#can you imagine this man coming to your house and rambling about how cool his brother is???

[illdothehotvoice]

for the mario characters drawing thing ummm rosalina!!! i remember her being really pretty in your style ^_^

AAA! Thank you ^^ QAQ

I'm actually VERY happy with how this came out (despite fighting my tablet the entire time hdjkgnfhd) Rosalina does not come easy to me lol.

I wanted to draw her Aurora outfit from Mario Kart Tour and I'm very pleased with the way it looks qwq.

[princessbrunette]

Sunshine!Reader just adores rafe. like i imagine she’s a friend of sarah who has always had a crush on her cool older brother, following him around and watching his every move cs she’s so obsessed with him x rafe who is nonchalant at his very core & basically just ignores her presence even when she’s practically hanging off his arm & living in his skin. “Why is it that everytime i turn around, you’re there?” he just raises his eyebrow at her. “i’m not your friend, kid.” - 🍄

no bc im salivating …….. hang on let me cook

₊˚🦢✩ 🎀⊹☁️♡

sunshine!reader who’s always at the cameron home because her home life is bad— more specifically, daddy issues !! it’s a wonder how you’re so sweet n happy toward the people around you when you’re being treated so poorly!

you follow rafe around like a lost puppy, because duh — his nonchalance hurts you in all the right ways that just makes you crave his attention more, a product of your bad relationship with your father. you’re over at tannyhill more and more, increasingly without sarah being there as she starts a life with the pogues— but you don’t mind, happy anywhere as long as you’re not at home.

“are you goin’ anywhere today rafe? can i come?” you seemingly pop out of nowhere in the kitchen, startling him as he closes the fridge— clutching his chest for effect.

“jesus, why is it everytime i turn around you’re there? ‘you ever go n’hang around at your own house or what?” he busies himself, carrying a carton of juice in one hand and moving you out the way with the other as he passes.

“i prefer to be here! hanging out with you!” you chirp and he stops in the doorway, turning to look at you.

“kid, i’m not your friend. a’ight?” he drawls before heading out, the same time his father is entering the room. ward sends you a sympathetic look before he’s trailing after rafe.

“son you gotta be nice to the girl. i didn’t raise you like that.” he nags, speeding up to walk in time with the younger man.

“why? she’s practically living rent free here, should be able to talk to her how i want.” rafe complains, uncapping the carton and taking a swig.

“her home life, it’s not great.” he lowers his voice, swivelling his head round to make sure you weren’t lurking. “she’s — she’s sarah’s friend. i’m taking pity on her, think her dad doesn’t treat her all too well.” he rambles and rafes movements slow to stop, eyes trailing up to meet his fathers, suddenly attentive.

“huh.” he speaks, sinister intrigue occupying his gaze which his father barely picked up on. he continued speaking but rafe had heard all he needed to hear, concocting ways to use this to his advantage.

the opportunity presented itself sooner than he was expecting once he’d got you backed up against the wall in the hallway a few days later, practically pinning you there.

“you— you know it’s time you start respecting me if you wanna be hangin’ out around here. especially now my dads on his trip. i’m older than you, the man of the house now and — and that means you answer to me.” he drawls, quiet and intimate— so close his breath warms your face as you blink up at him.

“i do listen to you rafe.” you chime, losing a little bit of pep in your step under his intimidating gaze. you knew something was up, but you couldn’t help but melt — finally feeling like rafe gave a shit about you. that he was going to save you.

“wanna see you actin’ like it from now on… you know i realised,” his finger comes to his temple, lightly tapping. “you’re missin’ something. someone to guide you. an authority figure… ‘nd it must be your lucky day ‘cus i can be just that. you’ll… be in good hands.” he now drags his finger lightly down the side of your face, scooping round to beneath your chin to lift it.

“i thought you said you didn’t wanna be my friend.” you whisper, eyes flickering between his mouth and his eyes, the proximity tempting.

“didn’t say we would be friends… i was thinking something a little more… hands on.” his drops his voice to a mere whisper, hovering his lips right over yours. you give in to the urge, craning up and pressing your lips against his, which he lets slide for maybe two seconds — before drawing back and slapping you, grabbing your jaw instantly to bring your gaze back.

you gasp, tears springing to your eyes, usual smile wiped from your expression even more so now. “you don’t… you don’t do that without my permission. alright? i said you answer to me now.” he grits his teeth, squeezing your jaw just a little harder making your brows furrow in fear.

he ends up not being too mean on you, especially when you’re later cumming around his cock, the oldest cameron forcing you to call him ‘dad’ whilst you do so.

₊˚🦢✩ 🎀⊹☁️♡

[nmakii]

Hii! Hear me out on this, right, Alastor (in your current yandere husband au) has one-on-one bonding with our lovely Noah. (I have a cat named Noah...lowkey imagining him here.) Idk what dads do with kids but for the sake of plot I'm going to call it hunting. Reader is sitting quietly as Noah tells her all about his day in the forest and how he got to see his food before it was his food! She starts thinking that no amount of nurture can overpower someone's nature. Reader doesn't hate her son...but she's just worried and is trying her best, because in her mind, she's still a single mom and always will be. (Rightfully so) Alastor is egging this on and almost trying to get reader to lose it in front of Noah, to prove something. Other things ! Alastor is def not happy with one kid lmao. Seven years is a long age gap...better hurry up! He wants his Emilia....not because his mother is asking for it or anything like it! Speaking of his mother...god rest her soul man...i lowkey would just marry him for her to be my legal mother (in-law). Rip mom...fly high girl... (Ps, can i please hug you platonically, i literally love you and your writing so much. Please remember that you've made so many cool things and will continue to make cool things no matter which path you go. Love you girly (gn), a little more than Alastor's mom) - Charry Anon

WE’RE GONNA FLY AWAY FROM HERE

[before you read this, read the rest of the story!]

— the more and more alastor influences your son, the more he becomes just like his father. but, why stop at just one child?

— i love u i will make MORE yandere alastor bc hes now my fave

you hated this house. no matter how much alastor tried to hide it, the subtle scent of blood reeked from all over this house.

you oh, so desperately wanted to run away— hop on a train all the way to long island. but, it isn’t so simple anymore. you had a son to think of, a son who’s growing scarily closer to his father.

the thought of hurting noah might have never crossed alastor’s mind, but he wasn’t above threatening it to bring you back home. and above all that, you couldn’t leave him alone with this wolf.

and so, you stayed.

“and then, papa told me to stay quiet… and he shot the turkey! papa took me to his butcher room and showed how get the yummy turkey meat! y’know mama, papa has lots of meat in his butcher room.” your son rambled on, kneeling on a stool by the kitchen counter as you prepare for dinner. “lots of meat, you say?” you raised an eyebrow. “…that sounds really fun, baby.” you sighed.

it’s only been a month since he forced you back. and, noah’s already calling alastor ‘papa’. he tainted your sweet boy’s mind— ‘mama lied to you, she wanted to keep you all to herself. she’s really selfish, but then again, i can’t blame her!’

and, you couldn’t protest. if you did, if you broke the rose-tinted filter alastor created— he would hurt you. not physically, alastor is still a ‘gentleman’. he’d hurt you mentally, break your little mind until you can’t do anything but nod your head.

alastor would never strike his hand on noah. after all, deep down, there’s some part of him that’s still in love with you, albeit in his own twisted way. and, noah is apart of you, alastor couldn’t bear to hurt him, not unless he’s misbehaving…

“mama, can we have the turkey we hunted for dinner?!” noah asked excitedly, slamming his hands against the counter over and over again. “sure, baby… but, remember before..? you got in trouble with mr. yee because you released all his chickens…” you asked, quite desperate. this little boy, the one who finds hunting fun. he is nothing like the one who wanted to become vegan after he found out where chicken comes from, despite failing because of his love for chicken burgers.

“yeah, but papa showed me how fun hunting is!” he squealed. at the mention of papa, alastor laughed, carrying noah from behind, tickling his belly as he kissed your little boy’s head. “talking to mama about our little trip, huh?” alastor grinned.

“ah, alastor… dinner will be ready in a half hour.” you glared at him. “no worries, my love. it just means that i have a half hour to play with our beautiful son!” he smugly said. he saw the hatred in your eyes the moment he said ‘our’.

he was trying to make you lose your shit. make you seem like a hysterical woman. that way, if you even tried to divorce him, noah would be left in his care. now that you were older and wiser, you wouldn’t play into his little trap.

“alright, you two have fun.” you begrudgingly smiled. alastor’s eyes widened, showing his shock for just one split second. alastor nudged noah, “go on for a second. papa wants to talk with mama.”

oh god, what now?

once noah left, alastor went behind you, straddling your waist. “what is it, alastor?” you groaned. “i want another child, darling” he whispered against your ear. “i visited my mother with noah last week, she adored him, my love. she said she’d adore a granddaughter this time. she even picked out a name, emilia.” he rambled on. “as much as i love your mother, i don’t want another child, alastor.” you hissed out.

“oh, but it’s not just my mother, dear. little noah also wants a little brother or sister of his own.” at the thought of a little sister for noah, it would keep him busy, away from alastor, wouldn’t it? he’d gain those brotherly instincts that are so reminiscent of the soft hearted boy you raised.

“…alright…” you frowned. alastor’s grip on your hips tightened as he pressed kisses onto your neck. “good girl.” your head leaned back as you melted into his touch. as much as you didn’t want to, the warm sensation of his soft lips on your skin was to die for. “after dinner, darling.” he grinned, finally leaving you alone.

what had you done to be forsaken with this monster?

[rubra-wav]

do you think vox would play videogames,, do you think you'd be able to play videogames on him,, and if you could, what would it be like for him?

OMG imagine you're playing some game on his screen, and you ask him if he can get closer because you can't see the game properly, he complains but gets closer anyway, you say he's still too far, he gets pissy and insults your eyesight because he's already close enough, so you take the matter into your own hands and pull him into your lap‼️ then the game crashes because he gets flustered

sorry for the ramble but i've been thinking abt this for SO long 😭

- 💫

Vox x reader: 'Frontseat gaming' oneshot

A/N Reader is playing Stardew Valley bc I say so (it is peak)

Vox would 100% be the type of gamer to just go "You're bad" at every step and bully you when you fail, and I will not hear anything less

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, just vox getting seriously flustered (we love to see it), romantic/crush reader

Here's me also just kinda discussing more onto this topic but not in drabble form.

- Your little character entered the mines, you frantically switching between squares as you fought monsters flying at you from every direction.

- ...Then you promptly died because you couldn't see properly.

- You inhaled deeply in irritation as you watched 3000 gold empty from your wallet, pressing a hand to your forehead before looking somewhat in annoyance at the demon in front of you.

- "Could you move closer, please? I can't see properly when you're that far away, man." You complained.

- Vox had snickered when you died, then did so again as you asked that.

- "I'm literally a metre away from you, and you 'can't see properly'? Just admit you're.. how do you say it?" Vox pretends to think as his mouth and eyes and brows appear overlayed over your house. He snaps his fingers, then raises his brows with a smug look down at you. "Fucking coping at this point."

- It was very rare of an opportunity for Vox to allow someone to play anything on his screen. He thought it would be a somewhat entertaining opportunity, however (him getting to have you stare at him in concentration for a prolonged period of time and having the excuse to stare right back at you)

- The plug-in process for your keyboard and mouse was a little awkward, to say the least, but it went off without a hitch apart from that.

- You grumble out curses at him and shuffle closer to him when it's clear he's not moving his ass to be a bitch about it, about 2 feet in between you now.

- Vox's face disappears again with one last condescending 'mhmmm' and leaves you to continue.

- It's better, and you can see more, but you once again are met with a death screen with even more of a loss then last time.

- "Goddammit!" You yell, smacking your keyboard not hard enough to damage it but hard enough for the buttons to mash loudly under your fist. Vox laughs loudly, shoulders shaking as he tries to contain himself.

- "You're so fucking bad, how are you this bad at the cute little farming game, (name)?" He teases you, sharp smile coming into sight over the death screen.

- "Shut the hell up, Vox! I still can't see jackshit. Come closer!" You demand, which in turn has Vox's laughing mouth fall into a frown, eyes coming back into sight with a clearly irritated expression.

- "It's not my fucking fault your eyes are that shit. Don't you fucking talk to me like tha-"

- His scolding and eye getting ready for hypnosis is interrupted as you angrily grumble, leaning forward to grip his hips and pull him closer.

- Vox's face starts to heat up, him stuttering out in disbelief as a sound similar to fans turning on to cool a computer slowly cracks to life as Vox suddenly finds himself pulled into your lap, either one of his legs resting splayed out behind your back.

- "There. Now I can see just fine." You sigh out with relief, concentration now on your face as your hands gently wrap around either side of his monitor to pull it down to face towards you.

- You notice his surprised expression glitching out finally and feel the way his screen has heated up massively under your hands.

- ...Then watch as there's promptly an error message with a loud 'dun!' sound.

- "Oh shi-!" You snort, poking his screen a couple of times. "Earth to Boxhead~" you sing out, and then you're met with a very flustered Vox once again coming back to his senses.

- "Fucking stop that!" He swats your hand poking him continuously away lightly, prompting you to once again laugh.

- It's silent for a couple of seconds outside of you laughing at his sour expression, face now just normal outside of the bright blue blush across his cheeks resembling a heart monitor beating with what was undeniably his own heart's current slowing frantic rate.

- After calming down a bit, Vox hesitantly does something that surprises even himself.

- He wraps his legs around your waist to bring himself closer to you.

- It was your turn to blush now as his face was just barely inches from yours, your gamer rage wearing off into embarrassment at realising the position you had pulled him into.

- "There," Vox's voice is lower than usual, more unsure than you've ever heard him you think. "Can you see me clearly now?"

- You somewhat get the feeling that he's not exactly talking about your game being displayed on his screen with the way his red eyes look down at you, blue pupils rather large under half lidded eyes.

- You gulp, then force a laugh. "Y-yeah. This is good, thanks." You shakily pick up your mouse again and begin pressing at the keyboard now next to you two.

- Your mind isn't exactly on the game as his eyes and mouth once again flicker off the display to show just your game, and you once again die.

- "See? You're just bad."

- "Shut up!"

Me when I set up a literally perfect kiss scene and then don't give it to my readers

Masterlist

[weministertomonsters]

Naga Father (Araza) x gender-neutral reader

Anyone remember that short monster imagine I did of a naga and a babysitter? Well, I expanded it a bit. :)

•─────✧─────•

You're looking forward to a free weekend, but when you receive a call on Friday night for a babysitting job, you decide to take it. As much as you'd like to take some time for yourself, you do need the money.

"You come highly recommended," the gruff voice on the other end says.

"Well, I'm good with kids," you reply, idly curling a strand of your kinky hair through your fingers. "And I often clean up the house a little if I have the spare time. It really helps out the parents who work late or have extra shifts."

"I will see for myself. Come by at eight tomorrow morning," the man- or at least you think it is- says, and hangs up.

Oof. So it's one of those parents then. You can almost predict how the day is going to go. You're exhausted, so after you feed your cat, you have a quick dinner and all but collapse onto your bed. You sleep so deeply that your alarm shrieking in your ear barely pierces through your dreams.

Groaning, you peel your face off your pillow and try to remember what you set it for. Great. You hop out of bed and shamble into the kitchen to fix some coffee. After that and a warm shower, you feel much better. You drag a brush through your hair and put on some casual, comfortable clothes, perfect for chasing after kids all day.

It's not often you babysit a single child, so this is going to be interesting.

You get there on time, but spend almost a full minute lingering in your car, wondering if you maybe got the wrong address. The house is huge, with white brick walls, big windows, and a sprawling yard that looks a little ramble-y and overgrown. You don't spot a single wayward toy.

Well, there's only one way to know. You get out and trudge up the crunchy gravel path. The doorbell echoes through the house but you don't hear any footsteps. The door swings open suddenly and… Well, you're not looking at a person, that's for sure.

A well-sculpted human torso tapers off into a snake tail that coils so far back that you can't see the end of it. His eyes are a bright gold with slitted pupils.

You're pretty certain this is the guy you spoke to on the phone yesterday. It's not hard for you to guess that he answered the door like this as a shock factor. To see how you'd react to a non-human, to judge if you're one of those paranoid types to start screaming about demons and evil.

You definitely aren't. The reason you're staring isn't because you've never seen one of his kind before (though you haven't because the town you live in is really small), but because he answered the door without a stitch of clothing on. You'd think he'd at least wear a shirt, but no.

He looks fresh out of the shower too, with the ends of his dark hair dripping water onto his tan skin. He has claws and scales on his forearms. Good lord, he's built nicely, with a bit of lean muscle.

"Have I surprised you?" He drawls, and you note the muted lisp of the 's', which you caught on the phone as well.

"Yes. Um, I mean no." You chuckle nervously, tucking your hands into your pockets. "It's cool."

Your eyes are still lingering shamelessly on his chest. It's his fault for answering the door like that, you reason. He's practically inviting you to look.

"Well, come in," he says, slipping to the side and opening the door a little wider. "Remove your shoes."

"Thanks." You step in and slip your shoes off, marveling at how clean the floors are.

For a moment, you just observe each other. He takes you in, an eyebrow hitching slightly. You look… Like a rainbow. Your afro is dyed in chunks so it looks like a fluffy snowcone. You're wearing a bright t-shirt with overalls that have a cute white rabbit embroidered on the front. Your socks are covered in funky polka dots, but they're very comfy. You've learned from experience not to put on jewelry for babysitting jobs, but you never go anywhere without the dainty three-leafed clover necklace your mother gave you years ago.

"Have I surprised you?" You echo his earlier words.

"You look very… Human," he responds with a slight curl of his lip.

"Let me guess, you don't like my kind?"

"Not really, no. However I cannot shift my schedule further, so I require someone to watch my son. And my community has an annoying lack of babysitters. Thus, you."

"Me," you echo with a slight smile.

He turns and slithers into the kitchen. You can hear a muted hiss as his scales scrape over the floorboards.

"Um, am I early?" You ask, even though you know you're right on time.

"I leave in half an hour," he says as he pours a cup of tea. "I want to observe how you interact with my son."

"I understand. I promise to take good care of him, Mr…? I didn't catch your name yesterday."

"Because I never gave it to you. Mr. Araza."

"Tobi," you reply.

"And how do I address you?" He asks, turning to sweep his gaze over your frame.

You know that you're perfectly straddling the fence between feminine and masculine, and you like to keep it that way. With some people, it's fun to see them fume and struggle to fit you into a box or label. With Mr. Araza, you can tell he's just curious.

"Just Tobi is fine," you reply with a small smile.

He nods. His tongue flickers out of his mouth and that startles you. It's just so pink and thin, with a delicate pronged tip. You clear your throat and try to look casual. His eyes narrow slightly and you pray he can't use his tongue to figure out what exactly you're feeling or the way your hormones just spiked, or you're fucked.

"I take suppressants," he says like he just read your thoughts, moving close enough that you catch a hint of the fragrant tea in his hand.

"It is tiring to live in a world saturated by human hormones. Your kind is terrible at hiding their true reactions. As such, I suppress my abilities to give me some peace of mind. You can keep your twisted desires to yourself."

Oh wow, okay.

You don't try to defend yourself but you do take a small step back. You don't like feeling cornered. His eyes take in every small detail and you have a feeling that even on suppressants, he can read you just fine.

"Papa?" A small voice speaks up, and both of you look towards the kitchen doorway.

Mr. Araza's son is so dang cute, is your first thought.

You've never seen a young naga before and he's only five. His tail is small, almost stubby. He has no claws or scales other than the ones on his tail. On the whole, he looks far less intimidating. He's also wearing a shirt.

His pupils are wide and curious as his eyes fall on you, but they shrink as soon as he looks at his father.

"I finished," he says softly, scooting closer and holding up a small handwriting booklet.

As soon as Mr. Araza takes the booklet, he shoots out of the room, terribly clumsy. You've seen videos of actual snakes on tiles, their bodies twisting but going nowhere. He sort of looks like that. It could be cute, but more than anything, it's uncomfortable to watch him struggle knowing that he lives in a house that's almost exclusively covered in sleek wood floors.

"Are you punishing him?" You ask softly. "I mean, it's none of my business, but-"

"Yes," Mr. Araza says, staring down at the page with a frown.

The letters and numbers his son has traced are wobbly.

"That's really not bad," you say quietly. "For a five-year-old."

"He ate a mouse."

"What?" You sputter.

"That's why I'm punishing him. He caught and ate a mouse."

You try very hard to school your expression and you don't know what to say. You already guessed that nagas are carnivores, so you're not sure whether eating mice is a bad thing and why.

Mr. Araza sighs, looking rather aggravated as he closes the booklet and tosses it on the counter.

"Unregulated food sources are strictly forbidden. I cannot know what that mouse has eaten and if it is clean or not. He knows this, but ate it anyway."

"Oh. I will, um, make sure he doesn't eat any mice or err, spiders or anything else." You say.

That seems to please him. "I have a chart on the fridge with his nutritional needs and portion sizes.  The meat is in the fridge. Let it thaw to room temperature but do not cook it. Not even a little. Understood?"

"Crystal clear," you say.

He huffs. "I will be in my room getting ready. Do acquaint yourself with him. He is in his room, first door on the left."

You do as he has asked, climbing the stairs up to the kid's room. The fact that nagas move on their tails means that he's a bit shorter than human kids his age. With that in mind, the doorknob is way too high up.

You hear the hiss of scales coming up the stairs. The more you think about it, nothing in the house is accommodating to nagas. You're pretty sure if you checked the bathroom you'd find a human toilet.

"Um, Mr. Araza?" You turn to him.

He pauses in the doorway of his bedroom and glances over his shoulder. "Yes?"

"Why are you living in this house? It's a nice place, but it's built for humans," you say. "I understand if your reasons are private, but what about your son? Don't you want things to be easy for him?"

Mr. Araza blinks, double eyelids closing over his eyes for a moment. "Most of the world is built to accommodate your kind alone. I will not have my son fumbling in unfamiliar surroundings. He will learn how to manage."

"Isn't it a little soon?" You ask, but all you get as a response is the thud of his door closing.

You blow out a breath and knock on his son's bedroom door.

"Can I come in?"

"Okay," a small, shy voice replies.

You push open the door and step into a cluttered, but clean room. Colorful drawings are stuck all over the walls and most of them feature two-legged blobs. Humans. You idly wonder what his father thinks of that.

"Hi," you say to the boy. "Sam, right?"

His bed is piled high with stuffed animals and blankets, stacked up around him like a little nest. He nods, curly hair falling into his eyes.

"Are you going to watch me while Papa works?" He says, his lisp far more pronounced than his father's.

"Yes. We can do anything you want," you tell him.

"Can we make pictures?" He says, eyes going round.

"Sure!" You say.

He has an entire setup, a scratched and worn table, and a giant box filled with coloring pencils, crayons, small jars of poster paint, and oil pastels. It's pretty messy, and you make a mental note to sort everything out nicely later.

He takes a piece of paper and gives you one as well, and throws himself enthusiastically into it. His tongue flickers out of his mouth subconsciously, and you try not to jump each time.

"What are you drawing?" You ask him after a while

"A tree!" He says, and points at a darker, tangled shape in the branches. "And that's Papa when he rescued a cat."

"That's nice of him to do," you say.

He nods, smearing green oil pastels to make grass and leaves. "The lady wasn't nice. Papa gave her the cat but she called him a bad word and walked away. She didn't say thank you!"

"Some people are meanies," you say. "But I'm sure the cat was grateful."

You see movement in the corner of your eye. Mr. Araza is standing in the doorframe, putting on a tie. He's wearing a crisp suit with gold cuff links that match his eyes.

"I'm going to send your Papa off, okay? Keep coloring," you say, standing up.

"His mother used to color with him like that," Mr. Araza says as you near him.

"Really. I think we'll get along okay," you murmur as you follow him down the stairs. "Sam is sweet."

"You wouldn't like to see him when he's hungry," Mr. Araza huffs with a flicker of amusement. "I will call at midday."

With that, he leaves. You turn to head back up the stairs. Sam is done with his picture.

"Do you want to do another one?" You ask, and he nods eagerly.

This is going to be a piece of cake.

Part 2

[whataboutsimple]

Heyy, just wanted to ask your opinion

What are your thoughts on Cassie Rose and Lukas. It came out of nowhere. It seemed pretty fun though. The killer and the guy that was framed for the killers murders

It's not like I ship it. Not really. I'm not sure how if it'll work out as a ship at all. But I definitely want to see them having to go on dates together cause their cat's have become besties

(Yeah.. I'm going to come here from time to time now. Hope you don't mind)

Oooooh~ you already know I can make them work out as I ship:)

All we need to do is slightly punch canon in the face *punches it with a strength of Godzilla* and pretend Lukas never really left the Ocelots and was playing along with them the whole time.

That way it'll make him just as much of a villain as Cassie is. Twisted love to the point where they both sight dreamily, thinking how they can can rid of Jesse together.

Or we can work other way around and actually let Lukas get back to the mansion to save Cassie, since no one really deserves to die from hunger with their cat on their hands. Sure they will send her in jail or something, but I think Lukas is pretty much capable to take her under his wing and help "redeem" herself.

They can bond together over building, since Cassie did built this mansion and she's probably an Old Builder too. Maybe she can teach him how to deal with a sword, and he'll teach her how to oneshot with a bow. I think Lukas would be pretty much interested in listening her rambling about Redstone and Potions, maybe even homworld where she's from.

Of course it won't take only a week, she will be salty for a long time, but in my opinion the right company around will cool her down. Plus they can promise her to help to get back in homworld.

And if we're talking about notaship version, I have plenty of ideas actually here.

As you probably know, I'm rooting for "Cassie Rose as an Old Builder" trope, because for me it only makes sense. However the second trope I'm rooting for is that the closest thing she had to a parental figure was Soren. Because to me he seems like the most hearty person.

Hadrian is hot crazy ass old man.

Mevia is hot crazy ass old woman.

Both Isa and Harper are too focused on work and probably don't know how to deal with children (and they're a bit too salty too).

Otto was probably too boring for her.

And than there's Soren, who doing crazy thing, experiments, dance and sings, just what a child needs.

Well, at least until she hit her teen years, where Mevia started effecting her, turning poor girl into maniac she became.

So, what was that for?

Let's remember some part of the fandom counts Soren as a parental figure for Lukas.. yeah! Siblings Cassie and Lukas trope!:D

It actually would be funny, knowing how different they are. Lukas probably will built something beautiful and rainbowish, when Cassie would go with "And now let's add just a bit of lava.." "NOOOOO!"

Also hilarious would be if we add Aiden there. He can be a friend of Lukas, his lover or Cassie's friend or lover. Either way he would put lots of chaos.

After the Sky City events, if Aiden bonds with Lukas, Cassie would probably go into the protective mode and promise to snap his head if he hurt her lil bro.

If Aiden bonds with Cassie however, Lukas will worryingly run around trying to prevent them from killing someone.

One more trope us rivalry of course.

Thanking the letter in S2, we know Cassie probably escaped and now very angry with Jesse. Knowing her love for difficulty and non-standart ways for the win, maybe just maybe, instead of straight approaching Jesse, she'll decided to go after his friends first.

Specifically Ivor, Petra and Lukas.

If Petra is a bit too strong for her, Ivor's missing would notice fast enough, her perfect first target would be Lukas, who leaves pretty far from everyone else.

Imagine the girl putting traps in his house, when he comes back in the evening. As soon as blonde steps inside, something snaps his legs, making fall down with horrible pain. While he gasps for air, trying to lift himself up, the last thing he sees is White Pumpkin with two bright yellow eyes, before he gets a bit with an axe, that's finishes him.

Well, that wasn't really a rivalry, more just dying Lukas.

I can't think of anything else in the moment.

I actually love Cassie a lot, especially her red hair and Winslow, even though the girl could've just explain the situation and ask for help, she decided to do the murder. Just what the doctor ordered.

Lukas.. well, I have mixed feelings. I like him as a character, I ship lots of ships with him, but I strongly avoid Jesskas or Aidkas content. It's not about characters, but about how people present them in this situations.

I'm not against the ships and even wrote some oneshots, when people asked, it just that.. I don't know, I have some allergy towards popular things. That applies to Jetra, Jesstra, Lukesse, Jesskas, Aidkas, Harpvor or Jesse, Lukas, Petra themselves.

When I'm writing something about them, I actually enjoy it, but content of other people keeps me away somewhy. Expect yours! The way you deliver both Petra and Lukas I love..

But I think I went off topic, yep. Sorry.

[musicoftheheart]

oh my gosh okay so I wanna ask about all ur wips honestly but that kind of defeats the purpose soooooooo

4,7,8,14

4 because it sounds really ominous, 7 because the title makes me think someone (probably james) freaks out every time someone else (probably regulus) speaks french and a third person (probably sirius) thinks hes having an allergic reaction, 8 because this sounds like a sequel to hold me tight (and never let me go)??? and I have been loving that fic so far and cant wait for you to finish it (but no pressure, take ur time of course), and 14 because thats funny as shit

also, I remember you saying a while ago you might write a snooker au? is that happening? (again no pressure, I just wondered if u forgot to list it since you mentioned having brain fog recently (which is a cool name for it btw and I will be using it in future))

hi!! thanks for asking! <33

so ive covered a couple of these in another ask, so ill only sum them up here (you still get rambled at though dw <3)

4. dont walk too close

so! as i said in another ask, this is a fic following sirius (and regulus, later) starting hogwarts as walburga’s obedient heir, only to end up in gryffindor and learning that life isnt quite the way he’d been taught. his revelations and his sorting end up causing tension at home in the yule holidays, and a series of events end up with regulus in gryffindor too. im sure we can all imagine how that one goes. i posted a snippet in the other ask here

7. french epi fic

HA okay i love your guess, but— well, actually, youre closer to the truth than you might’ve thought. sort of.

regulus has just escaped his parents’ clutches and moves across from france to the one place he hoped he might be welcome: sirius’ home in england. its set in yorkshire, because thats where i grew up before i had to move away, and i miss it :( regulus’ english is poor as it is, but meeting sirius’ ridiculously attractive housemate, james potter, muddles his brain enough where the few basic greetings he knew were gone

james has epilepsy (thats where the ‘epi’ in the title comes from), remus gets them all free donuts, and sirius refuses to flirt on behalf of either james or regulus with the other. its chaos, its fun, and im enjoying it so far despite only being a few thousand words in. here’s a snippet:

Regulus slowly set his eyes back on the house. “It’s so big.”

Seeming to finally catch up on Regulus’ surprise, Sirius explained, “Effie and Monty helped us get on our feet, but with what Alphard left…”

”Mon dieu,” he breathed. But this time, it wasn’t at the house. It was at the man stepping out of it.

Stood at the front door, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun that had emerged from behind the rain clouds, was the most beautiful man Regulus had ever laid his gaze upon. His dark brown hair was tussled in a mess of curls on his head, but almost like it was purposefully messy rather than just uncontrollable. Round golden glasses sat upon his bronze skin, framing his chocolatey eyes perfectly, and a wide grin pulled at his mouth and revealed a little dimple on his left cheek.

When Regulus was eventually able to tear his eyes from the man’s face, his breath caught again at the sight of the rest of him. He clearly worked out, if the muscles making his t-shit stretch were anything to go by, but he wasn’t tall — perhaps only a couple of inches larger than Regulus himself, and he reached only a measly 5’7. Something shining in the sun caught Regulus’ eye, and he saw a thin metal bracelet on one of the man’s wrists.

”Hey, James!” Sirius called, climbing out of the car and snapping Regulus out of his trance. He’d made it to the boot to pull Regulus’ suitcase out before Regulus had even managed to open the passenger door.

”Padfoot!” James called with just as much enthusiasm — that was, far too much considering they lived together and had presumably seen each other just a few hours ago before Sirius had left to pick Regulus up. “And mini Pads!” he added, spotting Regulus finally getting out of the car.

Regulus shot him a swift glare for that nickname. He may be cute, but looks could only get him so far.

8. the warmth of your arms rivals the sun (its burning out)

this is another ive covered in another ask but i love it so im still gonna talk about it. youre exactly right, by the way — it is a hmt sequel! i guess the naming conventions were similar enough ahaha. its very james-centric with background storylines, and focuses on much heavier themes than those in hmt. i wont go into what they are, but anyone who was around during chapter… four? five? i dont remember, but it was early on. i added some tags, then took them away once i decided id split it into two parts. if anyone remembers those tags, that’s what twoya will cover :))

14. sirius is actually helpful for once wtf

this is planned to be a shorter fic, but still multi chapter. its pretty much just sirius shipping jegulus and doing everything he can to get his two favourite people together :) not written yet, but ive got a fair bit planned so far

bonus: snooker au

okay so, i would love to say i’ve worked on this some more since then but… i haven’t :( i really want to, but i want to do it well, which i know will take a lot of time. but, the details i have so far:

its the snooker world championships. regulus black’s first, but james potter’s third. sirius black — former world champion — is the estranged brother of the newbie regulus black, and the mentor and best friend of james potter, who was second place two years ago, but couldnt compete last year due to an unrelated injury, though healed up now. james, of course, is head over heels for regulus. regulus, of course, pretends hes not pining madly for the boy who stole his brother. sirius, of course, pretends hes not offended or hurt that regulus wont even try to fix their relationship. he also just happens to be stealing glances at remus lupin, who came fourth last year and seemed rather close to regulus. theyre all hopeless, and determined to win.

thanks for your ask! <33

[bidean-byedean]

fanfic friday; sad baby buck. 2.1k.

Listened to Aisle 6 by Sadie Jean and got feels about Buck being alone for the first time

When I was six, I dreamed of this In a rosier light, now it's fluorescent white Stuck in between myself and me What I'm feeling right now, I think it's lettin' her down Won't somebody tell me it's time to come back home 'Cause it's too late at night to be alone? Oh Why is nobody angry or asking, "Where'd she go?" No one's waiting for me by the phone Won't somebody tell me to come home?

Teen. pre-canon ramblings.

Five weeks. That's how long it takes for Evan to stumble, not counting that first night.

Once he'd stopped driving for long enough to actually take a breath, he panicked. Hungry. Tired. Scared. He had never really imagined doing this without someone by his side. In his head, the open road was filled with laughter, fighting over the radio, and the silence of someone sleeping beside you.

In the short time that Maddie's yes meant something, he'd already planned it out, so close he could taste it.

But Maddie wasn't there. She wouldn't even see him. What kind of goodbye was that? What kind of sister did that? The anger fuelled the first miles, racing down highways, unsteady behind the wheel of the Jeep that he'd never been allowed to drive. Now it was all he had.

That and a duffle bag that looked over-stuffed when he left but now he can't think of a single useful thing in it. After a full cycle of his clothes, Evan missed a hundred things he'd been forced to leave behind. And he still doesn't understand how to not run out of underwear alarmingly fast. And yes, he's considered giving it up entirely.

"Man, I'm telling you! Underwear is part of governmental overreach."

"I don't think Obama gives a shit if you wear briefs," Evan laughs, but Bryan looks livid.

"Of course, you don't get it, rich kid from the white suburbs. Mommy probably bought all your undies."

Evan wants to argue but he doesn't know how without stepping in some weird trap. So he bites his tongue and goes back to scrolling on his phone. Without Bryan's ranting, the TV comes into focus. Some gameshow is on, the one his parents always watch.

If he folds in on himself, Evan can almost imagine he's back home. The soft sounds of canned laughter and cha-ching! when someone wins float by as if coming from downstairs, his parents contentedly not paying attention to him. The blessing and curse that plagued his existence in that house.

"I know a guy who got the clap from not wearing underwear to the gym."

Both of their heads snap toward the new voice. It belongs to a girl Evan's noticed around; she has big sun-kissed curls and her face is covered in freckles. Other than the fact she's hot, Evan wonders what an Australian could possibly find interesting about North Carolina. Coming from a landlocked state, Evan thinks the concept of a coastline is pretty cool, but he imagines that the muddy, estuary-riddled beaches here don't live up to her home.

"That's disgusting," Bryan says as if this whole conversation isn't gross. "Commercial gyms are exploitative anyway."

She shrugs. "You know what they say, if you're gonna get fucked, wear protection. Same thing here."

Evan snorts and she winks at him, which Bryan really doesn't like. Something about alpha males and privileged fuckboys, and who cares because she's got a smile that makes him forget about the hollow feeling in his chest.

About four pints, half a hip flask, three sticky cocktails, and an indeterminate number of shots later, Evan finds himself stuffed into her bunk bed. Thankfully, it's the bottom, so he doesn't have to risk smashing his head open for a lay. She's under him making tiny noises like a kitten mewling, which is more distracting than he anticipated.

He has no idea if there is someone above them but he does his best not to rock the bed too much, fucking into her tightly, her arms around his shoulders. Every time he closes his eyes the world spins and his stomach churns, so he stares at the light on someone's charger, the little green light his anchor as he tries to finish. But every time he thinks he's getting there, his attention slips and he has to start again.

"Hey, can we just sleep?" She asks with a hand on his sweaty chest.

"Oh, yeah, sure."

Surprisingly, she pulls him into her back, his arm draped over her waist. It's nice. He listens to the snoring, the tapping of fingers on phones, the laughter coming up from the street, and holds onto her tighter. Against her warm body, he falls asleep faster than he has in weeks.

The next night, he picks up a bar shift, desperate for cash to put more distance between him and Pennsylvania. In five weeks, he hasn't got nearly as far as he wants.

His venture up into Maine ate up a lot of his momentum before he realised he was just backing himself into a corner, literally, and then he came back down the coast. Enjoying the scenic drive but not stopping for much, even New York. Margaret and Phillip Buckley enjoyed the city, they took Maddie all the time when she was still at home, but Evan only got a few trips before they decided he wasn't worth the effort. So when the sign for NYC comes up, he speeds past it with his jaw tight.

Leaning across his bar is a familiar head of curls and he grins up at her.

"What brings a nice girl like you to a place like this?"

She scrunches her nose and laughs at him. "Cheese on cheese, mate. Vodka soda, please."

Maybe he gives her a few drinks on the house, each with a wink and his best pretty-boy smile, which is fun as long as his manager doesn't clock on. But as the night wears on, the gaps between her drinks become longer and longer, until it's been hours since he caught sight of her. The disappointment is weird. They're strangers, just a drunken fumble between them, but he likes her freckles and her big vowels and the fact she's seen so much of the world he hasn't.

When he clocks out, the manager shoves an envelope of cash in his hand, he goes to the hostel, packs up his shit, and drives south until he stops crying.

Somewhere around sunrise, he pulls into a gas station. He eats an energy bar he can't taste and uses a bathroom that will haunt his nightmares. And calls Maddie. It's not the first or fiftieth time, he's stopped counting. But he keeps calling. It used to ring out.

"The number you have dialled is no longer in service. Please try another."

There is no other number. This is the one in his phone under Mads. It even has a picture of her, an unflattering picture that he screenshotted from the background of some other shot, but it's still her. He's got the scar on his forearm from where she tried to grab his phone from him, screaming at him to delete it.

Okay, they fought a lot. He annoyed her, mostly on purpose and sometimes just by virtue of being her little brother, but they loved each other. There's a reason he begged her to come with him. If she turned up today, he'd forgive her in a second, ready for the real adventure to begin. But all he gets is automated messages and silence.

There's a lot of silence in Evan's life now. Not real silence, of course, he sleeps in dorms that resemble barracks and works in bars and clubs loud enough to leave his head ringing and the Jeep is loud, especially on the wide, endless freeways. But sometimes he finds himself going days without talking to anyone apart from niceties and it leaves him feeling something sickly.

A few of his friends followed up on him when he left, seeming genuinely interested in his great escape. But they have lives, college and actual jobs that take up their time, so the conversations become more and more sporadic.

Honestly, he can't remember the last time someone asked him how he was or where he was.

Did anyone know? Did anyone give a shit?

For a while, he posted on Instagram pretty regularly, updating everyone on his life. But then his aunt commented on something and he got spooked - it wasn't really running away if your parents could spy on your every move - so he stopped. That made things lonelier. He scrolls through everyone else's lives and feels sick when he sees everyone living. His friends grab drinks together at a bar he doesn't know, the girl he liked from his humanities class has a new boyfriend, someone from his high school is in Italy…

He should be in Italy, but he's not. He's in the middle of nowhere on the border of Georgia and Florida, nothing but pine trees and potholes. And no one fucking cares.

No one cares when he has beer for dinner. No one cares when he doesn't come home until the morning. No one cares when he doesn't show up to a shift or skips out on the rest of his dorm booking. No one cares when he keeps driving deep into the night. No one cares what he does or where he is or anything.

And this is how Evan Buckley ends up having a panic attack sitting on the ground at 6:23am.

Because truthfully, he knows that it’s not that no one cares, it's that certain people don't. It's that deep down, he knows the reason Maddie isn't picking up his calls is the same she never let him visit her in Boston and why she gave him the Jeep but couldn't give him her. The guilt is almost too much so it’s easier to be angry at her. It's that the only people who should be blowing up his phone aren't.

Growing up, Evan had limits. Sometimes it felt like he was livestock, surrounded by an electric fence but not quite understanding where the lines were or what the punishment would be. His parents were distant until they weren't. They didn't want him around but he still had a curfew, still couldn't just disappear with his friends for hours on end, eventually the Buckleys would recall him like a farm dog to be locked up for the night.

He gnawed at the bars for years until he figured out the lock. A grazed knee. A chipped tooth. A broken arm. A broken leg. A broken arm and leg. Concussion. Letting the backdoor slam when he snuck in at 2am. Joining the football team; bruised ribs, black eyes, torn ligaments. If he slammed his head against the bars hard enough, someone would let him lie on their lap until he stopped bleeding.

There was no softness for his pain now.

All the bars he should never have been in, too late, too sketchy even for locals, all the alleys he took as shortcuts, all the sofas he crashed on too drunk to keep his eyes open. There were so many pretty words and ready mouths and greedy hands, and Evan fell into all of them. Disregarding the fact that any hurts he collected now were not going to be met with a loving hand, there was no one waiting to pick him up again.

He heaves for breath against the hot metal of the Jeep, his heart too big for his chest or his throat too small for air, or something. Evan has had a panic attack before, many. The world falling away from under his feet, everything too close and too far away, his spiralling thoughts pulling him under like a rip tide. Every wave breaks over his head before he can take a breath, his mouth full of water and salt and regret.

Would his parents ever call?

Would they ever care?

Did he make a mistake?

Is he the mistake?

Can he ever make up for being him?

How far does he need to go before he feels something new?

Is it all a delusion?

Should he turn back?

Would he be allowed?

It's so fucking stupid. All he's ever wanted is to be free, to put as much distance between him and that house, and now he's here, he hates it.

There he said it.

He hates the wandering. The aimlessness. The constantly being new and on the back foot. Evan likes people, he's good with people but for the past few weeks, it feels like everyone is in on a joke that he just doesn't get. Maybe it's him. Maybe everyone knows that deep down he wants his mom to call and ask him if he's coming home.

Suddenly, he thinks of Maddie. The Maddie who always told him there was a world out there waiting for him. The Maddie who said yes to this trip The Maddie who no longer has a way to leave, even if she wanted to. The Maddie his parents didn’t show up for. The Maddie they let drift away from them until she was lost in the fog of Doug. The Maddie who still did her best to show up for him.

Maybe she can't be here, maybe she can't tell him she's worried, but maybe she's still waiting for him to tell her he's okay somehow. He made it out. For the both of them.

Eventually, he can breathe again.

Eventually, he can drive again.

"Welcome to Jacksonville! Where are you joining us from?"

"Hershey."

"Like the chocolate?"

Evan looks at the desk guy blankly and then back at the stack of postcards on the rack. They're kinda silly, very kitschy; beaches, high rises, oranges, all the stereotypes. Maddie would love them.

"Dime a card. We're trying to get rid of them."

"Can I borrow a pen?"

[mangonatural]

Rules: Make a 24 hour poll with the names of your WIPs, let it run, then work for 10 minutes for every vote the winner receives.

Thank you for the tag, @angelcasendgame!!!!! I am not sure I will be able to work on anything very soon just because life came after me again, and turns out I'm gonna be moving over the next month or so, but I really do hope I can find time!!

None of these have names yet lol. I put the SPN ones first, but technically I've been trying to break my writer's block by returning to The Great Gatsby (It's all Nick/Gatsby btw, just realized that might not be immediately evident) with limited success. It's always come easier for me. But all of this is stuff I do actively want to work on.

Ohh I don't know who to tag. I'm sure everyone in this circle has been tagged already, and most of the people I talk to regularly enough to know about their projects have more or less left Tumblr... I do absolutely want to pass this your way though, @antique-ro-man!! (It's Wes, btw!) I also wanna tag @heyfagbutt! And then anyone else who sees this and wants to participate, I also encourage it!! This is such a cool idea :D !!

Long, rambling explanations down here ⬇⬇

I think the name is pretty explanatory? The gist of it is they go after the same guy and become pseudo-enemies but they keep bumping into each other like this and decide to work together after a while 👍 this is a really bad hook LMAO. Anyway, I'm trying to build on the idea that they work REALLY well together when they do it intentionally but fail comically when they don't.

Pretty much what it says on the tin as well. No Supernatural AU. Dean goes to a community college to get a certification to help with his work elsewhere, but Cas, a figure drawing model, catches him drawing (which Dean's been doing on and off as a hobby) and tries to get him to sign up for the arts program.

I technically only have a summary of this, and I'm not entirely sure if I will write it all out, but I do want to at least put more time into the development before I dedicate to giving up on it bc of scope lol. I just have SUCH a soft spot for fake relationship AUs. Also, I just found out that while I have FINALLY aged into independent FAFSA eligibility, I am once again tax bracketed out. Anyway, financial abuse is real and I want to project my suffering onto Dean. Also immigrant Cas, but I haven't decided where I want him to be from yet. I think this has a lot of potential for some pretty hefty character redesigns too so it's also compelling to me from that angle. I guess I could also write it for TGG, but I did initially think of it for Destiel, so.

I don't know how to explain this one very well except that I had unhelpfully written "poolboy au" in my notes and then proceeded to forget what the hell I meant. This fic was an attempt to resurrect that but ended up being a funky modern West Coast re-imagining where Gatsby can't even "make it" as much as he wants to, and Nick can't find a place to live except for a less-than-legally rented pool house. It's not meant to be a full rewrite or anything though.

Uhhh yeah, I'm keeping the details private for this one ahaha but that's just because it wasn't supposed to be a big deal and I told a friend she would see what it was when it was done...like oh god probably a month ago at this point... My original scope for this was quite small, but research for it, indecision, and a nasty case of writer's block that I've had for nearly a year now have kept development a bit slow. Hopefully, I'll finish it before the year comes to a close.

I also don't know how to explain this one well other than "after being rejected by Daisy (Canon Divergent), Gatsby attempts to buy his way into a bewildered Nick's heart. Though the fic is from Nick's POV, Gatsby's just had his worldview shattered and is in a bit of denial, but instead of pursuing Daisy harder, he channels all of that energy into Nick (though he's not really sure why he's doing it at first). I wasn't sure what to put up at the top because I absolutely don't want my code name for this public at least until it's done LMAO.

[di-daynamic]

@fluffbruary Day 23

Peter Parker was Morgan Stark’s absolute favourite person.

Everyone knew that. Peter himself couldn’t deny it, no mater how much it flustered him.

Rhodey laughed and pouted at being replaced as the fun uncle. Happy rolled his eyes. May smiled at him and told him Mo had good taste. Ned went to pieces in excitement. Mrs. Potts always got this sad smile on her face which meant she was remembering Mr. Stark, so Peter had never dared to go past just complaining about it.

There wasn’t much to complain about. Morgan was amazing. She was only five, but she held herself with the grace of a much older lady, talked like a professor, and could bring about the mischief and chaos of someone his age.

Peter adored her. He remembered being younger and begging his parents and later Ben and May for a younger sibling. Mo was everything he’d imagined, and so much more.

He’d just. . . He’d never thought he’d know Mr. Stark’s child, well, without the man being there himself to be the annoying fairy godmother figure he was.

Mrs. Potts had told him that she didn’t intend on superheroes being too big a part of her daughter’s life, and Peter had offered to go. She’d shaken her head and said that Peter was more than Spider-Man, that Mr. Stark had loved Peter Parker as much as, if not more than Spider-Man, and she wanted those who knew him best – him, Rhodey and Happy – as much around Mo as possible.

Peter had ducked his head and blushed, and he’d sworn he would be the best big brother possible.

That meant being indulgent with sweets and other treats, but only with her mom’s permission and within limits. It meant answering every question she had and occupying her huge brain so she didn’t feel bored at school. It meant telling her all about her dad. It meant walking on the ceiling, her precious cargo in his hands. It meant Peter would burn the world down for her.

He was spending the weekend at the lake house again, and Mrs. Potts had told him it was okay to take Morgan to the garage workshop until dinner when he’d asked.

Everything in there fascinated Morgan to no end, and Peter wasn’t sure if it was the objects themselves, or the fact that her dad had once used them.

“Peter, Petey!” Morgan called, holding something up. Peter turned from the schematic diagram curiously. “What’s this? It doesn’t look like anything useful. Is it junk? Can I use it for my scrap metal project?”

“Hmm,” Peter hummed playfully as he made his way to her. “Lesson one of the mysterious lab, Miss Morgan Hope Stark.”

Morgan giggled. “What is it?”

Peter swung her into his arms. “Nothing is as it seems!”

He pressed the sides of it, revealing it to be a capsule. At his touch, it opened to show the camera inside. “Your dad based it on the Snitch, from Harry Potter,” he explained. “It reacts only to … my touch now,” he finished sadly.

Morgan gasped in awe. “It’s cool,” she said. “Definitely not scrap. Is there anything on the camera?”

Peter flicked through the photos on storage. “Hmm. . . Let’s see. We didn’t exactly use it much before. . .” He trailed off, but the word Thanos echoed in their thoughts. “Oh, would you look at that.”

The camera projected a hologram on the wall – of Peter, in his ballet performance for Christmas that Mr. Stark had come to see. The Peter onscreen performed a near perfect arabesque – he was still proud of that one – before moving to a pirouette and chasse.

Morgan clapped her hands together delightedly. “Peter! I didn’t know you danced!”

“Well, it’s only casual,” Peter said quickly. “I’m not a serious dancer – honestly, I wasn’t too good before the spider bite. I was asthmatic and tripped over everything—”

Morgan ignored his rambling, the way she did everything she considered beneath her notice. “But you can dance! You can teach me ballet!”

“I didn’t even know you were interested,” Peter said in astonishment.

“I wasn’t,” Morgan said impatiently, the underlying Keep up, big brother very clear. “But if you do ballet, it can’t be all that bad. And mom wants me to ‘increase my repertoire and get out of my comfort zone’.” She sounded extremely put out at that. “This is perfect! And then you and I can spend more time together! FRI, play ballet music!”

“Woah, Momo,” Peter grabbed her and set her on the table. She folded her arms sulkily. “Not so fast. What have we said about whims?”

“That I need to think through them before acting on them,” Morgan muttered petulantly. “I don’t see why that’s necessary.”

God, she sounded like her dad. Peter felt a wave of crushing grief pass through him, and he steadied himself, taking a breath.

“Petey?” She sounded uncertain, suddenly.

“When you’re all grown up like me,” Peter said in a tone of haughty superiority. “You’ll see exactly why it’s necessary. Till then, Madam, you have to follow it.”

“You talk like you’re as old as Uncle Thor,” Morgan rolled her eyes, but acquiesced. “Okay. Why can’t we do ballet now?”

Peter ruffled her hair gently. “That’s my girl. And first, we need to talk to your mom to see if she really will be as eager as you say. Then we need to get you the stuff you need – pointe shoes, for one. And we certainly won’t be dancing here.”

Morgan nodded. “There is a lot of breakable stuff in here,” she allowed. “And we don’t want to destroy any of Dad’s things.”

“Nah,” Peter agreed quietly. “We don’t.”

“Can we go talk to Mom now? It’s time for dinner anyway,” she pointed at the clock.

“Sure,” Peter said, beginning to pack up. “First pick up your crayons, and put all the things you took out back in the box.”

“Okay,” she said, and they worked hurriedly, Morgan as organized and methodical as her mother. “Done, Petey?”

“Yep,” he held his hand out to her, and swallowed the lump in his throat as he felt her smaller one curl into it. Mr. Stark isn’t here. I am. She’s my little sister. Mine to protect.

Mrs. Potts greeted them, looking haggard, but smiling. “Hi, sweethearts. Do you mind if we just have a snack for dinner tonight? There’s enough for you, Peter, and tomorrow’s breakfast will be big, I promise, but I needed to handle a call with the board. I can make something now if you need though.”

Peter shrugged, concerned. Mrs. Potts reminded him of May in the first few months after Ben. She was taking on far too much, and he didn’t know how to help.

May says it’s enough to just be there, he reminded himself.

“I’m fine with it, Mom,” Morgan said.

“I am too,” Peter said. “Mrs. Potts, if it’s just a snack, why don’t we take a blanket out beside the lake and have a picnic?”

“Ooh, sounds fun!” Morgan said. “Please, mom? Please?”

Mrs. Potts looked hesitant, but smiled then. “Sure, why not. Give me a moment. Peter, can you pack the food? Morgan, get one of the picnic blankets out, please.”

They went to do as she said, Peter considering what he could do to help her. He hadn’t known Mrs. Potts too well before the Blip, but Mr. Stark had loved her, and that had been enough for him. “You can leave the phone here,” he insisted.

She pursed her lips. “Peter—”

“Seriously, Mrs. Potts,” he continued. “They can survive for your half-an-hour dinner break. Mo!” He called to his sister, who was running forward. “Wait up!”

Mrs. Potts looked at him with a half-rueful half-tender expression. “You may be right,” she gave in. “At any rate, Morgan looks ready to combust with impatience.”

Morgan had picked a Spider-Man blanket, which she looked very proud of as she spread it on the grass. “It’s you, Petey!” She said happily. “How do you like it?”

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat, remembering buying his own merchandise for the first time and swinging to Stark Tower to show it to Mr. Stark. “It’s amazing, Mo.” He said quietly. Mrs. Potts gave him a look of quiet empathy, and they commiserated in their grief.

“Mom, you remember when you said I needed to develop new skills?” Morgan asked, as she finished her second sandwich.

Mrs. Potts was having a cookie. “Yes, dear,” she said. “Have you changed your mind about learning French from FRIDAY?”

“No,” Morgan denied, and Peter made a note to get the whole story from her later. “But Peter knows how to dance, and he said he would teach me!”

“Ballet,” Peter added hastily, in case Mrs. Potts thought of the ‘dances’ most teenagers did. “I’ve been learning since I was a kid, for almost eight years now. I’m not qualified to teach, but I could show the basics for about a year, until you’re ready to join a proper class, or you get bored of it.”

Morgan scowled. “I won’t get bored of it!”

“If you say so,” Mrs. Potts looked at them contemplatively. “Yes, I remember Tony telling me about your Christmas performance. The Nutcracker, wasn’t it?”

Peter blinked, still startled at every evidence that Mr. Stark had really, truly cared about him. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, it was.”

Morgan furrowed her eyebrows, clearly committing that to memory, as she did everything about her father.

“What would you need?” She asked.

“Well, the second sitting room is large enough to pass for a studio,” Peter began. “And FRI’s there to play music. We’ll need some equipment to stretch, and ballet shoes for Morgan – and a tutu and leggings – but that’s about it.”

Mrs. Potts nodded, graciously as though she were a queen, as she did everything, Peter thought. “Very well. We can do that. You’ll take the lessons whenever you come up?”

“I think,” Peter responded. “Once school starts up it’ll be harder, so maybe some video calls then, but, it might be too much.”

“We’ll see,” Mrs. Potts agreed. Then: “I’m proud of you for taking initiative, Morgan,” she added. Morgan beamed. “Even if it was only to spend time with Peter.”

“I want to learn ballet too,” Morgan protested. “It’s not just that!”

“Really?” Her mom teased. “Eat more, Peter. Your metabolism will barely be satisfied with that much.”

Peter sighed, taking another snack. “Yes, Mrs. Potts.”

“Yes, I am!” Morgan’s voice rose in a tantrum. “I’m going to be the best ballet dancer in the whole, wide world!”

“Wow,” Peter said in overexaggerated awe. “I’m sure you will. You can do anything you put your mind to. I can’t wait to see it.”

The rest though, was honest. Morgan Stark was already amazing, and even though he hated that her father wouldn’t be there, Peter couldn’t wait to see her grow up to be a star and live her life.

(In the years to come Morgan Stark would gain a degree in Mathematics and Astrophysics, and take SI into a new era. And every time she danced, crowds would rise to give her a standing ovation. Morgan would give the credit to her childhood teacher, whose name and face, unfortunately, neither she nor her mother could remember. Somehow, for some reason, she associated them with Spider-Man.)

[autisticempathydaemon]

the redacted matches are so cool, thank you for doing them!!

- i dont have a particular lyric for it but ive been really liking cherry wine by grentperez lately

- i dont really know my enneagram type, i think its a 5? not sure though only because i havent looked at it recently enough to know if its still accurate

- my go to way to fall asleep is to listen to redacted videos lol

- when i picked a new name for myself, i chose it because i liked the sound of it (and im pretty sure i subconsciously got it from a candle on my desk)

- my favorite redacted audio would probably be aarons morning audio where smartass is trying to keep him in bed, its very cute and he just sounds so happy

- i dont get the hype for caelum, i can appreciate that other people like him but he’s just never been it for me

- my go to thing to ramble about would absolutely be astrology

- my go to gas station combo would be one of those bottled starbucks drinks and chocolate covered pretzels

- a playlist ive been listening to a lot lately is a spotify generated one called “chill mix”

- i have a few guilty pleasure fantasy romance book series, theyre not very good but i always have a fun time reading them lol

Okay, but the fantasy romance thing is so funny- not funny because those books aren’t fun, we’re among friends here but because Vincent would lovingly, adoringly give you so much shit.

Literally, can you imagine how a charming little dickhead he’d be? He’s constantly insisting that shifters don’t actually have knots, that demons don’t orchestrate deals with the devil and certainly don’t seal them with a kiss. You’d come home, and he’s on the couch, not working, nose in one of your books, telling you that the position being he’s reading isn’t possible, supernatural creature or otherwise, but goddamn he’d be willing to try wink wink nudge nudge.

Also, after that last Vincent audio, the one with the fancy date, he could totally strike me as a chocolate-covered pretzel man. Vincent’s a prince, but he’s also just a dude, and I think he’d be more than happy sitting on that gas station curb, trying to throw snacks into your open mouth.

Song:

I need a man who'll take a chance/ On a love that burns hot enough to last/ So when the night falls/ My lonely heart calls/ Oh, I wanna dance with somebody

As the theoretical youngest of our vampires, Vincent is so literally a boy misplaced in time. I really, inexplicably love this song for him for that reason. Like, a cheesy eighties love ballad that he’d adore covered by a mid 00’s emo band? For some reason, I think he’d love that.

Runner-ups:

Vega, I actually like for you the same reason as Vincent. He would also be incredibly amused by your romance novels but in a much meaner yet still sexy way. Anton, I just think he loves an astrology babe; he adores listening to you talk about signs and constellations and houses even if he doesn’t believe any of it.

Note: I hope you enjoy it, anon 🧡 I actually finally listened to his spicy date audio today before I looked at your entry, so I think it was fate

Want a match-up of your own? Read this post, and tell me about yourself! 💌

[kafkaoftherubble]

HI LYN have I ever told you that you're such a lovely and awesome amazing friend?? You are!! I love how we can talk about cultural differences and religion together it's so much fun and you have such interesting theories about to your eternity too. I love you very very much

(I'm fine, just sick which means my brain is reduced to very basic functions like loving my friends and crying over blorbos from my games)

W-W-What did I do?!

I don't know how to react to things like these!

Oh... what do you do when someone says stuff like this... Oh yea!

THANK YOU! AND I CAN SAY THE SAME FOR YOU!!

I genuinely don't know how to react to compliments and stuff, and I'm glad this is all text because I'd be blabbering and shifty eyes and trying to come up with something cool to say if you said this on my face, but... I'm really glad you enjoy my companionship!!!

I also love talking about cultural differences and the nuances between different societies and everything! I'm a translator by trade for a reason! Bridging cultures and groups is one of our pleasures!

I didn't know you were actually that ardent about religion/spirituality, so I'm glad I discovered that about you! It's kinda funny because, ya know, I'm an atheist and so don't actually hold religion as a whole to as high regard as a practicing adherent usually does (by baseline), but I also genuinely think that religion is a culture of its own and it's yet another expression of human creativity and ideas and psychology and history. So my "I'm-interested-in-humans!" ass can't help but enjoy asking people about it! And philosophizing along with them, or to ourselves!

I'll definitely keep talking about these sorts of stuff with ya in the future. And more too! Maybe I'll uncover more things you actually have a lot of thoughts and perspectives about!

As for my To Your Eternity essays: I'm just glad people read these goddamn walls of texts at all, hahaha! Like bruh, I used to ramble in the YouTube comment section (TYE is available legally in my region on a Hong Kong-based anime streaming channel), man. You can imagine the sheer length when adjusted to YouTube comment size! But then again, I did the same shit with Three Houses discourse, and sometimes Jujutsu Kaisen, and once upon a time, even politics... Anyway, I'm just happy anyone reads it! All the way, halfway... Just knowing I have a reader or two makes me happy, so thank you!

(Honestly, what else is Tumblr for other than "loving my friends" and "crying about my blorbos"? Oh yea. Rambling. At length. With citations!)

[thornstocutyouwith]

Xian let out a breath, listening to her though. She was really…kind of annoying, to be honest. He was frustrated. What was happening to him was something that just happened recently. It didn't happen years ago. His situation making him easily agitated had also been going on still. He had problems in his life, and he had to find someone who could handle that baggage, and love him still. Xian tilt his head slightly "Shit. That sounds like a lot of baggage. A twin brother?" His brothers often liked to pick on him "Probably good you didn't know him. Siblings can be really shit." But he could relate to the nanny part of her rambling.

"Yeah. I know. Would you like me to sit here and unload everything going on in my life onto you?" No. She wouldn't, she already made that clear by getting on his case just for looking for someone, and being up front about having kids. How could he even begin to imagine she would treat the rest of his troubles? Xian frowned a bit, thinking about how horrible he felt with this woman he had only just met, knowing more about him at this moment "You do seem like you like to talk a lot." Xian commented, his eyes becoming dull for a moment as he looks away from Darla briefly.

But mostly she was jumping to conclusions, which was even more apparent to him. Looking back toward her then, Xian swallows "Yes. I did start this conversation. On the basis that I imagined that some people at least. Would want to know when they are involving themselves with someone who has kids. Most people don't want a family. Which, that's cool. But I have one…whether they like it, or not. So I want to have someone who is ready to take on the responsibility right from the beginning. Working that into the situation, it seems cheaper, right? "Oh Hey, love that we've been going out these last couple of weeks. Anyway. I have kids, you cool with that?". You understand what I mean?"

"Not exactly a fairy tale ending. I just don't want someone coming into our lives, based on a misdirection. It's like if I were to invite you into my house, promise you a meal, maybe some tea or wine. Then I don't do that. Yet here you are, for the next several hours, waiting on it. Only to leave for nothing…" He rolled his eyes then "Leading someone on like that, is a sign you are embarrassed or ashamed of your kids. I'm not. And whatever woman I would love, is going to know that. They will be first. Always. Not second." If she didn't like that he was doing this for his kids, more than him, but not just to have a free maid, either. Then he couldn't explain it any more clearly. He wanted someone who would love him, and be a mother to his kids. Of course he would love that person.

As she's questioning him about his offering to take her on a date, he nodded his head "Yess. That's what I said. I figure, you standing here doesn't really paint a good picture. After all, you came walking into my proposal." Which was honestly more so a joke proposal because he was angry, not that any of what happened didn't happen. But he would have to be mad to be going around just saying such things so out and in public. But saying so as a joke, it was relieving. He wasn't expecting an answer. As Darla is talking he gave a slight grin "Alright.--A man should always think about his family-before anything else." Xian said. He knew this, because his entire life, he had no man who did. His father was money hungry, and treated his children like extensions toward gaining more wealth.

"Well, then the road can be long. Even if I don't find the one. I want to find someone who can get close. I'm not asking for any of them to fly into the sun or anything. No Icarus'. ''." Xian glanced down to the ground listening as they spoke again "I wouldn't say I'm all that great. But I can try to be. When they are older, I don't want to be someone they hated." Even if they might hate him sometimes, it mattered most on how the child was as an adult. If his children looked back and couldn't understand one day, why he had to discipline them for their bad behavior, then something went horribly wrong.

Xian didn't think he would be as bad as his own father, not in the slightest, however. But he could still be a bad father, without being like that man. He could still fail to raise a good person, in this world. Without a partner in that, he feels like it would be more likely to happen "So, when are you free? What kind of places do you like to eat at?"

“It is if you spent your entire life confined to a mansion your parents only achieved through manipulation of your powers, using you as a tool and a threat to anyone unfortunate enough to fall into their lives, home schooled and raised more by a nanny who only was able to tell you when your parents both died that you actually have a twin brother in — ” She had managed to stop herself before she rambled on too much to make this guy think she belonged in a mental institution rather than on the streets talking to him. “Let’s just say sometimes there are circumstances that make it not that easy.”

Darla sighed heavily as Xian continued on, shaking her head. “No, of course not. You, however, started this conversation telling me you were looking for a girlfriend and laying all those cards out on the table right from the start. So I picked up the hand, and I played my own. And aren’t you the lucky one, it seems I have a big enough mouth to do enough of the talking for both of us.” Surely, he would understand that at least, wouldn’t he?

A classy woman. A great model for his children. He wanted the whole package. “You want your fairytale ending.” Sure, it could happen. It was possible, but — “Maybe that woman is out there for you, but are you willing to put in the kind of time and effort it would take to find her? You have already been down that road, and your trust was broken, like a teacup, and you may spend your entire life trying to find someone that will put the pieces back together again, but those cracks are always going to show. That is a lot to put on another person, and a lot to not only put on yourself but your children as well.”

She had expected another retaliation, a clever remark, what she did not expect was him to call her condescending, accuse her of having her head up her own ass, invite her to learn more about him and him about her and ask her….. on a date?

“Did you just…. ask me on a date? —” Well, yeah, he had, she just was completely thrown by it. It was not the direction she had seen this brief yet heated conversation between them going when she had initially turned around and started to walk away. She wasn’t walking away this time. “You know, actually — the more that I think about it, I really would like to get to know you. All nitpicking and bickering aside, you intrigue me. I admire your goals, and your compassion for your children, the fact you are thinking about them in your quest to find the perfect person not only for you, but for them as well. You have a long road ahead of you, but it’s a start.”

And in that moment, Darla had smiled at him. “They have a great father, and that is half the battle.”

[amimimi]

sk8 boys would reacting to you pulling them in by their belt

synopsis: you pulling the sk8 babes in by their belts for a kiss

pairings: joe x reader, cherry x reader, reki x reader, langa x reader

warnings: kissing, suggestive themes, swearing

notes: not me just seeing this tiktok trend ...but thoughts are being thunk...❤️ also, i apologize in advance for any grammatical/spelling errors

word count: 1,930

JOE

this flirty ass b*tch 😒

he thinks he’s so smooth...and he is!

i see y’all bar hopping in the early talking stages of your relationship

so you’re seated the bar and you’re kinda annoyed because maybe there are a couple girls who come up to him and offer to buy him a drink? (of course they would, have you seen how he’s built?)

BUT THAT’S NOT EVEN THE BAD PART

this mf get’s up from his stool and starts FLIRTING BACK?? AND YOU’RE JUST SITTING THERE LIKE —🧍‍♀️

but then he turns back to you and see’s the displeased look on your face.

cue joe nervously laughing and gently shooing the other girls away

but you’re already pissed bc like? the nerve of him? and in front of you??

you stare straight past him, leaning your elbow up on the bar table as he stands in front of you. babbling out apologies(?)

if you can even call them that?

“babe, i’m sorry! you know it’s force of habit! i didn’t even get to see what they looked like! and they were being nice! what was I supposed to do? tell them to get gone? i was just being polite to them, i’m a feminist after all 😏—”

b*tch...what?

you feel like you’re getting dumber just listening to him

so you kinda tilt your head to look at him and let your hands settle on the front of his belt

his voice kinda tilts? like it slightly gets a just a bit higher ?

before he can even make a smart ass remark, you firmly tug him towards you and kiss him

he hums in surprise before chuckling into the kiss and bringing his warm, calloused hands up to your face

he pulls away and quickly pecks at your lips before playfully outing

“oof, so mean”

“but you like that” you reply before kissing him again

meanwhile, the bartender is watching yall like “😐😑😐”

REKI

like with joe, i imagine you pulling this stunt off in the beginning of your relationship

you and reki are in the little workshop behind his house doing normal relationship stuff

you know, reki working on a skateboard repair while you lovingly admire his side profile...yea ❤️

he’s so absorbed in his work, his eyebrows are furrowed every so slightly, and he’ll randomly clench his jaw and WOWOWOW HE LOOK SO GOOD!

you feel so blessed just being able to take this sight in

you’re watching him intently with your elbows propped up on the table and your face resting between your hands

reki’s in the middle of tightening the screws when he notices you looking out of his peripheral vision

he glances over to you and sees you staring at him

have y’all seen that meme of meghan markle at her wedding looking up at harry?

YEA, YEA you’re literally looking up at reki like that

and boy does reki get FLUSTERED

he tries to act cool about catching you staring but baby is blushing way too hard

“w-what?”, reki mentally kicks himself for stammering as he returns his focus to the skateboard

“you look really hot right now”

reki damn near chokes and his face gets even more red (if that’s even possible)

he turns his back to you to reach for a wrench on the wall adjacent to him

but he's trynna hide how hard he's blushing uwu

you're laughing now and the melodic sound makes the tension in reki’s shoulders dissipate

yea...y’all are whipped for each other

reki is pouting with his back to you, still “looking” for his wrench

when all of sudden, he feels your hands settle on his waist, urging him to turn around

"rekiiiiii", you playfully whine. "i can't admire my boyfriend?"

he's turning around to tell you that he's busy, but then your fingers hook onto his belt

and before his brain can compute what's happening, you're sharply tugging his belt and your mouth is on his, hot and heavy

and reki moans

and it's so high-pitched and so earnest and so loud, you almost want to giggle

but then his knees buckle and he kinda collapses forward into you

so y'all both kinda shuffle back, but reki manages to catch himself by wrapping his arms around you for support

you're about to pull away to ask if he's okay, but then he brings one hand up to your face and parts his mouth

and when you gasp against his mouth, he feels slightly relieved knowing his dignity has been saved somehow

reki pulls away first, panting, and rests his forehead against your collarbone, trying to hide his face again

"you suck" he murmurs into your chest, slightly dizzy

you hum contentedly, combing his hair back before kissing the top of his head

CHERRY

first of all, this mf is an aries (just when i thought he couldn’t get sexier)

and aries men...🥴

basically, you have to do a lot to actually fluster this man

so let’s say he takes you with him for a two-day work trip on a nearby island

while he works with his clients during the day, you busy yourself by wandering around the hotel or walking along the beach

basically, the only time the two of you have together is in the evening

it’s your last night before y’all have to return to okinawa

kaoru tells you to get dressed and takes you out to this expensive ass restaurant and he’s sooooo f*cking romantic

the love in his eyes,,,, his soft ass smile as he watches you ramble in between taking sips from your wine glass

he’s looking at you as you’re personally responsible for the sun rising each day

i mean, you could’ve been talking about how you saw a crab on the beach that was missing a leg, and kaoru would just be like “tell me more bby 🥰😍”

when y’all make it back to the hotel, you’re both a little tipsy (kaoru is more so buzzed)

you’re holding onto kaoru’s arm as you both take the elevator up to your hotel room

kaoru feels you slightly sway against him and he leans over to kiss the top of your head

“you alright, darling?” he murmurs into your hair

he takes your hand in his and runs the pad of his thumb over the back of your hand

and he does all of this while his lips are pressed against the top of your head— SIR PLS ✋😩

it’s an chaste act and you know he’s genuinely concerned but after two glasses of wine, your brain is just—🥴

hornknee thoughts only 😩💯

sloppily, you wiggle out of kaoru’s embrace before centering yourself in front of him with your hands placed on his chest

at your action, kaoru’s eyebrow raises ever so slightly but he keeps silent, slightly amused

“you’re so f*cking fine” you murmur, slightly smoothing your hands over kaoru’s chest, staring him right in eye

“oh?”

“yea, and you don’t even try. What’s that like?”

by now, kaoru’s softly smiling. “what’s what like, my love?”

“what’s it like to be so hot without even trying?”

and before ol boy can even reply to that, your hands find his belt before firmly pulling him in for a kiss

kaoru hums at the sudden jolt but then sighs appreciatively through his nose and wastes no time parting his mouth for you

b*tch, you’re the one who’s moaning skxhsnwje

still kissing you, he smooths your hair back with one hand before grabbing a fistful of your hair

he firmly yanks your hair back and deepens the kiss, and you just— 🤸‍♀️

the moan that elicits from you, is OTHERWORLDY

you feel the elevator roll to a stop

kaoru pulls back with a grin on his face and so much love in his eyes that you’re tempted to go in for round two

but then the elevator door slides open and he grabs your hand, tugging you into the hallways

as he leads you to the hotel room, kaoru slightly turns his head back to smile at you, with the same amount of love in his eyes

LANGA

i feel like langa may get flustered as easily as reki might, but he’s manages to be a lot more cool about it

which kinda drives you up the wall? you just wanna see your boyfriend embarrassed for once

all he does is slightly blush with a straight face and glance away

so let’s say he’s walking you home after you, him, and reki were hanging about at a skatepark

the sun had already set and langa is walking beside you with his skateboard under one arm.

the walk is pretty silent, but it’s a comfortable silence. langa finds that he and you can soak up each other’s presence without having to say a word

you see him jolt out of your peripheral vision and you’re like ???

before you can glance over and ask if he’s okay, he quickly grabs your hand

you glance up at him, confused, and he simply replies “i forgot to hold your hand, sorry”

langa wtf??

fighting back the urge to laugh, you squeeze his hand and tell him it’s fine

both of you share a soft smile, before the easy silence continues for the rest of the walk

when y’all arrive on your porch steps, you turn to him and thank him for walking you home

langa assures you it’s no problem before saying goodnight

he’s turns around and takes a couple steps away, when you clear your throat

he glances back at you, quizzically

you’re standing on the porch step, with your hands behind your back.

there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes

“aren’t you forgetting something?” you playfully chide him

langa: 😐😑😐

you can literally see the gears turning in langa’s head

“...did you want me to walk you to your bedroom?”

you can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you, and langa feels his cheeks reddened slightly

“angel, no. I meant a goodnight kiss?”

“o-oh, right”

his brows furrowed slightly as he determinedly making his way over to you

he’s so—&:&72737

as he’s making his way over, an idea pops into your head and you kinda “>:3”

when langa is standing in front of you, your hands grip onto his belt and you yank him into a kiss

bby boy almost drops his skateboard

he quickly inhaled through his nose before giving a stuttered moan and you smile into the kiss

you’re standing on the first step to your porch so the added height is giving you more access

BITE HIS MFIN LIP! he will gasp so prettily into your mouth

entranced, he keeps leaning more and more forward, that is, until the back of your foot hits the step behind you

stumbling backwards, you fall back and pull langa along right with you

you fall right on your ass, yelping as you knock foreheads with langa as he falls into you

so now, you’re both left moaning, gripping your foreheads

“are you okay?” langa asks you, dropping his hand from his forehead revealing a red mark

you begin to laugh at the sight of it and langa just stares at you, confused but slightly defensive

“w-what?!”

“your forehead is red” you giggle

“well yea, you slammed your forehead into mine”

“you slammed your forehead into mine” you give him a quick peck on his lip before smoothing his hair hair back

“that looks like it’s gonna bruise,” you murmur and press a kiss to his forehead “I’ll get you some ice, come inside”

end notes: i wanted to get this out in time for cherry’s bday!

[harrysgoldenline]

When In Italy Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

He remembered your order.

It was all you could think about after you sat down, a waitress coming quickly to your table and he gave you a look, asking you if that’s what you wanted. You gave a small nod and you refrained from commenting on it, not wanting to stroke his already enlarged ego you are sure has only gotten big since you have seen him last based on… well everything.

The waitress thanked you both, taking your menus and leaving the two of you alone, giving one another an awkward smile before you looked down at your hands, now regretting pretending to not know what to order in order to hide behind your menu a bit more.

“So…” Harry began, fingers drumming onto the table, “how have you been?”

You let out an airy laugh, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow before leaning back in the woven dining chair, warm Italian sun hitting your face as you looked out at the view and back to him, not even sure what to say. You, obviously, were not doing great and he was.

You open your mouth to start to answer but stop when the waitress comes back, placing the cool, water glasses in front of you and they quickly become interesting as you watch the condensation drop down from the glass onto the table.

“Y/n…” Harry began, looking up at you and sighing when your eyes met, “Can you talk to me? I just want to see what you’ve been up to.”

“What about you?” You counter, heart pounding against your chest, “I feel like you’re the one who needs to check in and share some updates more than anyone else, don’t you think?”

“I guess I deserve that.” He chuckled, taking a sip of water and looking at you over the glass causing you to scoff.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny.” you glare, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to calm your pounding heart, “really makes the whole situation better.”

“Okay, you’re right, I’m sorry,” He nodded, holding his hands up in defense, “but I didn’t know you were going to be there, I would have never brought her if I would have known that, obviously and I’m sorry it happened this way but I’m glad I saw you, I’m glad to see you.”

“Who is she?”

He looked surprised by your question, not expecting you to rip the band-aid off in the way that you did. But, you knew him. Better than anyone you’ve ever known in your life and you couldn’t understand why he was beating around the bush like this so much. You also needed this for yourself, not wanting to fall for his famous charm, looking into those beautiful, jade eyes you knew you would be done for.

It’s the reason your sitting across from at this table at all, not being able to resist his smile, his sot, caring voice as he asked you to see him, having no idea what you would be getting into all, you said yes without any hesitation and you decided in that moment, watching as he went around the clear high priority topic with ease.

“Her name is Olivia.” He sighed, “she’s the director of the movie I’m going to be in and…”

“You’re together?”

He didn’t answer, looking at his hands.

You nodded, taking his silence as the clear answer and you bit your bottom lip hard, tasting blood as your teeth sunk into the flesh, hoping the pain would stop the tears that were stinging your eyes. You could feel your hands shake and you let out a sigh, standing up from the table and running your hands over your skirt, frustrated he didn’t even have the nerve to come out and simply say it.

“I-I’m going to go,” You began to ramble, looking down at the water glass and you dug through your bag, looking for money to pay for your meal and tip the waitress, even though it wasn’t yet served to you, eyes burning as you did your best to keep in your tears.

“Please stay.” He whispered and you shook your head rapidly, pulling out your wallet and looking for a big enough bill, “Okay, let me just drive you back, put your wallet away this is on me.I asked you to come.” He added, pulling out his wallet and laying down a more than generous amount.

“No, please.” You whispered, stepping back as you stepped closer to you, “just, stay. Take my food with you. I’m gonna book a flight home and you guys can have the house to yourselves by tomorrow night.”

“Y/n-”

“Goodbye, Harry.”

You ignored his calls of your name, walking down the pavestone as you made your way through the quaint town, passing the many boutiques and gelato shops you two went through a dozen times.You also did your best to ignore the longing look of pity as you passed by the strangers, thankful your italian wasn’t as good as his, that way you didn’t have to also hear what they were saying about you.

You wandered your way through the beautiful village, wishing it brought you the same amount of joy as it always did, but not it just left you a bitter taste in your mouth, reaching for your phone and calling for a cab, looking up flights the second the car pulled up.

***

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of your alarm, heart wrenching at the realization that all of this was real and you fist rubbed your swollen eyes, sniffling as you sat up and the details all came back to you.

“He found someone else already.” you had sobbed into the phone to your best friend, clutching at your chest as your back was against the front door. “He already moved on, y/bff/n and he brought her here and-and… I-I got a flight home and I just don’t know what to do.”

You were beginning to hyperventilate, mind being unable to wrap around the fact that he had moved on so quickly, the man you thought you were going to marry, being together for years, had already moved on to someone else.

Your best friend had done her best to calm you, begging you to let them fly there to help get your things together, to at least meet you at a connecting flight so you weren’t flying home completely alone, but you didn’t allow it, knowing how much trouble they would get into with their boss.

“I’ll be there to pick you up.” they told you, after a long pause, their heart was breaking at the sound of your cries, “You’re gonna make it through this, y/n. I know you are.”

You weakly stumbled out of bed, walking straight to the closet and, once again, pulling your bags out and throwing them onto the bed, throwing your all clothes into a messy pile and zipping up the bag, pushing it into the hallway after quickly changed into a clean outfit, slipping on a pair of sneakers as you got ready for your flight home.

Forcing yourself to brush your teeth and run a comb through your hair was harder than you had ever imagined, hating to have to look at your reflection as the face of her was being compared side by side in your mind. You hated yourself more for wishing that Harry tried a little harder, wishing that he had ran after you and tried to at least explain more, extend the olive branch so to speak, even though it would never fully heal your wounds.

Your anxious mind wouldn’t stop reliving your morning with Harry and you couldn’t help but have regrets, wondering if you overreacted, wondering what would have happened if you stayed for the rest of the meal.

Could you ever be friends?

Pushing yourself away from the counter you hoped that the thoughts would subside, wishing you knew the answers but knowing you never would. You shuffled your way into the living room, curling up on the couch as you waited for the car to come pick you up and take you to the airport, not having the energy to reach to pick up the remote so you sat in silence.

Although it felt like minutes, an hour soon passed and you heard the knock at the door and you forced yourself up, grabbing your suitcase and wheeling it behind you as you opened the door, being greeted by the driver who took your suitcase from you and loaded it into the car as you followed behind, finding your place in the backseat.

The time went faster than you thought it would, the drive to the airports, the security line, flights, layovers, all of it. The next thing you knew you were walking down the steps of the airport, seeing the face of your best friend and running towards them, dropping your suitcase in the process as they quickly took you in their arms, holding you as tight as they could.

“I got you.” They whispered, rubbing your back as your tears sunk into the fabric of the fabric covering their shoulder, “I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart. You’re gonna be okay, I promise.”

“How do you know?” you horsley whispered, “my heart hurts so much.”

“I know, I know.” They whispered back, pulling back and looking you into the eyes, giving you a smile and wiping away your tears, “It’s going to be okay, I promise. You are an incredible human being, y/n, you are so unbelievably strong andI know that you can do this and I’m going to be there for you every single step of the way, okay?. ”

And they were.

Being there for you every single step of the way for the next two weeks since you got back from your trip and even moved into your apartment with you for a few days at first as you adjusted. Holding you every single time that you cried, always checking in and making sure that you were taking care of yourself and always being there for you to talk about everything, even though you weren’t quite ready yet, they were there for you when you were going to be and you couldn’t have been more thankful for that.

Now, after a couple weeks of healing, after your plummet on your journey of healing post break up, you felt like you were back on your way up. You started leaving your apartment more again and y/bff/n even got you to go out with them and a couple of friends one night.

Actually starting to feel better and even starting to feel a lot more like yourself.

Your phone buzzed and you quickly took a look down at it, seeing a text from y/bff/n

Be there soon! i can't wait to try out this new coffee place!

You smiled and sent back your quick reply, letting her know you were going to head downstairs touching up your makeup quickly as you looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled back at your reflection, seeing the glow and fullness starting to come back to your face, the circles under your eyes slowly disappearing more and more everyday.

Grabbing your purse off the kitchen counter and sliding on your shoes you got ready to leave your apartment, heading out the door and locking the door behind you, jiggling the handle to endure it was locked before turning on your heel to head out. You go to reach for the elevator button, but it dings as it announces its arrival and you step out of the way, allowing whatever neighbor to have a clear path to their apartment. Instead, you're met with a pair of familiar green eyes.

“Harry?”

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

Thanks for reading! Comments/feedback is always encouraged and that way I can let you know when the next part is up!!

Are you interested in a personalized imagine? check out my pinned post on my page or click the link below!

https://ko-fi.com/em21356

[golden-barnes]

Plum tarts and red carnations

Pairing: Florist! Bucky Barnes x F! Reader

Summary: Bucky is enamored with one of the employees of the bakery in front of his store.

Category: Fluff

Warning:s some self-doubting thoughts and cursing .

Word count: 2.5k

Author’s note: I have been thinking about this since that one anon and thank you @buckycuddlebuddy because you helped to inspire me further with this. Also think of Bucky as Beefy because I'm a softy for a gentle giant. Comment and reblog pls and thank you!

“Damn Jerry. You’ve been growing nicely. A little bit more, and you will be ready to find a new home, bud.” Bucky whispered to the little sprout he was watering. Bucky loved his morning routine.

Before opening up his shop, he would check on his nursery. Water the plants in his greenhouse, checking them to see how they have grown. He liked talking to them; they never judged him or ignored him. He even named them. Sam would help, too, though he treated it more as a joke.

After checking on the nursery, he would focus on making bouquets and arrangements for the store. Nobody knew he was the one who made those beautiful arrangements, and he liked it.

It was like therapy for him. Matching the flowers and creating bouquets with meaning was a talent Bucky didn’t know he had. By this point, the shop was opened and ready for business.

While preparing a rose bouquet, he saw a woman in an apron running out of the new coffee shop from the table next to the cash register. Oh shit, she’s pretty. He thought. He kept staring at her and forgot the fresh roses next to him, grabbed one carelessly.

“Fuck.” He accidentally pricked his finger with a thorn. He applied pressure to his wounded finger.

“Oh, are you okay, sir?” The pretty woman from the bakery asked. Bucky didn’t notice her entering the shop, and now she was here. Looking disheveled but incredibly beautiful.

“Yeah, happens all the time. What can I help you with?” He said, trying to sound as composed as possible. He could hear Sam’s voice in his head. “Play it cool, Buck.”The woman let out a sigh.

“I’m co-owner of the coffee shop, and it’s our opening day. I was encharged of the decorations, and I ordered some flowers from this other place, but when they got here, they were horrible. Like really bad. And oh god, I’m rambling, but I need a brand new arrangement.” She said all in one breath. Bucky had to fight a smile from appearing. Adorable.

“It’s okay. What colors did you want?” Bucky asked. The woman smiled at him.

“We wanted white and purples. Something simple. But honestly, I know nothing of flowers. I don’t understand why Wanda put me up with this? Now we are late, and I still have to finish decorating the cupcakes.” She explained while Bucky started to search for the flowers in his shop.

“Lilacs, with white peonies and lavender roses, would make a nice bouquet. How does that sound?” Bucky showed her the flowers he was referring to. The woman gasped.

“Oh, they are so pretty! You, sir, are a genius.” She gushed, still looking at the flowers. Bucky felt his cheeks getting red from receiving praise.

“I can bring it to you,” Buckywhispered, afraid that she might not like that idea. “You know, because you still have some stuff to finish, so you can do it, and I’ll bring it to you in less than 10 minutes.” She looked at him and went to hug him. Bucky tensed, not expecting the hug, but soon relaxed.

“You are literally my hero. Just ask for Y/N,” She said, walking towards the exit. “Wait, what’s your name?” She added, opening the door to leave.

“Bucky.” Y/N smiled at him. “See you later, Bucky.”

Bucky has never worked on an arrangement as hard as this one. He was already meticulous, but he really wanted to impress Y/N. Can you blame him? The pretty girl needed his help, and he wanted her to be happy. He even added some baby’s breath and this new white ribbon that had come in for weddings. He was very proud of it but also very nervous.

With a deep breath, Bucky entered the coffee shop. A brunette was at the door, cleaning the tables.

“Sorry, Sir. We are still aren’t open.” She said. Bucky gulped.

“Uhm. I’m looking for Y/N.” He told her; she looked at the flowers in his hands and understood. She yelled for Y/N, who came out of the kitchen with icing on her check, giving him the brightest smile.

“Hey, Bucky! That’s beautiful! How did you make such a pretty arrangement in less than 20 minutes?” She grabbed the vase out of his hands and set it on the counter. Bucky blushed and scratched his neck, shying away.

“It’s nothing.. I’m just happy you liked it.”

“How much do I owe you?” She asked. Bucky put his hands up.

“Oh, it’s on the house. Don’t worry. Call it a welcome gift.” He explained; Y/N jumped and gave him another hug. This time Bucky wrapped his arms around her.

“You are the nicest person on this fucking planet. I have to make it up to you. What’s your favorite fruit?” She pulled away from him and looked at Bucky in the eye. Bucky felt his breath hitch, and his palms get sweaty.

“I-I like plums.” He stuttered. She gave him a big smile and handed him a cookie.

“Hmm, I can make something with that.” She winked at him.

-

“I still haven’t named you, but honestly, I don’t know. You look like a Janelle, but also, I feel like that doesn’t fit.” Bucky said to the new cactus that arrived yesterday, in the afternoon.

“I think she looks like a Lucille.” Bucky turned around and saw Y/N with a box in hand.

“Oh, hi.” He felt embarrassed. She had heard him talk to his plants. Not even Steve had seen that. It was his private thing.

“She’s cute. What type of cactus is it?” She looked at it, not looking weirded out or anything.

“It’s called a Bishop’s cap. They grow to be very pretty and sprout a yellow flower. Not very popular in the shop, but there’s this new cactus crazy going on, and I thought to stock up.” Bucky explained, putting the cactus down next to the others.

“Do you name all your plants?” Bucky gulped and turned around to face her.

“Yeah, and talk to them too.” Bucky fought the urge to punch himself. Why would he say that? Fuck, now she is gonna think he is a fucking weirdo.

Much to his surprise, she smiled at him. She suddenly remembered the box she brought and opened it.

“For saving me yesterday, I made you a plum tart.” She opened it and pulled out the tart. Bucky felt his heart beating faster, and his hands get clammy.

“You didn’t have to.” “Ah! I beg to differ. Everyone that walked into our shop loved the flowers. They were really something. Like I couldn’t stop looking at them. So I had to show you my gratitude the only way I know how. With treats.”

“I couldn’t possibly eat that all alone. Want to share?” Bucky asked, giving her puppy eyes so she wouldn’t say no.

“You drive a hard bargain, Bucky. Has anyone ever told you can get away with murder with those eyes?” Y/N joked.

“I think my grandma’ probably said it. I have some silverware in the shop’s kitchen. When you have to be at your shop?” Bucky said, signaling her to follow him.

“I’m on break—perks of being the boss.” She explained while Bucky grabbed a few paper plates, forks, and a knife. She grabbed the knife and cut a big piece, and gave it to Bucky. Then she cut a piece for herself.

Bucky took a bite and accidentally let out a moan.

“I take it; you like it.” She winked at Bucky. He diverted his gaze from her. Why the fuck did I do that? Bucky screamed internally.

“It’s delicious. I can see why your shop has been packed since yesterday. Reminds me of my ma’s.” Bucky admitted.

“I’m glad, but I can’t take all the credit. You should see the coffee mixes Wanda came up with. They are the real star.” Bucky smiled at her. Nice and pretty… She let out a cough.

“How did you get really good with plants? Like sorry for the personal question, but you have a talent.” She inquired.

“Well, uhm. After getting discharged, my friend Sam suggested that I take classes to handle stress and PTSD. One of the classes was gardening, and I just found it so calming. So I started taking more courses and learning ‘till I decided to start my own business. I don’t think I could ever work anywhere else.” Bucky noticed her staring at him. “What?” He said, smiling awkwardly at her.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how you are the nicest man I’ve ever meet.” She said nonchalantly. Bucky chuckled.

“It’s nothing major. I just found my calling.” Bucky stated.

“I feel the same. I baked a lot in college, and then suddenly I was like fuck, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.” She recalled. Her eyes glowed under the light of the kitchen.

“I felt the same way when I started this shop.” Bucky admitted, she bit back a smile.

“By the way, I like the name—Howling’s flowers. Oh, and how pretty this store is, it looks like I walked in a magical forest.” She complimented.

“I- thanks. I named my store after my squad and the decor well; that’s kind of an embarrassing story.” Bucky chuckled nervously. She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, please. I own a coffee shop named Magic café, and all of our items are named after magical things. I am the last person to judge.” Bucky bit his lip nervously while listening to her.

“I based it on The Hobbit. It was my favorite book when I was younger, and I just couldn’t imagine decoring this store anyway else.” Y/N looked at him with an open mouth.

“Okay, are you government android? Because you are friendly, great with plants and well-read. You are too good to be true.” She laughed. Bucky needs to find a way to blush less in her presence because this is like the fourth or fifth time it has happened.

They finished eating their pieces of tart and talking for a while. Y/N decided to go back to the shop, not realizing how much time she spent there. Before leaving, Bucky gave her some more lavender roses.

“Oh, Bucky, you don’t have to.” She protested.

“It’s just to add to the arrangement. I feel like it was missing a few more roses. You’ll be doing me a favor.” He assured. She grabbed the flowers and smelt them before smiling and giving him a small thanks.

Little did she know that lavender Roses mean love at first sight.

They played that little game for weeks, almost 2 months. Y/N would take her lunch break at Bucky’s shop. Feed him some food and pastries that she was experimenting with, and he would give her flowers.

“To put on the counter. Your store deserves fresh flowers every day.” Bucky claimed. But in actuality, all the flowers meant something. The white camellias? He was telling her that he admired her. The amaryllis? That he found you beautiful. The white and purple stocks? A silent plea for bonds of affection from your part. But he couldn’t bring himself to say these things out loud.

Speaking to Y/N in flowers was much easier. Maybe because she didn’t know and couldn’t reject him.

“Bucky, you gotta tell her, man.” Steve would try to reason with him. “She likes you; you like her. Just tell her that you like her or ask her out on a date.”

“You don’t get it, Steve.” Bucky would argue, which led to an entire discussion on how Bucky is being a coward that ended with him telling Steve and Sam to fuck off.

But they were right; it was simple. She has been an absolute doll with him. She doesn’t mind hearing his rants about the new book he read and helped him water his plants. She even bought waterproof labels to put their names on their planters. She even asked (more like demanded) Bucky to send her the pictures of every bouquet and arrangement he made. She loved seen his creations.

And he loved being her test subject. She would bring him new pastries to try. He was her official taste tester. Anything new in the store, Bucky had already tried it in every one of its variations. Y/N would speak to him of all of her special interests and all of her new hobbies. He had even met all her friends, and they loved him.

So why was this so difficult? Bucky groaned while arranging the flowers at the front of the shop.

“What’s got you all groaning and gloomy, Bucky-bear?” Y/N asked him. She looked radiant in her work clothes. Ugh, Bucky had it bad.

“Nothing, j-just thinking.” He nervously replied.

“Don’t overthink. You might over-heat your brain, bubs.” She joked, entering Bucky’s shop. And like the hopeless romantic he is, he followed.

“Soooooooo I have been trying out this new pasta recipe, and you are the only one I trust to give me the truth.” She said, opening the Tupperware she brought. Bucky’s heart fluttered at her words. He felt light-headed; maybe that’s why he couldn’t stop himself from opening his mouth.

“I like you.” He blurted out. He slapped his hand over his mouth. Y/N turned to him, widen eyes, and mouth gaped.

“Bucky, do you mean that? Because if you are playing with me, I will fight you with this.” She warned Bucky, threatening with a spoon.

“I like you a lot. Actually love you. I- that’s what those flowers meant.” Bucky explained. Y/N put down the spoon.

“What flowers?” She asked, in the softest tone he has ever heard her speak in. Bucky turned his gaze to the floor, embarrassed that this was his confession.

“All of them. They all meant love in one form or the other.” He admitted. Y/N stood in front of him and put her hand on his cheek. He felt his heart do backflips.

“What flower means I’m in love with you, Bucky?” She asked, caressing his cheek.

“Maybe red carnations.” He joked, leaning into her touch.

“I’ll ask this handsome florist with a heart of gold to make me a bouquet to give you.” Bucky chuckled while she let out a little giggle.

“I would love a bouquet, but I would much rather have a plum tart from the sexy baker on the store out front.” Y/N hummed.

“I think I can make that happen.” She said, pulling him closer. “Can I kiss you, Bucky?” She asked; Bucky could only nod.

She grabbed his face and pressed her lips against his. Bucky wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer, molding her body against him. Their lips gliding over each other smoothly, as if they were made for each other.

They pulled away to take a breath, and they both had the same dopey smile. Tarts and carnations. Who knew they mixed so well?