaaaand your terrible jokes."

"My jokes aren't terrible!" Philly shot back. "Your list sure was though, what the hell was that?"

Wendy mimed being offended, putting her hand to her chest. "How rude! Show me how it's done then, why don't ya?"

He crossed his arms. "Damn right I will." He cleared his throat. "I'm thankful for how badass I am, I'm thankful for Bessie, and I'm thankful that it didn't snow today. Oh, and for booze."

Wendy sighed, grinning. "Because those are so much better!" She looked thoughtful. "I'm thankful for the time we spent cooking together, and that you didn't ruin the turkey."

"Oy, that's almost a little back-handed, don't you think?"

"Is it?" She shrugged, smiling impishly. 

He rolled his eyes. "I'm thankful for the food too, and your good cooking skills, and..." his face softened. "I'm thankful for you."

Wendy felt her eyes widen at the admission. She felt her heart pounding, her face warming.

He blushed violently as he realized what he'd said.

"Er, I just mean, y-you know..." He rubbed at the back of his head, looking away, while Wendy gripped her legs with her hands, staring down at them as she tried to figure out how to react.

"Do, um, do you want more pie?!" Wendy asked suddenly, face still as red as a tomato.

"Uh, no I'm...I'm good." Philly replied, hazarding a glance at her. Upon meeting her shy gaze, he couldn't help but look away again. Geez, why'd he have to say something so weird? He'd gone and made the whole thing awkward hadn't he.

"Okay, I'm gonna get some pie." She stood up, but paused. "I'm...thankful for you, too." She mumbled, before walking to the kitchen.

Philly stared after her, slack jawed. He hadn't really expected her to...reciprocate. He put a hand on his face, sighing into it, unable to hold back a small smile. It felt good though. It felt so good. She was thankful for him? How was that even possible?

She returned with a plate of pie, looking sheepish. She sat down next to him again, tentatively using a fork to put a piece of pie into her mouth.

"Um, so..." She started, still chewing on the piece of pie. "Do you-"

"I can't understand you with a piece of pie in your mouth, nerd." Philly interrupted with a smirk, trying to ease the tension in the room.

Wendy covered her mouth with a hand. "Shaddup." She swallowed, mock-glaring at him before continuing. "Do you wanna watch something? Like, uh, I dunno, I'm a few episodes behind on that baking show I like..." She tapped her fork nervously, looking away.

Philly raised a brow. "Oh, alright, I'll watch your dumb baking show or whatever." He elbowed her, making it clear his comment was in jest.

"Thanks..." She mumbled, smiling shyly. That caught him off-guard, and he found himself blushing.

"Yeah, sure, whatever, it's no big deal..." He mumbled back, looking away.

She turned the show on, dimming the lights a bit as well. He raised a brow at that, but didn't say anything. Why was he feeling nervous? They were just gonna watch a baking show. He also noticed that she'd put her plate of pie down on the coffee table, and seemed not to be eating it anymore.

It couldn't have been more than 5 minutes. Wendy casually made some comment about the challenge and how it hard it seemed, and then...leaned against him. She kept talking as if nothing had happened.

"Oh man, that looks like a fun design." She commented, blushing despite her calm exterior. Philly tentatively moved his arm, wrapping it around her. He felt her scoot a bit closer. "Doesn't it look delicious? I want to eat delicious cakes." She looked up at him, smiling nervously.

He met her gaze, blushing. She was really not gonna acknowledge this, huh? "Uh, yeah, it looks good." He could tell how distracted he sounded. And he was very distracted. The feel of her against him was making his heart beat out of control. Even in the dim light he could see the hint of a blush on her cheeks.

She pouted at him. "Aren't you- aren't you paying attention at all?" She asked, trying to ignore the blush she could plainly feel on her face.

"Of- of course I am! You aren't even looking at the TV!" Philly pointed out, glancing between Wendy and the TV pointedly.

"Shut up." She replied with a smile, turning her attention back to the show. "Oh no that one looks like it's gonna be even better."

---------------------------------------------------

When the episode ended, Wendy stopped the autoplay with her phone. Feeling sleepy after all the food and the feeling of Philly's warm body against hers, she turned her head to rest it on his chest more comfortably, closing her eyes. She could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

He stared at her, eyes and face softening. Was this really happening? Did it mean...did it mean she liked him? In the same way that he...? The thought made him blush, and he wondered if she could feel how much his heart rate had picked up. But...fuck, it felt nice. It felt so nice. He could hardly stand it. Someone who cared about him...

He couldn't help himself. He gently stroked her hair. He felt her draw breath suddenly. He wondered if he'd messed up. But she smiled, nuzzling her face into his chest, hiding her own blush. He put a hand over his mouth, unable to handle how nice this was. She was so cute, and she was snuggling him, he could hardly stand it.

"You shouldn't fall asleep here. You should go to bed." He said teasingly, laughing a bit, stroking her hair again.

"That seems rude to my guest..." Wendy replied, sleepily cracking an eye to look up at him.

"Well, if you're so tired, it's okay, I think." He ruffled her hair gently. "You won't offend me, ever."

"Then..." She looked away for a moment, and he was surprised to see her blush. "Why don't you just...stay here? Just...for tonight." She put her face in her hands. "S-sorry, maybe that was too forward-"

"N-no, that's, I mean, I...I'd be happy too." He blushed as well, wrapping his arms around her in a hug, putting his face against the top of her head shyly. He pulled back after a moment. "As long as you're sure."

"I'm sure!" She replied quickly, jerking her head up to meet his gaze, putting her hands on his chest. They both blushed, staring at each for a moment. "Y-yeah..." She looked to the side, gripping at his shirt.

They were both quiet for a moment, blushing madly unsure where to go from here.

"Do you wanna watch another episode?" Philly offered up nervously.

Wendy nodded cutely, and they both seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "Yeah, if you don't mind..." she relinquished her grip on his shirt almost reluctantly. He leaned back against the couch, visibly watching her, his arm over the back of it. She returned to leaning against him as fiddled with starting the next episode, and he dropped his arm onto her shoulder, trying to look casual about it.

The episode began to play.