#continuing in my tradition of making everything about Black people lol

[madisonmccoy]

Teo Tomczuk tells us about the next season of Rykter!

https://730.no/forteller-om-neste-sesong-teo-tomczuk/%5C~%5D

SOMMERFJAS with Teo Tomczuk

By Tayiba Haji

3 July 2024 at 15:47

Teo Tomczuk sits down with SOMMERFJAS 😎 🎵 ☀️

-

(y’all this one needed a lot of cultural context to understand properly so you can see my personal explanations/rambling below in red lol)

“Fellesferien” has officially started (this is also known as general staff vacation in English, a practice where all employees at a workplace have time off at the same time, and in Nordic countries this typically takes place during warmer months like August). And while some people turn their sights towards the South (warmer/more southern countries in Europe), others are settling in well at their Norwegian cabins.

The next man out for our Summer column is Teo Tomczuk (born in 2006).

You may know him as Mathias from the NRK series “Rykter”, but in his spare time Teo is also very involved in music.

[730.no](http://730.no) had a chat with the Bergen native about his summer favorites. As well as what we can expect from the highly anticipated third season of “Rykter”.

Hi Teo! Do you have any exciting plans for the summer?

“I am going to play some concerts in Poland, and travel around Poland a bit. And I am going on vacation to Croatia with my best friend! It's a bit funny because all the “russegruppene” in all of Norway are going there exactly when we are going there." 

(Russegruppene, or Russ groups, describe groups of students in their final semester of high school that celebrate the tradition of Russefeiring, or russ for short. This happens over a period of several weeks leading up to summer, and it is basically a continuous party commonly linked to drunkenness & public disturbances. It's also a tradition for the students to wear special overalls for the event, usually red or blue. Many groups choose to rent or buy party buses to drive around during this time. This tradition is unique to Norway and is an interesting read for those unfamiliar with it!)

Lovely! What kind of style do you go for in the summer then?

“I wear a lot of black clothes even though it's summer.”

What does the perfect summer day look like for you?

“A cabin trip combined with a fishing trip! And making music in the evening.

What movie/series did you last watch? And what roll of the dice do you give it?

“I saw The Fall Guy in the movie theater, it was very well made. The entire production. Dice roll 6!” (The roll of the dice is a Norwegian rating system for media, with 1 being the worst and 6 being the best)

Speaking of cool productions: Has the third season of “Rykter” been recorded?

“The third and fourth seasons have actually been recorded!”

Wow, so cool! What can we expect from the new season?

“You can expect a lot of love, broken hearts. Many try lots of new things and find out who they are. Mostly they get to know themselves. There will be a lot of identity stuff!”

Do you have any tips on what someone could do on a rainy day?

“I live in Bergen, so I'm used to that. The fish bite more when it rains. And make music of course.”

Do you have a favorite restaurant that you just have to visit in the summer?

“Mammas Kjøkken!” (Mom’s Kitchen)

How are you at parties?

“I'm the one who tries to put on 70s rock, haha! I’m really not the biggest party type then.”

What can we expect from you on the music front?

“I try to find my own sound. I developed a new style of pop rock that I think people can vibe with. There will be more international music, a bit of everything.”

What is this summer's vorspiel (pre-game) anthem?

"Immigrant Song - Led Zeppelin”

What is this summer's nachspiel (afterparty) anthem?

"The End - The Doors”

(Vorspiel and nachspiel are German words that are used in Scandinavian countries to mean pre and after party)

What song is best to dance to?

“Lonely Boy by The Black Keys.”

What is your darkest party memory?

“I broke a tooth once haha!”

Huh?

“Yeah, it was crazy. I was going to open a bottle. Fortunately, it went fine in the end.”

Luckily! Do you have any good tips for the day after a party?

“In Poland we have a soup that grandmas and moms have often made over the years. It's damn good the next day. And just drink lots of water before and after.”

What do you spend the most money on in the summer?

“Probably beer!”

Who would you most like to meet this summer, and why?

“The best thing would be to meet my role models.”

And who are they?

“Many of them have died, but of the ones who are alive: Alex Turner and Ozzy Osbourne.”

(ALEX TURNER MENTION !!!)

Have you ever had a summer fling? Or is there anyone who counts as one this year?

“Not this year, but I've had ones in the past. It's best during the summer, that’s really when it’s the nicest.”

Can you send us some random photos from your camera roll this summer?

Thank you so much and have a happy summer, Teo!

“Likewise!”

[ziggyonlinepresence]

4th March (week 1) - Conceptual... CONTINUED.

Idea 1, iPhone Panoramas, 1/2

The idea.

This idea is the one I have produced the most work for, I begun making these images in December 2022 and consistently made images throughout 2023. They started off purely as something fun, I had just finished an intensive year of making, finishing my Hons year at uni. But more over it had been an intensive few years of making at uni. Throughout uni I had worked in many different avenues of photography, but with a consistent interest throughout all four years, in B&W analogue photography.

By the end of the degree I was feeling burnt out by making, I found that the majority of images I made in the following months were just on my iPhone. Far less pressure was felt with this way of making, for the first few months it didn't occur to me that I was making at all, I was just having fun and taking (not making) pictures, based off pure instinct.

After a while though I begun to ponder what meaning might be found in these pictures. The first thing that came to mind for me was Value. Fine Art Photography (hate to use that term lol, but the distinction from photography is important) is in somewhat of a constant questioning of value, in both literal financial value and more abstractly, artistic value. It's hard to measure what brings value to an art photograph. Many art outsiders, I think, would see little difference in value between Fine Art and regular photography. But these same outsiders will find easy distinction in the value of a photograph and an oil painting. This is a fairly basic thought, but, I think, worth mentioning.

So what can give a photograph value? I think there are a number of potential factors, one being process. With my own practice as an example, working in more "traditional" methods of black and white hand printed photography, can easily add an element of greater value than say a more modern everyday photograph. There are more elements to this (Which I aim to write about further in the future) but for sake of time I'd like to stick with just this one.

So, with these ideas of value and process in mind, I made a connection to my iPhone panoramas, they have almost no perceivable value to them. They are just iPhone photos, the most everyday vernacular images. So to me these works became more about the act of making (no longer taking).

12:06 on the 26th of January, 2023, 250x172.

This is the first and so far only panorama to be shown publicly. It was shown and sold at PhotoForum's silent auction in July 2023.

12:06 on the 26th of January, 2023

I took this picture on a drive down south for a festival, we had made a quick stop to pee and also admire the view of Mount Ruapehu, which you can see in between the trucks freight containers. When making the images I panned my phone following the trucks speed which produced the extending effect, I really like how this effect works in the image. It's not so obvious at first glance that something is "wrong" with the image, as everything else is in order. A few people have commented that at first they assumed the truck to be a train. I also think that the truck almost entirely covering Ruapehu is visually interesting, as Ruapehu would typically be the main point of focus in this scene. I think the colour pallet is very pleasing too :)

I also cropped the image down to a ratio close to 4x5, this was done to displace the image from what would typically be expected of a panorama. Which is, I think, key to making these images interesting.

[owengrose]

Black Batman

I've been thinking about how dope a Black Bruce Wayne would be, so here's a story summary and fancast:

Thomas and Martha Wayne both come from old money Black families in the predominantly Black town of Gotham. The city was flooded with supervillains over time, mirroring the way real-life Black communities have been flooded with drugs to create a reason to crack down on those communities. Some of these supervillains were planted there by the government, some are Gothamites reacting to the stressors of life there. Inspired by the actions and policies of the Black Panthers, they start a number of community programs, like free breakfast for kids during the summer when they can't get a meal from school. When their actions start getting a little too radical, someone in Gotham has them assassinated.

Lamorne Morris as Bruce Wayne. When, shortly after his parents' murder, a paparazzi harrassed Bruce with comments like "Smile, Brucie! Why so serious?" he cultivates a carefree but dimwitted party boy persona in public to protect himself. He regularly exposes corrupt dealings, both political and corporate, by "endorsing" them and saying the quiet part so loudly that it ruins their aspirations and credibility, while making himself look too dumb to know that he wasn't supposed to say that. In private, Bruce is much more serious and reserved. He uses both Wayne Enterprises and his own resources as Batman to try and provide for the people of Gotham. He can see Gotham for what it is, both the glamorous facade and the gritty reality, but Gotham (and others) can never see who he truly is, under his Batman mask or his Bruce Wayne mask.

His rule of no killing, in addition to a reaction to his parents' murder, is also born out of his belief in community. No matter what they've done, all these people are still citizens of Gotham who have been failed by the institutions that are supposedly there to protect them. For better or for worse, Batman refuses to kill because Bruce wants to save them all.

LeVar Burton as Alfred Pennyworth. Alfred did his best to raise Bruce the way Thomas and Martha would have wanted. Seeing how Bruce was floundering after his parents' death, Alfred arranged for martial arts training to give him an outlet for his pain and rage. While he worries about Bruce's safety (and the safety of the Robins down the line), he understands the motivations behind Batman and won't ask him to stop. He will tell him to be careful every time, though.

Brian Tyree Henry as Clark Kent/Superman. Mild-mannered investigative reporter Clark Kent by day, heroic Superman by night. Whether he's a literal alien as Superman or one of only a handful of Black people in Kansas, Clark has always been perceived as a violent threat. Where Batman leans in to being feared, Superman actively shies away from it. Where Bruce cultivates a public persona, Clark represents himself exactly as he is (minus the not being human part). Clark thinks Bruce is dishonest while Bruce thinks Superman doesn't go far enough. Clark resents Bruce's ease of access to exposing corruption, Bruce resents Clark's relative safety. They come into into conflict over each other's methods and approaches. But there is significant respect between the two, and they trust each other implicitly.

[blackgirlsuperherorants]

I'm starting to see some ... takes about Wakanda Forever 🥴. Idk, maybe I need to watch again. I will be seeing it on Sunday, but I'm gonna put my thoughts under the cut, and y'all let me know what y'all think? Because it's making me feel some kinda way.

Okay, I was gonna put screenshots up, but nevermind, I'll just talk about it.

So, people are saying Wakanda was the aggressor in this movie, and I do not see how they see it that way at all. This man on Twitter said "I do not get Black Panther... am I suppose to think the Wakandans are the noble ones? They're the Israel of the Middle East. They start a conflict and then act like the victims... This movie continues to convince me that the MCY exists to promote the values of American foreign and domestic policy as virtuous. The right of a technologically advanced nation to commit words and actions to another they immediately recognize as wrong when the same is done to them."

So, a reply to one of my posts made me realize that this is because Nakia killed the two girls guarding Shuri and Riri.

But this take is so ???? to me, because Namor is the aggressor. He's doing nothing but threatening Wakanda from the moment he reveals himself to them. He tells them that they WILL ally with him against the rest of the world or Talokan will wipe Wakanda off of the map. And this isn't an empty threat. They will. They CAN. They could have absolutely destroyed Wakanda during that first invasion, but Namor still wanted to convince Shuri to join him. (Also, we are not to look at Talokan as a technologically inferior nation. Wakanda has tech that looks like the future of surface people, but Talokan has advanced tech, too. Remember, THEY built the suit that Shuri used, and those water bombs, and those translators, and those breathing apparatuses. They are super advanced, too. Their thing is just that they kept their traditions and have no European influence.)

And at the moment when Nakia kills those two women guarding Shuri and Riri, Namor is THREATENING TO KILL SHURI IF RAMONDA DOESN'T COMPLY. So, basically, it was "Help me fuck up the surface dwellers or I'll kill the only family you have left."

If your logic is "well, if you kill someone from that country, obviously they're gonna attempt to destroy everyone and everything you love lol" then why isn't the entire MCU always in a constant World War? Nakia rescued the princess. In any other MCU movie, those two deaths would have been meaningless. Of course they meant something to Namor because he cares deeply for his people, but let's not pretend that the action of holding a princess for ransom isn't in itself an act of war.

Do we stan Namor? Yes. Do I like how he's written in this movie? Yes. But do we pretend that a queen who has NO IDEA where her daughter is and believes her to be in danger is not within her rights to send someone to find her? Like... what the fuck does that have to do with American imperialism?

And when they draw Namor and his warriors out with their vibranium finding machine, how is that... like... bad? It's a war movie. Namor and his people can infiltrate Wakanda easily. They have done it multiple times at that point. Why is it bad to draw THEM out on THEIR turf? How is this movie about American foreign and domestic policy? I don't see ANY parallel there. And I don't at all see the Israel parallel. Wakanda is not a place that decided to take land where other people already live, slowly push those people out of the land altogether, and treat those people subhuman. There is no Palestine in this scenario. Where's the Israel comparison? Is it the outreach program?

And isn't AMERICA the one true bad guy of the movie? Like, both Wakanda and Talokan are opposed to America getting Vibranium, and Val and the CIA are working double time to try to fuck Wakanda up (THROUGH DESTABILIZATION) so that they can eventually gain control of the vibranium.

Seriously, I am a huge Namor stan. He is aggressive and does things without mercy or compassion. He is not a poor, innocent tribal man. He is a cold, calculating genius. He's canonically a genius. Let's not pretend Talokan are somehow Wakanda's victims. They are two extremely powerful nations, probably the most powerful two on Earth, and pretty evenly matched, and they ended up fighting because Namor wanted something that Shuri found unreasonable, and that if they didn't agree to, he was going to kill her and invade Wakanda, anyway.

And TRUST ME, America stands NO CHANCE against Talokan. There's not American propaganda about this movie. It's clear that Talokan would fuck America up with little problem. They just wanted to team with Wakanda for better land advantage.

[ravenclaw-daydreams]

𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 | 𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

Warnings: August is dead lol, violence, avenging your husband by violence, angst angst angst.

Summary: Ethan is the reason you lost your muse, so you plan to make him suffer.

A/n: I felt depressing, this is the result. Much love but if I'm salty about August's death, you are too. It's short so-

.

"I'LL KILL HIM! I'LL KILL THE FUCK WHO DID THIS!" the siren scream echoed off the marble walls as feminine cries of agony released themselves out of a now sore throat.

The woman held the corpse of her lover to her chest, not caring about the gore that got on her dress due to his marred flesh. His eyes were closed, his body lifeless.

There, Y/N Walker held her husband's corpse close to her chest, rocking herself back and forth as she screamed to the heavens profanities and promises of revenge. Anger wasn't even a word to describe what she was experiencing. Her blood boiled and her heart bled, emotions pouring out like a geyser.

"WHO DID THIS? WHO FUCKING DID THIS?" she screamed at the people who brought her the corpse.

Their gazes were full of pity for her loss as they hung their head down low, "His name is Ethan. Ethan Hunt."

Her soft hands gently took his left hand in hers, her dainty fingers pulling the wedding ring off his, holding it to her chest as the tears continued to flow.

"Take him out of here. Treat him with the utmost respect and get him to a morgue. We'll give him a proper send-off. Also, get me absolutely everything you know on Ethan Hunt."

.

When Ethan came too, the first thing that he noticed was that he couldn't move his hands. He couldn't move anything, in fact, his brain taking in his surroundings. He was no doubt in a warehouse of some kind, in a metal chair, his hands not tied back with rope, but with steel cuffs.

The next thing, he noticed, however, was the melody that seemed to find his ear, a lovely mixture of notes. He recognized the song, Polkadots, and Moonbeams with Frank Sinatra. He shook his head in an attempt to wake himself up more, convinced this was a dream.

"This was our song, you know," a silky voice announced from a dark corner of the warehouse, directly behind a currently inebriated Ethan.

"Every Sunday evening, he would insist we slow danced to it once. A tradition that never seemed to get old," the owner of the voice came into sight, clad in a black dress, a necklace around her neck.

Ethan began to put the pieces together, his eyes narrowing at her as he began to recognize her face.

"You're-"

"His wife."

Her words were filled with venom. The heels on her feet clacked across the concrete floor, making a haunting echo ring through the seemingly empty space.

Ethan then realized she had a hand behind her back, and he was sure it was nothing good.

"They say that love can make people do crazy things. Unluckily for you, August was the one person that I loved most in the world, and it took way too long to find you, you're good at hiding," she began to explain, having to swallow the lump in her throat when mentioning her dead lover's name.

"That's what this is about? He was a madman set on killing thousands upon thousands of innocent people! I did what had to be done," Ethan bit, making her raise a brow.

"Since the death of my husband, I've had this deep... pain in my stomach. He was such a large part of me, you know," she began to approach her prey, a blade being revealed, but before he could react, she gave a firm, hard stab into his abdomen.

He gasped and grunted in pain as he looked her directly in the eyes, horrified when he saw a look of glee spread on her face.

"Now we share the same pain," she insisted, before yanking the blade out of his flesh, "And Ethan, I have so much to tell you about the pain you caused me..."

She paused, before snapping her fingers, two men emerging from another dark corner, his time with a sloo of dangerous, bladed weapon.

"I plan on making you feel every second of it," she confessed.

And as Ethan's eyes widened in terror, her hand drifted to August's ring strung around her neck, her fingers stroking it gently. At that moment, she knew, she would avenge her husband.

[devilsskettle]

@talus-the-broken i'm not gonna keep harping on this on someone else's post because i'm not going to be rude to the op, but yeah, let's get into it

popular nonacademic ideas about mythology don't define what greek mythic tradition is. there might not be a difference to the "general public" because they don't know what the difference is, and taking their definition of mythology as just as legitimate as the accepted academic definition of mythic tradition is blatantly anti-intellectual and ridiculous. you and other people making this argument are reifying the idea that humanities aren't a legitimate discipline. accepting the idea that there's no meaningful difference to the layman so anything that anyone claims without any citations or background knowledge (even to a basic level!) can and should be given equal weight is simply justifying the spread of misinformation about ancient greek culture, history, literature, and religion. maybe that doesn't seem important to you, but again. blatantly anti-intellectual and destructive to the perception of history as a discipline 

there's no denying the way that ancient mediterranean studies as a field has a long history of reinforcing regressive social standards, perpetuating racism, sexism, homophobia, etc to this day. it's a huge problem. it's also, in my experience, what you discuss on day 1 of an intro classics course. it's also been written about and widely discussed since the 80s with the beginning of the black athena movement. right now, it’s a subject of much controversy and debate about how to progress as a field. also, i have to ask: what field of study doesn't have a history of and is still impacted by systemic oppression and bias? there are problems of accessibility in every discipline of academia. including science, if we continue the comparison. biology has been used to legitimize racism for hundreds of years. do we reject biology as a field or do we reject the scholarship that is entrenched in bigotry and work to do better going forward as a field? you need to learn critical thinking skills and recognizing legitimate sources of information, if you’re taking everything (anything!) at face value, you’re a bad historian. and of course much information has been lost to time, but that is not the same as “much of history is lost.” that’s a fundamental misunderstanding of history as an academic field, especially one as interdisciplinary as and covering as long of a timespan as ancient mediterranean studies. although we only have like, what, 1% of the literature spanning all of the time that we call antiquity? that’s still more writing than any person could even come close to reading in their lifetime. it doesn’t mean we don’t know anything and modern historians are just making shit up. not to mention archaeological evidence lol 

on the question of separating the "true" from modern fabrication, or what you call “fanfiction of the myths,” for the layman: look at the texts from antiquity that we have. we don't have to wonder what these stories were because we have them. we have the text of the iliad. we have the text of hesiodic poetry. we have the text of many greek tragedies. and guess what? they are translated! they are free online! there are resources to understand these texts free online! there is no excuse to post unfounded opinions based on misinformation when you could just. not. you could read the work that you want to say something about before making baseless claims about it on the internet lol and the way you talk about sources of mythology, i have more than a modicum of doubt that you have read anything beyond bulfinch and text posts on tumblr.edu, so i can hardly count you as a reliable source of information on the topic 

so. you say that the differences between adaptations is time. that is part of it actually! but what aren't you getting about "a mythology that is no longer naturally developing over time doesn’t include works written thousands of years after the culture itself doesn’t exist anymore." that's an incredibly important distinction because if you give equal weight to these stories as part of ancient greek mythic tradition, you are once again supporting the spread of misinformation about ancient greek culture, history, literature, and religion. and it is so egotistical and entitled to act like we can be equal contributors to the history, literature, and religion of a culture that we don't belong to. that doesn't exist anymore. and if you're so concerned about people using mythology to justify racism and imperialism, maybe you shouldn't be reifying the propaganda that all "western culture" is derived from and has a stake in and overlaps significantly with ancient "greco-roman" culture, that we are a part of this tradition and lineage, because we're not. modern greek culture is not. also, to say that these stories were written by "random writers" is to once again show a fundamental inability to understand that greek mythic tradition developed orally over centuries and was a part of everyday life and culture. homer isn't a "random writer," it's a name that was assigned to a figure who is essentially mythological in his own right, and it's still used today as shorthand attribution and as a way to talk about the many aoidoi who established and continued the stories of epic tradition across generations. homeric epic was written down somewhere in the 8th century BCE but existed in oral tradition well before that. the mythic pool of traditions developed the same way. this shit doesn’t exist in a vacuum. it's not like writing fanfiction for a fucking marvel movie in the year of 2022 CE

also i don’t get why you keep harping on the validity of modern adaptations that deviate from the “original” story. i don’t care about that at all and i have actively enjoyed adaptations that are wildly different from their mythological basis (autobiography of red for example). so. i will try to say this as clearly as possible to avoid further confusion: modern adaptations of mythology matter because of what it says about our society. it’s a legitimate part of our canon of literature. we should be critical about it based on what it means for us, what they changes the author chooses to make means for us. it is not part of the ancient greek canon for the reasons i have already stated multiple times. it is distinct from greek mythology. if you want to call it fanfiction because you can’t engage with literature in any other way, fine. but writing in general is not fanfiction (again: modern original fiction) and mythology is not fanfiction 

and so we come to the ludicrous idea that any piece of writing can arbitrarily be called fanfiction because it is “based on” something, meaning any aspect of reality (biology is just fanfiction of animals! physics is just fanfiction of the forces of nature! history is just fanfiction of the past! if you can't see why that's stupid, you're a lost cause). you still have not defined "fanfiction" in a meaningful way, but apply the term to whatever literature you feel like. here's a definition for you: fanfiction is a genre of writing developed in the late 1900s at the advent of the internet, referring to works written based on another author's work, existing outside of that work's canon, as a way to further explore the characters, setting, or themes of a story (addendum 1: often written by nonprofessionals and then self published, addendum 2: often, but not necessarily, of a sexual nature). that is what i mean by "fanfiction" and i believe it aligns with most people's definition of it. don't take my word for it, though! always demand those sources! here's the definition and graph of use over time from the oxford dictionary:

to sum up. basically your argument is: 1) the layperson makes no distinction between oversimplified mythology or adaptations vs the actual ancient greek mythological tradition, so we shouldn’t either. 2) scholarship around mythology and derivative works have been influenced by bias and prejudice, so it doesn’t matter how we talk about mythology. 3) we don’t really know anything about these made up stories written by random people in antiquity so made up stories written by random people in the modern era should have equal weight in the discussion of the ancient greek pool of traditions. anything i missed? because i believe i have covered why each of these points is extremely flawed 

and i still haven’t seen an answer on the following: why do you guys insist on taking the idea that fanfiction isn’t inherently garbage to the most radical opposite extreme possible? do you think you’re somehow legitimizing fanfiction? or do you think you’re making history and literature more “accessible” by dumbing it down until it’s unrecognizable?

anyway, you said it yourself: “[F]or all practical purposes, to the general public there IS no difference. That's not to say there shouldn't be.” i agree! there is a difference and there should be a difference and we should not reify the idea that there is no difference even if it seems like it doesn’t matter, because somehow it has become a popularly held belief that engaging with mythology as if it is a fandom on the internet is just as legitimate as rigorous scholarship on the same subject to the point that the most common interpretations of these myths are based on misinformation and defended with anti-intellectual rhetoric, much of which is steeped in socially regressive views, and that speaks to a bigger problem of media illiteracy and anti-intellectualism that extends beyond shipping discourse or what have you on this shitty ass website 

sorry about the bulfinch/bullfinch inconsistency though, i liked the “bullshit mythology” pun 

[drowsy-writer]

I Can't Stop— regulus black x reader

Summary: An unmovable object vs. an unstoppable force (aka Reader tries to get Regulus to bed) 

Warning:  cursing, angst, bittersweet fluff, crying

Notes: Reader has she/her pronouns and is a Hufflepuff; this can also be read as either romantic or platonic also yes I sometimes face claim regulus as Benjamin Wadsworth pls don’t @ me i’m new here lol

Hogwarts 1975

Every Hufflepuff knows that when 10:00 hits, the kitchen goes silent. No pots boil, no ovens switch on―without the house elves, the place is as silent as the library on a good day. The alluring scents of the day’s meals would linger in the air, hitting the face of every Hufflepuff who entered eager to make it to their common room and call it a night.

Tonight the smells of roasted chicken and creamy beef stew were replaced with the stingy aroma of coffee as two students sat at the end of the kitchen’s massive table, books spread out amongst themselves. Two gigantic porcelain mugs were placed within arms reach and a fresh pot of coffee sat between them.

“Find anything yet?” the Hufflepuff asked. Her [h/c] curls bounced slightly as she looked up from her piece of parchment, observing the pale Slytherin boy across from her scrunch his brows.

“No,” Regulus shut another book and tossed it on top of the stack next to him. He reached over to his mug, which embarrassingly had an orange flat-faced kitten painted on it, and downed its remaining contents. He then slammed the mug on the table and ran both of his fingers through his short ebony locks,” nothing. Yet.”

“House elves are bound to wake up soon,” [Y/N] mused. She cocked her head towards the tiny door sitting next to the fireplace,” maybe we should call it a night.”

Regulus groaned as he reached for the pot of coffee and poured himself another cup. The pot shook a bit as Regulus poured it, the bags underneath his eyes growing darker. [Y/N] looked at her friend and sighed.

“We’ve gone through almost the whole library, Reggie,” [Y/N] said. Regulus took a quick swig of his refilled cup of coffee and cracked open another book,” look! That’s even the same book you opened last night. Cover and all!”

“Nope,” Regulus held up the book and tapped his pale finger on the cover where it read Volume 2. It was [Y/N]’s time to groan as she took her own mug, this one with a silly looking dog on it, and sipped at the now cold contents. Her face scrunched up as she placed the mug down,” Zatara might’ve been a loon, but he was Bullock’s assistant. He probably hid something in here so Dumbledore or anyone else couldn’t find and burn it..” 

“What makes you think that Volume 2 is gonna have something when the first one didn’t?” [Y/N] had got up from her chair, cold cup of coffee in hand, and dumped it down the drain of the sink behind her. She turned the faucet on, rinsing out the mug and gently putting it back on the drying rack. When [Y/N] spun around, she was met by Regulus’s signature scowl,” don’t get your knickers in a twist. You know I’m right. I’m always right with these sorts of things.”

“I know,” Regulus hissed. He looked back down at the book,” but right now, I’m hoping you’re wrong.”

[Y/N] huffed as she sat back down on her chair again. A small yawn escaped her lips but she knew it’d be a while until Regulus decided to pack his stuff and leave. This was the case every night since 2nd year where Regulus and [Y/N] would stay up right before the elves came back in to prep for breakfast, reading and discussing topics both school related and pure nonsense. Neither knew how this little tradition started and, quite frankly, neither cared. It was a breath of fresh air for [Y/N] and a sense of normalcy Regulus craved for within his ever turbulent life. 

As of recently, however, their midnight meetings were overwhelmed with a sense of dread. It had been months since Regulus had properly been exposed to the world of the Death Eaters and of Lord Voldemort, courtesy of his mother. From then on, he had been put into an almost inescapable hole, one that he was intent of crawling out of. Regulus might've not had the luxury of running away like his brother, but he sure as hell wasn't going to give in without a fight.

“So if I am wrong, what’s gonna happen next?” [Y/N] asked.

Regulus quirked a brow as he stopped reading the passage he was on. Not even bothering to look up, Regulus clicked his tongue in thought. He then, to [Y/N]’s annoyance, shrugged his shoulders and continued to read.

“I don’t know. Haven’t thought that far yet.”

“What do you mean you haven’t thought that far yet? We’ve been looking into Horcruxes for the past three months and you haven’t the clue as to what you’ll do next?!”

“Something like that.”

“You're so—,” [Y/N] let out a muffled scream as she buried her head in her hands,” you're insufferable, you know that? Why am I even friends with you?”

“Haven't thought that far yet either,” Regulus smirked. 

“Very funny, Reggie. Now c’mon,” [Y/N] motioned towards the stack of books,” let’s stash these away. We’ve got a Potions exam tomorrow morning, remember?”

“Yes, I remember.”

Regulus didn’t make an effort to get up and continued to read through the book. As Regulus flipped through another page, [Y/N] muttered underneath her breath as she jumped down from her seat and walked over to the Slytherin’s side.

“Alright. That’s it.”

Before Regulus could make sense as to what was happening, [Y/N] wrapped her hands around his waist and hoisted him up from the seat.

“[Y/N]?!” Regulus sputtered, dropping the book from his hands,” let me go!”

“Oh shut it, Black! You need to get some sleep!”

Still in her arms, Regulus tensed as their bodies pressed against one another. He cursed himself underneath his breath as his face flushed red.

“Just put me down. Now.”

“No.”

“[Y/N]—!”

[Y/N] tightened her grip as Regulus squirmed within her hold. She dragged him from his chair to the middle of the kitchen where he finally pushed himself off.

“What the hell was that for?”

“You need to sleep, Regulus! You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends. You’ll fall back if you keep doing this.”

“Well what else am I supposed to do, then? Run away from my problems like my brother? Ignore them? I can’t just turn away from my family and pretend nothing ever happened!” Regulus shouted. His breathing turned ragged, as if he just finished yet another Quidditch match, “what would you expect for me to do?”

“I—I don’t know! I don’t have the answers for everything!” [Y/N] retorted. Regulus groaned as he turned around, intent on picking up where he left off in his book,” but I do know that when the time comes, whatever remnants of a plan you do have, you’ll be too exhausted to do anything about it!”

Regulus stopped in his step as he stared at the rack of spices before him, afraid of meeting his friend’s eyes. He took a deep breath, composed himself, and turned around. His eyes had yet to meet [Y/N]’s as they shifted throughout the room.

“Why are you—ugh,” Regulus sighed as he ran his hands through his hair,” I just—this is how I work, [Y/N]. You’ve known it since 2nd year. Even when I stop, I can’t stop. When I go to sleep at night, my mind is still racing with all this bullshit about purebloods and Muggles and—.”

“But you can’t just—.”

“—And the fucking potions test you won’t stop telling me about! There’s so many things in my mind that I think Bellatrix’s head looks healthy compared to mine! I can’t stop thinking about my family, my house, even Sirius for Godric’s sake! I can’t stop worrying that if I were to put a pause for even a sliver of a second, everything I’ll ever love will cease to exist. I can’t risk that [Y/N]. Not for a second. Not when I have so much on the line.”

[Y/N] looked down at the floor as her friend’s words ran rapid through her head. She touched her forehead with the palm of her hand, dragging them down until they met the bridge of her nose. 

“Fucking—I know that, Regulus. I just—,” [Y/N] gave a pained expression as she pinched the bridge of her nose,”—fuck! I just want you to be okay, ok? You’re my friend. My best friend, actually. It hurts like hell because there’s nothing I can do about it. I can get you as many books as you want, sneak out around the castle as much as you want, lie to as many people as you want , but I can’t—no. I won’t stand here and watch you whittle away. Not when I can do something to prevent it.”

Regulus swallowed hard as his eyes met [Y/N]’s and the pit that had been growing inside his chest began to increase, pushing painfully against his rips. He felt his lungs constrict and if Regulus didn’t know any better, he’d say someone casted a Crucio curse on him and it was slowly ripping his body from the inside out.

“I just can’t let him win, [Y/N],” Regulus mumbled. He leaned back on the table and pressed both hands to his face, rubbing at his eyes as tears began to build up in the corners,” I can’t let that thing win, no matter what.”

Shielding his face from [Y/N], Regulus quietly sobbed as his friend stood in front of him, tears threatening to pour out from her eyes as well. Taking a deep, shaky breath, [Y/N] slowly walked towards her friend and gently wrapped her arms around him. Despite the slight size difference, [Y/N] was able to situate her friend so that his face was buried in the crook of her neck. She combed a hand through his inky, black locks.

“I know won’t,” [Y/N] said,” but I highly doubt snake face over there is going to wait for you to take a quick power nap. We’ll beat him, but not like this.”

Regulus’s grip tightened around [Y/N] and she felt his lips pull into a smile as a low chuckle emitted from him. 

“It’s amazing how you’re not a Ravenclaw with how much wisdom you spout out.”

“Well I’m far more interested in my friends then a bloody book,” [Y/N] stepped back, hands still wrapped around Regulus, and smiled,” now let’s clean up and head to bed. You deserve at least one good night’s rest.”

[shotossecretary]

bad day | Mafia AU Shoto Todoroki x Reader

This is my first fic! ahhhh so sorry if it’s not that great hahaha

Word count: 3740 gah damn, I did NOT expect for it to get this long LOL got carried away

Genre: Smut, NSFW

Summary: You’re a brat and Mafia!Todoroki isn’t having it after having a rough day dealing with issues of his own.

Warnings: Rough sex, slight degradation, spanking, slight BDSM, edging, overstimulation

“I don’t care what the excuse is, when I give you a job, you get it done.” Shoto growled at the pitiful heap of a man he just finished teaching a lesson to. He wiped the blood from his knuckles, scoffed at the man with disgust, and turned to leave. The other members looked on silently, never daring to interfere when their leader dished out discipline.

“Fuck.” Shoto scoffed as he hopped in his car, frustration making him scrunch his brow. He lingered on the steering wheel as he closed his eyes and leaned back on the head rest. What a day it had been. Since taking on one of the more significant leadership roles for the group, the stress had been building up through recent days. Today was the cherry on top. One of his men had a hit he was designated to fulfill and lost the man while simultaneously almost getting caught.

Such amateurs.

There were so many younger guys that had been recently recruited and the more they fucked up, the more Shoto felt his patience wearing down. They would laugh it off, dismissing the severity of being caught. That childishness is what set him off to the breaking point today of beating on of his guys as a reminder to acknowledge the consequences.

Shoto was a hero with a reputation that would be in grave danger if it was exposed to the public that he ran with a menacing crowd. They operated underground, attempting to fly beneath the public’s eyes as they carried out business ordeals at night and always, ALWAYS wore their signature black masks. Shoto never expected to be pulled into such a dirty cycle, but he justified it with the thought that their hits were against bad people. Aside from that, he hated to admit it- but he was a sucker for money. Their gang was one of the most powerful and intimidating in the area, and when they approached Shoto to join, it was a win-win for both sides.

 ---------------

Shoto backed out of the driveway and made his way home, annoyed thoughts biting at him the whole ride. Why did he have to worry about his men on top of everything else? In the moment, the thoughts of balancing his double life became overwhelming. He gritted his teeth and continued to weave through traffic. Being the reckless driver he was, he arrived at his luxury mansion in no time. Parking his car, his glanced in the rear view mirror to find an unforgiving reflection staring back at him. Running his hand through his hair, he attempted to make himself a bit more presentable. He didn’t have time for your questions, and knew if he showed up dirtied, you would pester him endlessly about it. Drained and ready to just get some peace and sleep, he stepped out of the car and made his way inside.

Your home was the perfect balance between modern and traditional. When you and Shoto got married, it didn’t take long to find the perfect one. Of course, he was straight out of hero school and was not affiliated with the gang yet. It almost tore you two apart when he joined. You were so opposed to his involvement in dark crimes- after all, he was a hero. Eventually, you tuned it out, trying your best to ignore the fact he ran with some of the most dangerous men.

Shoto burst through the door, clearly still angry. He threw his shoes off and mindlessly tossed his keys on the counter. You came out in the kitchen to greet him. Unaware that he had overlooked a stain of blood on his neck in his attempt to clean up before coming in, he pushed through to the bedroom.

“Where the hell did you get that from?” you narrowed your eyes as you tugged his shirt, halting him in the middle of the hallway.

Shoto half wanted to just dismiss it, but he knew you were just going to keep asking.

“I cut myself jumping down from a building when I was on a scene earlier rescuing a child.” He stated abruptly, hoping to shut your suspicions down. He knew you knew about his affiliations, but since you two never talked about it, he wasn’t about to bring it up now.

“Bullshit,” you said, “I went by the agency earlier to drop something off for you, and they said you weren’t on call tonight. You’ve been avoiding me the past week too, don’t fucking lie. This has something to do with that little mafia group of yours, doesn’t it?”

Heat mustering up in his chest, Shoto turned to face you, his heterochromatic eyes cutting through you.

“Why don’t you mind your fucking business? I thought you didn’t want anything to do with that part of my life, so why get all riled up now? Move. I had a rough day, I just want to sleep.”

You were done with his behavior.

“Because! You come home angry all the time, and I’ve already ignored some of the nights you come back with bloody clothes. That’s it, I’m over this. Running around fucking killing people like a criminal or pretending to be a hero. I can’t keep up with your shit anymore, Shoto.”

Shoto seethed at your words. Between his dysfunctional group of guys, the constant stress the agency was putting him under, and now YOU. He couldn’t take it. The patience in him snapped.

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

Before you knew what was happening, he had you by the wrist and forcibly led you to the bedroom. He pushed you in and locked the door behind him, looking more like a hungry predator than your husband. You knew his rough days got the best of him and when they did, the loving man you were infatuated with disintegrated. You couldn’t say you didn’t find some kind of satisfaction from bringing out his dark side, but damn, tonight he looked PISSED.  

He stood over you now, staring at you with carnal intent, before breaking the stare and tossing you on the armchair in the corner.

“You know, I had planned to just shower and go to bed, but since you wanted to put your nose where it doesn’t belong, you’ll learn your place tonight.” He leaned down to you, his face an inch from you. You turned away.

“Better be in position for me when I get out, princess” he whispered, his breath grazing your neck.

You knew what this meant. Every time he had a particularly rough day, he used you as relief. He got up and disappeared into the master bathroom, where you heard him let the water run and step in the shower.

You debated leaving like you were just yelling in the hallway about. But you couldn’t do that. He had eyes everywhere, he would find you. Besides, in some twisted way, you relished in the power this man had over you no matter how hard you tried to break it.

Realizing he would be done soon, you slipped out of the chair and into your designated position. You sat slowly on your knees, with your hands in your lap. You brushed your hair back, ready and waiting.

Then, a thought flickered across your mind- disobey him. You knew more than anyone how serious Shoto was when he gave orders, he expected full compliance. He was used to it. You never defied him.

He doesn’t deserve it. You thought, not wanting to give in to his demands. With that, you lifted yourself back up and into the chair, slouching and making it seem like you didn’t care. You waited as you heard his wet footsteps padding towards the door.

“You better be in position princess,” his voice drifted through the door.

You waited anxiously. He stepped in, clad in a black silk robe and gently rubbing his hair with the back of his towel. Your eyes studied his figure, one that was almost too beautiful for you sight. The robe was loosely tied so that his toned chest was exposed and his wet hair look….my god, was that your weakness.

A sharp “tch” snapped you out of your thoughts. He had lifted his gaze to see you, still in the same spot he left you in.

Your stomach fluttered seeing his realization that were defying him. A sly smile crossed your lips as you fixated your stare on his narrowed eyes. Dropping the towel on the floor, he approached you quickly, bending down to pinch your cheeks in his hand in a rather tight grip.

           “You think this is funny? I told you to be in position when I finished.”

You cocked your brow, your brattiness still stirring despite his grip on your face.

           “Didn’t feel like it”

In response to your tone, Shoto moved his hand from your cheeks to your hair, yanking you up and walking you over to the bed.

He pushed you over, as you stumbled to catch the side of the mattress, looking back at him, biting your lip, challenge still glimmering in your eyes as you silently dared him to do his worst.

Boiling with pure annoyance at your disobedience from earlier, the dominant in Shoto leaped out as he turned your head, forcing your upper body into the mattress. Your shorts were pulled down and his hand found the bridge in your back as he pushed down, hard.

“Stay right fucking there. I swear if you move.”

He went to the dresser and you could hear him fumbling through his belts. Once he came back over, he smoothed it and doubled it over. Keeping your composure, you tried to peer over at him, to which he noticed and quickly took his left hand and pushed your face forward.

“Keep your eyes forward. You’re going to watch.” 

You were facing the mirror that sat on the other side of your bed. Shoto kept his hand in your hair and brought down the belt to grazed your ass. You didn’t even see it in the air before you felt it. Taken aback by the force, you fell slightly forward and bit the sheets.

“What did I say- eyes up” Shoto barked.

You looked up with fire in your eyes, glaring at him. Seeing how mad you were did nothing but to intensify his hits, determined to break the brat in you tonight.

Smack. The second one came down hard and biting down on your lip, you struggled to keep your shriek in. “Sho-“ you whined quietly.

Shoto wasn’t pleased with your lack of response and continued to rain down spanks with no rest between, inevitably forcing tears to spring out of your eyes. “Who’s Sho? What do you call me princess? Better start acting right or this gets worse for you.”

“I-I meant Daddyy” you try and make up for your mistake. You looked at your reflection, now falling apart at the hands of your husband.

Your whimpers satisfied his ears as he threw the belt to the ground and stepped back to admire his work. Bending down to place a soft kiss on it, he let his tongue trace the newly formed welts.

“I didn’t want to do this princess, but you had to learn a lesson for being such a brat earlier,” he mumbled against your skin. You swayed your hips back, still panting from how winded the spanking got you. The coolness of his tongue felt soothing and for a moment you thought that was it. But he was far from done with you.

He spun you around. Falling back on the arm chair and untying his robe, he stared you down.

“Strip.” 

You only had your bra and shirt still on but shyly slipped out of them. His eyes ravaged your figure, thirsty to have you at his mercy. His hand rubbed against his robe, ready for some release.

“Come here. You’re going to suck me off and make me feel good” 

Shoto gestured for you to sit at his feet, to which you followed. Your ass sat back on your heels, still tender and red. Looking up at him, you reached for his cock. He grabbed your wrist and threw it back. 

“No hands, use your teeth.”

With that, you glided your teeth over his robe and gently unwrapped it from his body. His dick revealed itself to you and you licked at it before Shoto grew impatient. 

“Stop with the teasing” he hissed and pushed you down. If there was something you were an absolute beast at, it was giving head. Shoto knew it too. He knew you were capable of taking his length expertly. As you sank down on him, he threw his head back with a deep moan.

“Fuuuck Y/N, you know how to please Daddy. What a good girl”

His praises made you melt as you responded with sloppy gags as your eyes rolled up to look at him. He was barely holding on, you could see it in his expression. Turned on by your gaze, he wrapped his hands around your head and forced you down. You stayed there until you sputtered and your throat burned, leading you to pinching his thigh twice- the signal you used for when you couldn’t take it. He pulled you off sharply, briefly scanning you for any real distress. Despite having an actual dark side, even in the bedroom, Shoto would never take it too far, so long as you permitted it. He opted to teach you lessons when needed, but would never fully want to break you.

You looked up at him- mascara running and saliva smeared on your chin and smirked. “Done already?” you teased. Taking this as an indication that you were fine, his expression flickered back to his dominant demeanor. “As if,” he scuffed. “I’m far from done with your bratty ass.”

Thrusting his dick back in your mouth, your breath hitched in surprise. Shoto was now frowning down on you, watching you bob up and down. “Fuck babe, I’m gonna cum” he exhaled out. You closed your eyes and prepared yourself, all while he repeatedly hit the back of your throat.

He groaned as he released and you felt the warmth seep on your tongue. “Hold it, don’t swallow,” Shoto ordered. You froze in surprise, never being told to do this before. As his cum shot into your mouth, the taste was too strong, you gulped it down before even giving his request a second thought.

“Did you just swallow it?” Shoto looked down, obviously disappointed. “You’re such a fucking slut you couldn’t even wait to drink my cum couldn’t you?”

He brought his thumb to lift your face to meet his. “And here I thought you were starting to learn. But you’re still a bad girl, Y/N....sooo bad”

You shivered in his touch. Fuck. You didn’t mean to swallow. You had already dropped the brattiness in hopes of getting properly fucked after your spanking, but now you dug yourself a deeper hole.

Shoto lifted you and pushed you on the bed, where you fell face first into the pillows. 

“Get your fucking ass up in the air” he mumbled, as he hitched your hips up roughly. You stayed on your forearms, waiting in your vulnerable position for whatever he had in store. He slid off the bed to the headboard, where he had attachments for cuffs you two used every now and then.

“Hands.”

 You offered him your wrists, watching as he cuffed them straight above you. You laid on your stomach with your hands attached to the bed, your ass up and out before him. Shoto moved to examine your perfectly posed frame, all for him. You were a blank canvas for him to mark as he pleased.

You winced as he dragged his hand on your sensitive ass, his fingers slipping ever so lightly over your folds, making you lighthead. “Shoto please, I didn’t mean it. I just wanted to be a good girl, please”

Your reasoning did nothing to offset the mans intentions. “Oh princess, you’ll be a good girl by the time I’m done with you” he calmly said, moving his face to be at face level with your slit. Without warning, he brought his tongue to your entrance and began violently lapping streaks up and down. You squealed. Both of you had oral game that was out of this world. Your mind swirled as he continued to devour you, his thumb reaching around to rub your clit. You felt a tingling creeping up and with that, you started to mewl Shoto’s name. He pinched your clit roughly and muttered through eating you out “uh uh, that’s not my name”

The added vibrations of his voice against your most sensitive parts made you cry out. “Daddy! I’m gonna cum” With that, he took it away. His tongues, his fingers, everything- gone. Frustration built up in your chest as you tried to grind back against something….anything. 

Shoto let out a menacing chuckle. “Baby, you aren’t going to cum until I say you can, understand?”

You grit your teeth and nod. Of course.  

“Look at you. Fucking dripping like a whore. Your pussy is just waiting to be filled, isn’t that right?”

Still caught up in your lost orgasm, you weren’t paying attention. That is until an icy hand wrapped around your throat, jerking you up and arching your back against his chest.

“Answer me,” he growled softly in your ear.

“Y-yes daddy. I want to be filled by your cock”

Shoto sighed in approval and reached up to adjust the cuffs, directing you to lay on your back. You wiggled under him and watched him ready himself. Pushing the hair away from your face, he leaned down to his your temple and whispered “You ready for Daddy to fuck you into your place, princess?”

You nodded slowly, now under his spell, fully submissive….straight up putty in his hands.

He lined himself up with you and slowly inched inside, carefully watching as your face contorted. He bottomed out and fell forward, only stopping for a few seconds to let your adjust before he began his pace. It was brutal. He took his length out before slamming it all in, forcing your breath to be stuck in your throat.

 “Daddy- unf..harder..please”

Shoto smirked and leaned back, placing your legs on his shoulders. He continued to drill into you, your hands growing sore off the cuffs as you were rocked up and down. You didn’t care. The insane pleasure outweighed the pain.

“Look at me”

Your half lidded eyes sprung open to stare into Shoto’s, full of lust. He smiled at your mangled expression.

“Looks like my pretty little princess has been broken. Tell me, did you learn your lesson?”

“MMhmmm” you can barely draw out any words as you nod fervently, as he went deeper into you.

Shoto slowed down temporarily to reach over to the dresser to grab a small bullet vibrator.

Oh no. You thought. You knew how one of Shoto’s favorite punishments were edging and overstimulation. You had hoped he forgot but then again, when did he ever.

Placing the vibrator on your clit, Shoto flipped it on, drawing an immediate cry from you. Your cuff hands yanked against their restraints to no avail. You tried squeezing your legs closed, only to be met by his hand roughly pushing it back open.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing? Stay put, you’re taking this punishment.”

You looked at him with pleading eyes. You knew this was going to push you over. He hiked it up to the highest setting and you turned your head to bite in your arm to suppress your screams. Between his cock rutting in and out of you at an unforgiving speed and the vibrations, you weren’t sure how much more you could take. You began to see stars.

“Don’t you dare cum. Hold it.”

“I can’t! It’s too much” you cried, tears spilling over as you whined, begging your husband to take it easy.

“You wanted to be a brat today, you can take it. You won’t cum until I tell you to”

His words made you heave in frustration. How the hell were you going to hold out?

Suddenly, the vibrator turned off, his dick left you, but his head dipped down quickly. Pretty soon, three fingers were pumping in and out as you continued to feel your orgasm approaching. Shoto licked and sucked your clit, knowing you were on the edge. He softly bit at it, which made your hips rise off the bed and plead for your release.

“Please daddy! I can’t anymore, I have to cum”

He watched you writhe, not saying anything and his lack of response made you question whether it wad okay to let go. He was teasing you. Shoto continued slamming his fingers into your g-spot as he looked up.

“Cum, Y/N. Cum all over my fingers”

Not even a second after you heard his permission, your orgasm hit you hard as you came undone on his hand. Looking satisfied he retracted his hand from your pussy. Moving up, he thrust his cock back into you. Eyes shooting open, you stifle a scream as he plowed your now overly sensitive cunt.

“Ahhh~ I can’t again, its too sensitive Sho, not so fast”

“I haven’t came yet angel, don’t be fucking selfish” he growled as he chased his high. Holding your hips down into the bed, you felt his quirk lightly activate, as your left hip started to freeze and your right was heating up. Tears streamed as you silently screamed, overly stimulated to the point where your voice was knocked out of you. Shoto grunted, falling on top of you, as he reached his peak.

 Sighing into your neck, he collapsed beside you. Reaching up, he unfastened you from the headboard and you brought your hands down to massage them. Just as fast as your little session had manifested, the dark glow was gone from Shoto. He lightly kissed your slightly bruised wrists. “Sorry,” he looked up with a soft face. You returned a small smile to him.

“You’re such a good girl, Y/N. I love you” he smirked before getting up to get a glass of water. You sighed. There was just something about him you could never get enough of.

[clanoffetts]

Tales From Bespin, vol. I: The First Time

Lando Calrissian x fem!Reader

summary: the first in a collection of stories about Reader and Lando’s adventures in sex in Cloud City, starting with their first time together.

warnings/tags: 18+; not proof-read lol; piv; unprotected sex; tooth rotting sweet sex; lando is a fuckboy but, like, a nice one; puthy eating bc Lando is a man of taste; porn with like some plot but it’s, like, stupid plot. no seriously i don’t really remember much of the plot

word count: 3.5k

“Do your rooms still suit you?” Lando asks as you eat breakfast together. He’s asked this every morning since you arrived a week ago. In that week, you’d learned that Cloud City was gorgeous in the morning and that Lando Calrissian was very concerned with your happiness. You were glad, of course, as you’d come to Bespin on his request, the both of you hoping that something more would develop.

You nod. “Of course,” you say. “I feel like a princess.”

“Good,” he chuckles. “It’s what you deserve.” Something had begun to develop, you ate meals together, walked the city together, watched holos together. But at the end of the evening, you’d leave his rooms, and you’d assumed you were replaced with someone who would, frankly, fuck him. You knew Lando was a bit of a playboy, talk of Cloud City orgies was common legend amongst teenagers in the Outer Rim, and you usually didn’t go for playboys. But he was charming. Yeah, all playboys are, they have to be, but Lando was different. You could tell he was sincere. 

So, when his two week stay on Naboo was coming to a close, he’d invited you to Cloud City to live with him, and that you could continue your clothing designer dreams on Bespin with high fashion.

“They love your dresses,” Lando says, taking a drink of some kind of juice. 

You smile. They didn’t have much high fashion on Bespin, most of the population weren’t concerned with expensive clothes and the rest were rich with nothing to buy. “I’m glad. Thank you for helping me sell them, helping me build my reputation.”

“I told you that you need to stop thanking me, beautiful,” he says, voice smooth as always. “A new episode of that holoseries we binged comes out tonight.”

“Yeah I saw,” you say. “We’re watching it together, right?”

He smiles as he cuts up some of the meat on his plate. “Always, sweetheart.”

-

Lando had a busy day. Usually, you’d walk the halls, Lando telling you stories of the art on the walls and how they came to be in his possession or attend a water opera, but today there was none of that. So you sat in your rooms, a little cozier now than when you arrived. You’d decorated the walls with tapestries and art, adding some color to the tradition Bespin sleek white walls. Your furniture was all white and so were the blankets and pillows. You’d have to sew and embroider some new ones at some point, the plainness of it all was boring. Especially to someone from Naboo, where everything was vibrant and richly embroidered. 

You lay on your bed, staring up at the blank white ceiling, thinking about Lando. There were many women about the place, scantily clad Twi’leks, humans, and Togrutas, and you knew why they were here. You didn’t feel jealous, per se, because you knew your thing with Lando, whatever it was, was not an exclusive relationship. But you did feel a bit surprised that he’d invite you here on the hope of something more, and continue with his habits. 

Did you actually know Lando was sleeping with these women? Well, no, but one could safely assume, right? Especially if you weren’t putting out like women were expected to, though Lando never gave any indication that he was upset by the lack of sex. Maybe you were upset with the lack of sex, pent up and yearning for this man since he arrived on Naboo a month ago. Maybe you were going to change that.

-

“Ready, sweetheart?” Lando says, sitting down on one of the lush couches of the front room of his chambers. The furniture in here had dark wood from Kashyyk, a gift from one of Lando’s Wookie friends, he’d said. There were pillows in styles from all over the galaxy. The room was eclectically Lando: rich in more than one sense. 

He’d brought snacks with him, sitting them down on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Born ready,” you tell him. Under your clothes were the sexiest things you owned. Maybe it was a bit sad that the sexiest thing you owned was just a matching black bra and panties, but you didn’t really have a need for lingerie. Matching was the best you could do. 

The holodrama premier episode is one and a half hours, and over that course of time you’d eaten more types of candy than you can count, and inched closer to Lando until you were almost on top of him. He had an arm around you, your head resting on his chest. When the commercials for new bacta patches or some kind of Imperial propaganda interrupted the show, you’d tilt your head up to look at him, he’d tilt his down, and you’d kiss. Each kiss tasting a little different than the one before as fruity candies passed between both of your lips. 

“You like the blue ones,” you say as you break the kiss before the commercials are over. 

“And why do you say that?”

“Your lips have tasted like the blue ones more than any other,” you say, your tone very matter-of-fact. 

He chuckles. “Very astute observation, sweetheart. Though I can’t say I was too focused on your taste,” he says. “I paid more attention to the feel.”

You sit up a little more now, pressing your lips to his again, not giving a damn that the show was back on. 

“Very eager, sweetheart,” Lando murmurs, his lips traveling from your lips, down your jaw, to your neck. 

“I could say the same,” you whisper as he presses kisses to your neck, trying to find your sweet spot. This has been a long time coming. You feel his soft hair against you, lost in the feel and the scent that when his lips finally find that spot that makes you gasp, it catches you off guard. 

Lando notices, and says, “Can I mark you up, beautiful?”

“Please,” you’re breathless, at his politeness, at his pet name, at everything he is. 

He sucks a mark onto your skin, teeth coming after to give light bites to the forming bruise. “So polite,” he says. “I like manners.” You giggle a little, but are quickly cut off by his lips back on yours. Lando kisses sweetly, just how you expected him to. He’s not rough, he’s not hard, but he’s soft and sweet and passionate. That man oozes passion, especially right now. 

Your body is hyper aware of everything, his mustache brushing against your upper lip, the feel of the cape lined in shimmersilk brushing your arms as his arms wrap around you. You moaned into his mouth, and you felt him smile into the kiss. Lando was always a smug motherfucker. 

He pulls away from the kiss, hands wandering to the straps of the loose sundress you wore. “Can I?” You nod, and he pulls the straps down, freeing your breasts. “So gorgeous, sweetheart.” His head lowers onto your nipple, gently sucking and swirling, taking note of everything that made you writhe. His hand cups the other breast, kneading gently, thumb occasionally swiping over your nipple. Everything was so slow, he was such a tease, and it was obvious that Lando Calrissian knew what he was doing.

“We’ve never done this before,” he says, pulling off of your breast. “Do you want this?”

“Can I ask you something first?” He nods. You’re nervous, but you ask, “I know this might not be the right time to ask, but have you been sleeping with other people while I’m here?” You cursed yourself as soon as you said it. You weren’t his girlfriend, you had no right to know this, and yet you needed to know. To know that he was in this, for real.

“No, darling,” he says. “I’m pursuing something serious, if that’s what you want.”

Your body relaxed, and you’re positive that Lando could tell. “Yeah, yeah I do want that,” you say. “Now fuck me, please.”

“So very polite,” he comments, bringing his mouth to your other nipple. This time there’s a little teeth, but he’s still painstakingly slow. “You want to go to the bed?”

You nod, and he’s already up, taking your hand in his and leading you further into his rooms. You notice the bulge straining against his expertly tailored pants, and he notices you staring. “Manners starting to slip, sweetheart? It’s not polite to stare.”

You shake your head, face beginning to heat up as it dons on you that not only are you staring at his bulge, you’re also walking around with your tits out. “Don’t get shy, now, sweetheart,” he commands with a gentle tone as he leads you to the bed. 

The bed is massive, with large fluffy pillows and nice fuzzy blankets strewn over it. “Maker, Lando, this is huge.”

“The size of this bed is where the Bespin orgy stories come from, my dear,” he winks. “Though this isn’t where they happen.” He drops your hand so you can hoist yourself up onto the large bed, and he follows suit, though he’s a lot more graceful. 

“Now,” he says, gently pushing you to recline against the pillows. “Where were we?” He lays down next to you, attaching his mouth to the side of your breast, sucking harshly. Another bruise would form there, and your core ached at the thought of getting to admire them the next morning in the ‘fresher mirror. 

Your whimpers seem to echo in the big room, and Lando loves it. “Let me hear you,” he murmurs against your stomach before sucking another bruise. “Love to hear you.”

And, boy, do you let him hear it. So used to muffling your own noises in places with thin walls, it was a strange freedom to be as loud as you want. “Can I take this off, sweetheart?”

His hands are balled up on the dress. “Fuck, yes, please,” you tell him, eager for him to get closer to your cunt, to give you the direct stimulation he’s made you crave. He pulls the dress down your body and off your legs, tossing it to the other side of the bed. He unclasps the cape and removes his shirt, tossing them as well. And, kriff, he’s gorgeous. He’s toned, but not overly muscular in the way you find scary. His skin looks smooth, though covered in hair, and you reach a hand out to drag across his stomach. 

You expect him to ask to take your panties off next, but he doesn’t. “I bet your pussy is pretty, sweetheart. Everything about you is pretty,” he says, one hand cupping your cunt, the warmth burning through the thin fabric, and the other stilling your hand on his abdomen. All you can do is whine a little, the light pressure on your pussy making you ache even more. 

Lando leans down to kiss you, pressing his blue-flavored candy lips against yours and returning your hand to the mattress. When he pulls away, he lowers himself down between your legs, eye-level with your cunt. “Open these up more,” he coos, pushing your legs open and up towards your chest. 

He places a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your clothed cunt, giving a deep chuckle when you gasp. “She’s already swollen, sweetheart,” he says. “I’ve not even done much. Just sucked your tits.”

“Yeah, but you did that for, like, ever,” you breath out, and he laughs. 

“I like to tease my girl,” he says before bringing his lips down over the fabric again. But you can’t focus completely on that right now, not when your mind is repeating his voice calling you his girl. But eventually you snap out of it when his mouth is replaced with his fingers, running over the fabric of your panties, there’s enough friction to tease you but not enough to truly please you.

“I think it’s time I see this pussy,” he says, placing some kisses on your thighs. “Don’t you think so, sweetheart?”

You whine out a yes, and he makes quick work of removing your underwear. The cool air of the room hits your slick as Lando returns your legs to their open position. “Just like I thought- gorgeous pussy” he says, using a finger to collect your arousal, bringing it to his mouth and closing his eyes as he cleans his finger. “Taste better than the blue candy, sweetheart. I think I need another taste, don’t you?”

You nod, and before you can even utter a ‘please’, his mouth is on you. “Stars, Lando,” you whimper as he sucks on your clit. His tongue is swirling around in patterns that made your whole body shiver, his hands are on your tits and stomach, groping at any soft flesh he could grasp. Everytime you whine out a word, he hums around your clit, sending a wave of vibration straight to your core. 

“And to think I’ve traveled to a hundred confectionery shops when the sweetest candy in the galaxy is right here,” he says, pulling your lips further apart so he could admire his candy. With a growl, he dives back in, this time at your hole, letting his nose take care of your clit for now. His tongue pushes inside you with force, Lando eagerly lapping up your juices, your moans escaping in unison with his. 

When he decides his nose occasionally bumping your clit isn’t enough and replaces it with his fingers, rubbing small circles, you feel the wave of your orgasm start to roll in. “Gonna come, Lando, fuck-”

He hums, low and gravely against your cunt, and it pushes you over the edge. You’re loud, moaning and writhing under him, but his mouth stays attached to your slit with determination, following your hips wherever they go. Lando does this until your body stops shivering and you’re left with labored breathing on the bed in a mess of pillows. 

“Stars, Lando, you’re good at that,” you giggle as he climbs up your body to press a kiss to your forehead, nose, lips. You taste yourself on him, not something you’d describe as the best candy in the galaxy, but you could see where he was coming from. 

“Glad you liked it, sweetheart,” he replies. “I’m a people pleaser at heart.” Your hands wander down to the buckle of his belt, trying to undo it but the clasp is foreign and your mind is cloudy. Lando sits back on his haunches between your legs, undoing the clasp and freeing his cock from his pants. Lando Calrissian didn’t wear underwear, apparently. “Is this what you wanted, beautiful?” 

You nod frantically, the voice in the back of your head telling you you looked pathetically horny, but you couldn’t care. “Please, Lando,” you whine. “Want you inside me.”

“Stars, sweetheart, I’ve wanted this since back on Naboo,” he says, shedding his pants and adding them to the stack of clothes accumulating on the side of the bed. 

“Been so enamored by you for so long,” he sighs, lining his cock up with your entrance. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you beg, “Please.”

“There’s my girl, with her manners,” he groans as he pushes his cock inside you, ever so slowly. “Gotta savor your pussy, sweetheart. Been wanting it for so long.”

You moan as he bottoms out, “Wait, my implant expired, I’m sor-” 

He cuts you off, “I have one. Don’t you worry, sweetheart.” His voice is strained with pleasure as he drags his cock in and out of your aching core, you swear you can feel each vein against your walls. 

“Fuck, Lando, please,” you whine, wishing he’d give you a little more, even if it was just enough to come. 

He gives you that smug smile, “Please what?”

“Faster, Lando,” you whimper, bringing your legs around his waist in an effort to push him into you quicker.

He tuts. “Where’s your manners, sweet thing?”

“Please,” you beg. “Please, please, please.”

He kisses your nose. “Since you’re so polite, I think I might just have to oblige.” And he does. His hips don’t snap hard against you like the other guys you’d fucked, though they hadn’t been very good, maybe that was why. He wasn’t so hard like the holoporn videos or the stories you’d read on the ‘Net. But it’s so good. 

“How do you feel, sweetheart?” His voice is breathy now, though still deep. 

“Full,” you whine, and his fingers come to your clit, causing you to gasp and clench around him. “And stretched.”

His lips are painted with that smug smile again, “Just like you want, sweetheart. Just like you deserve.”

His voice deep in your ear, his cock deep in your cunt, and his fingers moving with grace across your clit just about send you to the edge again. “I think I’m gonna come Lando,” you moan, “Fuck I want to come, please!”

“Come, then, sweetheart,” He grunts. “I’ll always give you anything you want.” That was it, the final straw, and your body began to shiver and shake. Your arms clasped around him and your legs pushing him deep inside you, you come with such force that you can hardly make any noise. Your mouth is open, your eyes are wide, but there’s no sounds, just complete and utter bliss. “I’ll always give you what you want,” he pants again as you come down from your high, still relishing in his cock fucking you open.

“Then give me your cum,” you demand. 

There’s a twinkle in his eye now, “Your wish is my command,” he says. His thrusts are a little quicker now, though more shallow and sloppy, and you continue to moan his name and clench your walls around him until he’s grunting in your ear that, “I’m going to fill you up, sweetheart, just like you asked.” 

And he comes, also with force, losing control of his thrusts and your heels dig into his ass, holding him inside you as he paints your walls white. “Fuck, just what I wanted, Lando,” you coo, running a hand over his back as he lay on top of you trying to collect himself. “Treat me so well, like a princess.”

He gently pulls out, both of you wincing, and he rolls onto your side. You shift to face him, trying not to move too much so you don’t spill cum over what you assume are expensive blankets and bedding. 

“Spread your legs a little, sweetheart,” he says softly. You do as you're told, and he slips a finger between your legs, just outside your slit where he collects your mixed cum. He licks some, though not all, off his finger and hums. “Second sweetest candy in the galaxy. You want a taste?”

You nod, sticking your tongue out with an eagerness that should’ve been embarrassing. He holds his finger out and you lick it clean. “I think that’s the sweetest,” you say, savoring the strange yet satisfying taste. “But to each their own I guess.”

-

“Did you enjoy that?” Lando has you lying against his chest, now clad in one of his silk sleep shirts and he wears the matching pants. He’d cleaned you up nicely, brought some sweet Alderaanian toniray- a rare commodity these days- for you to sip on. 

You nod. “It was amazing. I’ve never come twice with someone before.”

He looks almost offended at your statement, “You’ve only been with guys that make you come once?”

“Sometimes not even once,” you admit. “That’s not normal?”

He shakes his head. “Kriff, no, sweetheart, you’re supposed to come. And the bare minimum is once in my book. In fact, I regret only making you come twice tonight. Got too caught up in my own pleasure.”

“Well, you’re supposed to feel good, too,” you point out. 

He nods. “Yes, but I should also make you feel good. I get off on making you feel good.” He’s shaking his head again. “Only come once,” he mutters. “Atrocious, dear, absolutely atrocious.”

You let out a sleepy giggle, drawing patterns with your nail on his chest. “Well you can make up for all those missed orgasms another time,” you say, finishing with a yawn. “You’ve worn me out, Calrissian.”

“As you should be, sweetheart,” he says. “Get some rest, yeah?”

You nod against his chest, the quiet darkness of the room and the beat of his heart already lulling you to sleep.

-

tagging those who showed some interest (i promise boba threesome is coming in the next few days, i’ve already written over half of it lol)! @delusionsxfgrandeur @fuckyeahbeskar @sleepwithacommunist @tibbietibbs @hansonveggieclub

[avintagekiss24]

heavy is the head that wears the crown; and the heart > bucky barnes

|| pairing: romanian!king!bucky barnes x black!queen!reader

|| word count: 3,273

|| warnings: language words

|| challenge: @marvelmaree‘s birthday challenge: royalty au + “i’ve dreamt about leaving so many times.” “that’s the problem with most people. they dream about what they want to do instead of really doing it.”

|| square filled: @star-spangled-bingo​ SSB2020 N1: modern royalty au

|| square filled: @buckybarnesbingo​ Y1: “i regret nothing.”

|| summary: there are many decisions to make as queen; some of the heart, some of the mind.

|| link: ao3

|| note: this is really late for maree’s birthday challenge! i’m so sorry babe, but i hope you like it! i hope it’s okay that i made it a modern royalty au instead of a traditional royalty au!

so, for this to make sense, we have to pretend that after the south seceded from the united states in 1860, they never rejoined the union and the civil war never happened. we also need to pretend that the united states had kings and queens instead of presidents, lol. we also have a cameo by a real life duke and duchess :) also, sis does not play in this.

hope you guys enjoy, and happy juneteenth!

You walk slowly through the trees, the tips of your fingers grazing over the bloomed flowers. The bottom of your dress is caked in dirt as it drags behind you, your black Converse shoes leaving soft imprints in the soft earth. You don’t care - you never have - but your mother surely will. Another dress ruined! My God, when are you going to learn some etiquette! You are thirty one years old, girl!  You smile and chuckle slightly as her words swirl through your head. Dinner will be fun tonight. 

You stop and bend slightly to pluck a rose from it’s bush. You bring it to your face and inhale deeply, letting the natural, earthy scent fill your nose. You close your eyes and hum a little as you exhale slowly, letting your eyes flutter back open. 

“I knew I’d find you out here.”

You laugh as his voice fills your ears. You don’t turn to face him. Instead, you do just the opposite. You turn away from him and keep on your leisurely stroll as you continue to sniff at your pretty red rose, “I’m not a hard person to figure out, Mr. Barnes.”

“That you’re not. That’s what I like about you.”

You scoff but laugh again, shaking your head softly. You take a few more steps before you shriek when two long arms wrap around your middle. He lifts you off your feet, twirling you around as you laugh wildly. He sits you back down, facing him this time, and crashes his lips to yours - stealing every ounce of breath out of your lungs. He squeezes you to him as you moan lightly and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Hi,” he says softly after he frees your lips.

You giggle as he rests his forehead to yours, his eyes still closed from the kiss, “Hi there,” you whisper, “You are awfully brave for pulling this little stunt with my mother being right inside.”

“I don’t care about your mother,” he shrugs, “Do you?”

You send your eyes towards the sky, pretending to give it some thought, “Not really, no.” 

He finally opens his eyes and they almost take your breath away. You’ve been staring into those blues since you were kids, but the deepness of them - the emotions that swirl in them at any given time - surprises you every time. You cup his cheek, a dark beard blooming across his skin and rub your thumb underneath his right eye as a dreamy smile covers your lips.

“You’re so pretty.” You say softly, watching as the smile broadens on his face.

You send your eyes down to his chest, finding him in a crisp white button up shirt and a black velvet sport coat and pants, complete with a pair of off white, studded loafers, “You broke out the Tom Ford just to see me?”

“Not this time, darling.” He smiles, throwing his arm over your shoulder as the two of you begin to walk again, “I had an engagement with Prince Harry and the Duchess Megan this afternoon.”

“Ah yes, I remember now. I was supposed to be there.” You laugh, shrugging. 

He laughs at your nonchalance, “You were certainly missed. To be perfectly honest though, Harry and I had bet going that you’d blow it off.”

You nod, shooting him a quick finger gun, “Both of you are very smart men.” You giggle, “It’s just one more thing for my mom to be mad at me about. Whatever, I’ll text Harry and Megan my apologies.”

The two of you walk slowly through the vast garden until you are no longer visible from the main house. You wave at the horse handlers as they work your champion thoroughbreds off in the distance. You swallow and let out a breath as your mind starts to wander again, your stomach twisting a little. 

“I’ve dreamt about leaving so many times.” You say softly, dropping your eyes to the rose still in your fingers. 

You hear Bucky sigh, “That’s the problem with most people. They dream about what they want to do instead of really doing it.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile cracks your face, “Don’t be a smart ass, Barnes.”

“I’m not,” he smiles, threading his fingers with yours, “I mean it. You can do whatever you want to do. You don’t have to marry him.” He stops moving as you continue to step ahead of him, your arms spreading out between the two of you as he continues to hold your hand, “Are you listening to me?”

“Yes.” You answer firmly, “I’m listening, I know.”

“You don’t love him.”

“I don’t. I love you.”

“Then marry me. Come back to Romania with me, be my queen.”

“And denounce my country? Just leave them behind with no heir? I can’t do that.”

“Your cousin could be Queen.”

“She’s an idiot!” You laugh, “We’d be in a world war within months.” You drop his hand and step away from him further, spinning on your heels suddenly to face him again, “You could move here.”

He nods slowly, “I could.”

You scoff, “Stop it.”

“I could - I would. If you really wanted me to.”

You shake your head, “You’re too idealistic.”

“And you’re too cynical.” He rebukes, keeping his gaze on you firmly, “We could make this work, you know we can.”

“How can you run a country if you’re thousands of miles away from it?” You sigh, “You’re a King, you need to be there.”

He scratches his head as he closes his left eye, tilting his head towards the sky, “Um, have you heard of the internet? FaceTime, email - Zoom - I hear that’s great.”

You roll your eyes again as you groan loudly, turning away from him. You slump your shoulders as you throw your head back , closing your eyes as the sun beats down on you. You wish this was easier. You wish you had the guts to tell your mother to just piss off so you could run off to Romania and spend the rest of your life in his arms, but then there’s the other side of your heart. Half of you doesn’t want to leave. You want to take your rightful throne. You want to be Queen. You’ve prepared for it your whole life, it’s your destiny - and you’d be good at it. 

How could Bucky not be a part of that destiny? That’s the real question you have. That’s what keeps you up at night these days as your calling draws nearer and nearer. He’d throw it all away for you, but you can’t do the same for him - and that makes you feel guilty; and sad.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” You ask, not turning around.

“That,” he says in a way that you know he’s smiling, “Don’t feel guilty.”

“How do you know I feel guilty? I’m just standing here.”

You hear his feet in the grass as he moves towards you, and then feel his warm breath on the back of your neck as he sweeps your braids over your shoulder, “Because I know you.” He whispers into your ear before he pushes away again, stepping out in front of you. 

You open your eyes and watch as he spins in the grass, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to give this up for me,” he continues, “It’s 2020, not 1940 - you don’t have to give up everything you’ve worked so hard for just for some dude.”

“I’m glad we agree on that.”

“Just,” his voice trails off as he takes a deep breath,  “Please don’t marry him.” He says gently, his voice barely above a whisper. 

The him he speaks of is Scott Lang, the appointed King of the South, né Atlanta. He’s a nice man; kind, funny, sweet - and he adores you, but he’s boring. He’s predictable, and your mother loves him. That alone makes you want to scream and run for the hills. It’s bigger than you though, the marriage. It’s not one out of convenience or even one bred from a matchmaker. Your marriage will unite the South back with the rest of the United States. Scott will ultimately relinquish his throne, and you’ll be the first Queen to reign over an intact America in over a hundred years. 

But that isn’t what you want - not with him.

Bucky is slightly irrational at times - incalculable almost every time. He has a subtle boldness that’s attracted you to him since you were kids. You remember it like it were yesterday, the first time the two of you met. The annual meeting of the Royal families, this time held in Britain. You were seven, Bucky was nine. Your fathers introduced the two of you in the middle of the great library, telling you both to run along, don’t make a mess. Without knowing each other for a full minute, he grabbed your hand and dragged you through the library, reaching out and tipping random books off the shelves as you ran between the aisles.

You loved him right then and there, and every minute since. 

“I’m not going to marry him,” you finally answer, “I just have to find the right time to tell them. There’s a lot riding on this.”

He nods slowly, “I know. The merger is… big.”

“I’ll make it happen.” You shrug, “I always do. The South was stupid to secede in the first place and now they’re reaping what they sowed. A few more years of this and they’ll be destitute, they know it.”

Silence drops over the two of you as you look at each other, just blinking randomly and breathing. He tilts his head and smiles at you slowly, watching you as your mind turns. He knows that in three months time, on your thirty second birthday, you’ll be made Queen. He knows you’re ready, he knows you’re capable; but he also knows you’re scared. Uncertain of what’s to come for yourself, your country; and for the two of you.

He holds out his hand to you, not saying a word, just extending it - waiting for you. You move forward without hesitation, sliding your hand into his and letting him press you to his chest. His large hands sweep around your sides and slide up and down your back as you wrap your arms around his middle. You flatten your hands on his broad back and nuzzle into his sport coat, shielding your face from everything and everyone. You close your eyes when he runs his hand over your hair and presses kisses to the top of your head. 

“I’ll be right here,” he whispers softly, “I’ll always be here for you, sweet girl. No matter if you are mine or not. I promise you that.” 

“I know you will,” you sniffle as tears start to fall, “I want to be yours forever.”

He hugs you to him again, rocking your bodies back and forth softly, “Just say the word and I’ll pack my bags.” 

You squeeze him tighter.

You twist your hands within one another as you stand behind the two great doors. You can hear the muffled commencement speech taking place on the other side, people cheering and clapping. You swallow hard. You let out a focused breath through your teeth. You lower your head and unfold the balled up paper in your hands. 

I love you. Always.

Bucky

It’s simple - not even on his official letterhead. It’s just a blank sheet of paper confessing his adoration of and for you. You take another breath and force it out between your teeth as you ball it up again and lift your head. You run your gloved hands down your red and gold military jacket, rolling your shoulders before craning your head back and forth. Your medals clink softly from the disturbance of them, but to you, the sound is deafening as everything else blurs into the background. The doors open and the military men and women before you begin their procession into the Great Hall. 

Time to go.

Trumpets start to sound when you make your entrance into the room. Tv cameras zoom in on you as the audience in attendance stand to their feet. You focus forward as you move, painfully aware of all the eyes on you. The room is full of Royal families from all over the world, the press, and your extended family - all ready to watch the transfer of power. You blink, diverting your eyes quickly to your left, catching a quick smile and a secret wave from the Duchess of Sussex. The Duke of Sussex tips his head towards you and you return the gesture, winking playfully at Megan as she bounces baby Archie in her hands. 

You blink again and there they are; those ice blue eyes. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, dressed in his military uniform. A white satin embroidered jacket, complete with the numerous gold medals he’s earned along the way. A white and gold sash crosses over his chest as the artificial lights glint off of the gold and silver pins and buttons littered across his jacket. 

His hair is trimmed - shorter than you like it, to be frank - his dark beard neatly manicured. He’s a sight - a vision, and if you had any doubt at all, it’s all thrown out the window now. Just with a glance of him. 

You walk to the steps where your parents stand, a diamond encrusted crown in your mother’s hands. You kneel on the small red pillow on the top step and drop your head as the speaker begins again. 

“Here, on the first of July, in the year twenty twenty and on her thirty second birthday, we honor the change of power from Queen Johana to its rightful heir, her only daughter, our royal Princess. Queen Johana, please remove the Princess tiara and replace it with the crown.”

Your mother bends, plucking the precious tiara you’ve adorned for so long from your head. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing as the official crown, her crown, is rested atop your head. She slips her index finger to your chin and lifts your head so your eyes can meet hers for the first time as Queen. You note the water that builds in her eyes as she smiles at you. You smile back, knowing in the depths of your heart that no matter how much the two of you fight, no matter how different your politics are - you are her only daughter - and her love for you knows no bounds. 

“I’m so proud of you.” She whispers.

“Thank you, mama.” 

When your mother stands again, the speaker announces, “Queen, please rise and address your court.” 

You stand and turn, holding your head high as the room erupts with claps and cheers. Your parents step into the background as you nod and wave, mouthing your thank you’s before you cross your arm over your chest to cover your heart with your hand. Picture cameras click loudly in every direction as the television crews zoom in on you again.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the speaker announces, “Your Queen.”

“I have something I want to say, if that’s okay.” You say, turning towards the commencement speaker. 

You move to the podium and clear your throat, waiting for the applause to die down before you start to speak, “I know this is unconventional to address you this quickly, but you all have always known me to be this way, and I do not intend to change. I am very proud and humble to be named your Queen today. This is a long time coming and I thank each and every citizen for supporting me up to this point and beyond.”

You take another breath, “As you know, I am to marry the King of Atlanta, Scott Lang, to unify this great United States of America again at the end of this month.” You lift your eyes and stare straight into the television cameras in front of you, “I have no intention of going through with the marriage.”

Gasps of shock ring through the room, the loudest coming from your mother. You throw your eyes over to Bucky as he blinks back at you, his lips parted, his face flushing red at your impromptu announcement. He runs his hand through his hair in complete disbelief and shrugs at you as he shakes his head, mouthing what are you doing? at you.

You smile, “The King of Romania, James Buchanan Barnes, and I are in love, and have been since we were children. I plan, if he’ll still have me, to marry him on the twenty fifth of July, here in New York. On the twenty sixth of July, I will issue an executive order demanding that the South rejoin the United States within thirty days, and that all members of their parliament dissolve immediately. King Lang will be acclimated into my court and will serve as an advisor to help oversee this merger. If there is any resistance, or the order is not signed by the end of the thirty days, I will have no choice but to find the South and Mr. Lang, guilty of treason, and will send in our military to take control.” 

“I realize this sounds harsh, but I’m giving plenty of time for both regimes to come together and iron this out peacefully. But I must warn, do not take my kindness or my generous time frame as weakness. If I have to take control the hard way, I will. We are only strong when we are together, and I fully intend to right the wrongs of the decisions made before me.” 

You glance to your right, finding Scott’s dark eyes on you, his mouth set in a hard line as anger washes through him, “I am not my mother,” you begin again, speaking directly to him, “I am not my grandmother, or any woman who has come before them. I will not let the South perish because of stubborn minds and brash, pompous attitudes. I will not continue to turn a blind eye to this situation, but I’ll need your help, Mr. Lang, to make this as easy as possible.” He takes a breath and lowers his gaze from yours, already realizing just who he is up against, “Please, do what is best for all of us.”

You turn, facing your parents, “If I learned anything from my parents, it’s to stand up for what I believe in. I believe in love. I believe in peace. I want to thank you all again, and please know that I look forward to serving you and this great country of ours. Thank you.”

Without another word, you step away from the podium and move down the steps as the room goes haywire, every media outlet shouting and screaming questions at you. You stop in front of Bucky, extending your gloved hand to his. He takes it without hesitation, without fear, and hand in hand, the two of you walk down the center aisle as all hell breaks loose around you.

“It’s been all of five seconds, do you regret this yet?” You ask, laughing a little as cameramen scramble to get pictures of the two of you.

“You know me, babe,” he says easily, shrugging as the two of you push through the doors, “I regret nothing.” 

Neither do you.

“Oh, hey!” You smile, “I forgot to ask you, will you marry me in like three weeks?”

He throws his head back, laughing, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

[lilred8220]

Well, yet another fic no one asked for😃

I wanted to write this because some time go, I was watching the fireworks when this song started to play↓↓↓

And I just thought how romantic it would be if I wasn't forever alone 🙃 so, I build a story around that. I hope you enjoy it!

P.s. This is a F!MC

--

I had been so excited for this day! In the human realm, my hometown this time of year had a huge festival ending with a huge firework show. I had asked to go a week in advance but due to being in the Devildom for the exchange program, I couldn't go. It definitely was a disappointment. However Diavolo, seeing me upset and now curious about the tradition, asked all about it and he thought it sounded fun. Thanks to him always wanting to do anything new, he immediately decided to do the same here in the Devildom.

So through the long week, he asked about everything we would do at the event to make it much more fun and quickly get everything ready to make this last second festival. It somehow all came together and it feels almost exactly like the festival from the human realm. The food, sweets and all! Now it was the time to enjoy the festival!

The brothers couldn't understand why I was so excited for this. Though we all went to festivals and saw fireworks, It was just something that I would always look forward to this time of the year and it's just more special this time around. It kinda feels as if I'm sharing something that I love with everyone I care about in a place where I like to call my new home. Hopefully they'll come to enjoy this as much as I do.

"So, this is called an Elephant ear?“ Beel asked, drooling at the large fried sweet in front of him.

I laugh, as I grab a piece before he can scarf the treat whole, "Yeah, it's just fried dough with powdered sugar on it. They usually sell these at any carnival or festival." I pop the elephant ear in my mouth, savoring the amazing taste.

The brothers each had something to eat as we took a break from all the festival games littered around. We all take two picnic benches for the 8 of us, well, us and Beel's giant pile of food he got. Everyone had won something from the games…well everyone but me and Mammon. Mammon was determined to win a game, yet his luck seemed to be the worse for wear today and all the games we'd gone to all ended up with one of the other brothers winning the game. My luck honestly wasn't any better due to playing the same games that the others had won.

"I'm telling ya! Those games are rigged! The people runnin 'em are just a bunch of con artists!“ Mammon yells, clearly frustrated that he hasn't gotten anything.

"Or maybe you just suck lol" Levi says, holding a Ruri-chan plush to his chest.

"Honestly, you really shouldn't be surprised, you were pretty terrible at all those games since you had no choice but to play fair." Satan adds on, which all the brothers nod in agreement.

Asmo laughs, "Well, what do you expect from a scumbag?"

I start to get annoyed as the brothers all start to bash on Mammon. He seems fine on the surface but I've been around him long enough, with him basically living in my room and all, to see all his little ticks. Like when he's excited, his hand gestures are more dramatic, to emphasize his point or how his eyes light up when something catches his attention, like something to make a quick buck. However, right now, with the way his mouth slightly twitches and his hand shoved into his pockets, he's upset. He really only does this when the brothers throw insult after insult at him, like right now.

I sigh as they continue their assault on him. But an idea comes to mind and it'll be easy enough to pull off.

"Does...that all that stuff apply to me too? Since I didn't win anything either, after all..." I say, putting on my best pouting face and looking down at the ground.

Immediately, the brothers started to panic, trying to reassure me that it wasn't true, successfully drawing their attention away from Mammon. I slightly looked up, passed the frantic brothers to lock eyes with Mammon. He stood there for a moment, a bit confused by my sudden comment. I flash him a quick smirk before looking up at the brothers, accepting their apologies. The brothers seemed to relax and drop the topic after that, returning to the food they have. Mammon, who had seemingly understood what my intentions really were, looked at me, with his face slightly flushed, then stared down at his food.

In Mammon's mind, he honestly doesn't know what force sent Y/N here but, she is honestly the best thing that has ever happened to him. At first, he hated the idea of being her guardian due to all of the extra work he was given. But, as days turned to weeks, her treatment towards him was nothing but sweet and loving. It honestly was a huge adjustment for him, since everyone treated him like scum or useless, having her place so much faith in him, even defending him and doing little gestures like this, it makes his head spin. He honestly couldn't pinpoint when it happened, but, his feelings for her drastically changed, he couldn't deny it now, how he longed for her, wanted her all to himself. How he loved her unconditionally.

I smile, quickly finish eating my food then stand up, "Ok! Time to get back to the games!“ I say, excitedly.

"Y/N, I'm glad you are excited but some of us still need to eat." Lucifer says, glancing at Beel and his mountain of food.

"Awww, come on Lucifer, I wanna try to win something before the fireworks start." I plop down again, putting my chin in my hands.

"Well, I'm sure we'll have plenty of time." Lucifer tries to cheer me up, eating some fries.

Mammon looks up at Y/N, upon seeing her upset. He honestly hated seeing Y/N upset, even if for something so small as to wait for everyone to finish eating. He wanted nothing more than to see her smile everyday, it honestly was one of his favorite parts of the day to see her smile so sweetly. He'll do anything to make her happy. He sits up and scarfs down his food before standing up. "Ok, how 'bout this,' ' Mammon gets up and walks over to me, ' ' since I haven't won anythin', I'm gonna go play some more games and I'll meet ya guys later. Y/N, ya can come if ya want to." Mammon starts to walk away, at a slower pace than he usually would.

"Yeah! Ok!" Before any of the other brothers could protest, I quickly got up and hurried over to Mammon. I can hear the brothers stumbling to get up to follow us.

"Hey! Mammon is stealing Y/N!"

"That's not fair!“

"That scumbag..."

I hear some of the things they're saying as they seem to be trying to catch up.

I grab Mammon's hand and start to make a run for it. "Come on!" I glanced back at Mammon, who seemed shocked. He looks back to see the brothers in hot pursuit of us. Getting the hint, Mammon picks up the pace. We high tail it out of there, laughing like a bunch of kids all the while.

--

Me and Mammon finally stop and I flop on the floor, trying to catch my breath as Mammon puts his hands on his knees.

"I…I think we lost 'em" Mammon pants, out of breath from running around.

"I…I think so…jeez, how…how do you always do this when you get in trouble?“ I wheeze out, my human body not used to running as much as a demon. Especially if that demon is Mammon.

Mammon straightens up, finally catching his breath, "Well, I'm not usually running from ALL of my brothers, just Lucifer mostly."

Mammon reaches his hand to me and after a moment, I let him help me up. He helps me to my feet and when I look up, his face is very close to mine. We stare at each other for a moment before both of our faces turn more flushed than we already were.

His bright blue eyes that have a hint of that golden yellow has me in a trance. When I first met Mammon, it was the first thing that drew my attention, it's honestly something that I always find myself staring at all of the time. They are very beautiful to me and never fail to make me feel relaxed when I see them. But not only that, he is a very handsome man. His rich caramel skin with his pure white hair makes his face stand out even more. He is just so captivating to look at, however his personality is what truly makes him shine. Even if he tries, and fails, to hide his true feelings, he always has his heart on his sleeve, rather if he realizes that or not. He tries so hard to help me or to even make my day brighter when I'm not feeling my best. He even tries to protect his brothers and is always there for them. He honestly is the most caring person I've ever met and I can't help but fall for him because of that.

Mammon looked down at her face, he honestly couldn't help but stare. In his mind, she was more beautiful than anyone he's ever seen. Her beauty not only stopped at her looks but the person she was. She was a true wonder to him, too good to be true yet, here she was, defying all logic. All he wanted to do was look at every detail of her face, her eyes as they shine, her soft skin as the blush covers her face, her parted lips as her breath finally slows down. Mammon was the first to turn away, catching himself now staring at nothing but her lips.

He clears his throat. "W-Well since we're here, let's get to some games!" Mammon says, his fangs flash with his grin.

We made our way to the nearest game booth, both of us looking at the various prizes. The booth in question is a simple ring toss, the bottles are organized by colors which show what size prize you can get. There are the ridiculously large stuffed bears that are taller than me to the very small animal plushies. Scanning all the prizes, one catches my attention, a black plush crow with a yellow tag on it. It was big enough to hold in your arms, it's wings dangled at its sides. It had its beak opened slightly to look like a smile. I glance over at Mammon, who is currently eyeing a plushie of a grimm, that also has a yellow tag hanging off of it. I laugh, thinking of how that plush crow reminded me of him.

Mammon looks at me, slightly confused, "What are ya laughing at?"

"Oh nothing, though I know what prize I want." I smile, looking back at the crow plush.

Mammon follows my eyes over to the plush, he tilts his head at my choice, "Ya sure that's what ya want? There are plenty of things better than that ol' crow."

I nod enthusiastically, "Yeah, I think it's cute, like someone else I know." I playfully push him.

His ears turn a dark red but he laughs, "Well, I know what I want so, let's go and win some prizes!“

We pay the demon running the game and start trying to make the rings reach its mark. However, as in most carnaval games, the rings in question are only slightly bigger than the top of the bottles, making it much harder to win. Not to mention the bottles for the better prizes are further back, making it much harder. As we try a couple times, we don't get much luck and we're running out of grimms to play. However as we reach our last game, even though I end up with nothing, Mammon manages to sink a ring on a yellow bottle.

"We have a winner!“ the demon behind the booth says, walking over to grab the ring.

"Yeah! This was nothin' for the Great Mammon!" Mammon threw his hands in the air, and I cheered with him, "You did it! You won!“

The demon walks back over to us, "Alrighty, you can pick a prize with a yellow tag. Which will it be?"

Mammon's eyes flick to the plush he was eyeing earlier and he goes to speak, but an announcement rings through the speakers all around the festival, "The firework show will be starting in 15 minutes, marking the end of the festival! So hurry and grab a seat to enjoy the show!“ a cheery voice says before the music from before starts to play again. Mammon looks down at me for a moment before a small smile appears on his face.

Mammon looks at the demon and points at the plush crow, "I'll take that one."

I look up at Mammon, "But, I thought you wanted-“ I get cut off by the demon swift return, "Here you go." The demon hands him the crow plush.

Mammon takes the plush from the demon with his usual bright smile and starts walking off, I quickly follow, still confused. Once I catch up, he looks at me with a blush on his face and holds out the crow to me.

"W-well, there wasn't really anythin' I wanted, so I figured I'd get this ol' crow since ya seemed to want it so bad." He says with his usual bravado, yet it was a bit more shy than normal.

"But, you said…" I start to say as I take the plush but, cut my thought short.

Even though I know he wanted something, that much he's been saying all day, he still got me this crow plush. Knowing how he struggles to do these things and becoming a stuttering mess when it's pointed out, I choose to not question him. Yet, I can't help but love him even more, him knowing that I wanted something as well and that he'll be going back home later with nothing. I'll have to repay him later but for now, I'll just enjoy the rest of the festival with him.

I shake my head and give him a smile, one that shows how much I truly appreciate and love him, "Thank you so much, Mammon." I hold the crow close to myself.

Mammon feels all the air in his lungs escape him. Y/N's smile, the sparkle of joy and something more…intimate in her eyes. Honestly, for a split second, he found himself jealous of that crow, seeing Y/N holding it so lovingly. He wanted, no, needed to show her how much he loves her. If not tonight, it'll drive him insane.

--

After looking a bit, me and Mammon found a perfect spot to watch the fireworks. We sat on a hill that was a bit further away from the festival and luckily, we could still hear the music playing from one of the speakers nearby. We sat in a comfortable silence, waiting for the fireworks to begin. Which based on the amount of time it took to find this isolated spot, it should start at any moment.

Mammon is resting his arms on his knees as I sit with my legs crossed, the plush crow close to my chest. I watch all the demons in the distance hurrying to find a spot to watch the show as well. Thankfully, none of them seem to look in this direction. So right now, it's just us, alone.

After a few moments, Mammon looks over at me and shyly starts to speak, "H-hey, Y/N?"

I look back at Mammon, noticing his face slowly forming a blush, "Yes?"

"I…I wanted to tell ya-" Mammon gets cut off by the first firework going off.

We slightly jump, but my eyes widen as the firework show starts, "It's starting!"

I watch as the firework starts to make the usual dark Devildom sky shine bright with many different colors. All the while, a familiar song starts to play on the speakers, making this a moment that I want to treasure always. It was a song from the human realm and it was a song that made this moment feel more intimate. I honestly couldn't ask for a better day, I got to go to the festival with all my favorite people and I even had, dare I say it, a wonderful date with Mammon. The thought of going on a date with Mammon makes my cheeks burn but I truly wish that this day would never end.

Mammon's heart starts to pound in his chest, his gaze never leaving Y/N. He watches as her eyes glow with wonder, watching the fireworks as if it were the first time. She never looked more beautiful, more perfect than right now. If he was ever gonna make his move, it had to be now. Mammon opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't find it in himself to break her trance. However, his greed for her attention, her voice, her touch, for nothing but her, was growing. So, he closes his mouth and takes a deep breath. He leans closer to her as his shaky hand gently touches her cheek to turn her face towards him.

When I suddenly feel a light touch on my face, I snap back to reality. Before I can react, I feel my face being turned and suddenly, Mammon leans in, his eyes close and gently presses his lips on mine, like he's afraid that I'll break. My eyes widen, taking a moment to realize what is happening. Mammon, feeling me not move, starts to move away, most likely worried he did something wrong. But, not wanting to lose the moment, I quickly filled in the space he left, pressing my lips a bit harder than he did. Mammon tenses at my sudden movement but quickly melts into the kiss, holding my face with his hands. I place the plush to the side, momentarily forgotten, I place my hands on his chest for support.

The air stills, the world around us starts to disappear. The only thing to keep us from forgetting the world completely is the sound of fireworks and the song playing so sweetly.

I snake my arms around Mammon's neck, then he takes the chance to pull me in closer by my waist, closing the gap between us. Even though he was nervous at first, he seems to have relaxed, even nips at my bottom lip, causing me to gasp. He swiftly slips his tongue in my mouth, tangling it with mine, deepening the kiss. We held each other close, like we were afraid that the other would vanish.

Needing to breathe, we lean away slightly. I'm not sure when it happened, but I managed to end up on Mammon's lap. Mammon seems to also realize the position we're in and his breath hitches.

His hand comes up and holds my face, "I love ya, Y/N."

My heart flutters and I lean into his touch, "I love you too, Mammon. I…I always have."

"Y/N, I care about ya so much and I…I don't want anyone else trying to steal my most precious treasure from me. The thought of it kills me, because I'm yer first man." Mammon stops, becoming more shy, "I w-want ya to be mine and…I'll be yers…if ya want me."

I feel as though all of the butterflies in my stomach would explode out of me. I can't stop the big smile that appears on my face, "Mammon," I hold his face in my hands, "no one could ever take me away. And not only that but…" I bite my lip, feeling a bit bashful, "You already have me. Now and forever."

If Mammon could, his eyes would have hearts in them. He looked at me with such lovestruck eyes, his face is probably the most peaceful expression I've ever seen. I look back at him in awe, honestly have never seen him so happy, like he's on cloud nine.

A smile is plastered on his face, "I promise that I will be with ya till the end of time. I gotta be the luckiest demon in the whole festival, no, the Devildom. But, I guess I did win something at the festival after all." His smile suddenly turns into a smirk, "What do ya say we go somewhere more private and we can continue…this?"

My face turns red, but I nod. We stand up, I grab my plushie so that we can leave when I suddenly hear someone, or rather, some people, running this way.

"MAMMON!"

We spin around, both of us knowing too well who that voice belongs to. Lucifer and the rest of the brothers are running at full sprint in our direction.

"Oh shit!" Mammon yells out, quickly sweeping me off my feet, making a run for it.

Startled, I grabbed on to Mammon's jacket, making sure to not drop my crow plush, "Ah! M-Mammon!“

He looks down at me, " Well, I might get strung up later, but I'm yer man now. I want ya all to myself and I don't know about ya, but I'm not ready for tonight to end." He flashes his signature smile.

I can't help but laugh, as we make yet another escape from the brothers. This is truly the best day I could have asked for.

[gretavanfleetposts]

hi i hope this is where i submit to take part of the ship thingy <3  1. i'm a gemini sun, cap rising & cancer moon, she/her 23 yrs old, oh and im also swedish :))  2. i dont think i have a favourite movie atm but maybe i like before sunrise a lot  3. i'd say im a extrovert but i love to be by myself from time to time  4. skill or talent haha, i think im kinda good at creating digital art, im at my best when i socialize though!  5. i dont read that much, i get restless 6. go to pick me up song: any type of supertramp hit lol  7. saltyyyyy  8. i have a black silk dress thats kinda plain but i look bomb af in it haha, can pair it with everything :)))  9. i have a 6 month old puppy named moltas, he is labrador/bavarian mountainhound i believe there called, he is a pain in my ass but at the same time the sweetest thing ever. my first dog just passed and i miss him like crazy :/ they really do have personalities  10. ideal date would be: a real ride or die night out in a foreign country, drinks, random adventures, you know the type when you can't tell night from day. learning about people and cultures while doing it ya know   love this idea, peace love and unity besties x

HEY!

❤: First i'd like to say that you're gorgeous! Your eyes are absolutely stunning! Okay i love the slip dress look, i'm sure you look amazing in it, and i can tell you have great fashion sense just from that one statement because yes i love that you can style the same a bunch of different ways, we love a sustainable queen! I love that you kind of have the best of both extravert and introvert qualities!

Ship: Sam 🔅

Because: I think that he would love how adventurous you are! He would definitely be able to keep up with your extrovert personality but also be able to lay low when you're not feeling like being around people! He loves that you always have a little surprise up your sleeve for you two! I think he would think your heritage is so cool, he would ask you things like "how do you say this in Swedish?" and repeat it to himself a bunch of times until he got the pronunciation right! He would love your wandering energy, and you would always be the one to keep him on his toes, enjoying life! Scenario:

Tonight you and Sam were staying in

He was really tired

So you decided that if you couldn't bring him to an adventure, you'll bring some of it to him

He was on the couch, resting his eyes

You sat beside him and told him to pick a country, any country

He looked at you confused

You repeated yourself, not giving him any hints to what you were up to

"uhhhhh" he starts, "Thailand?"

perfect

You head over to the door, putting on your shoes and jacket

You told him you'll be back soon

He just smiled, he was excited to see what your plan for the evening was

You decided that tonight, you would cook a cuisine from the country of his choice. Thailand it is

You looked up some recipes and headed over to the nearest grocery store

It took about a half an hour to collect all the ingredients, then were on your way back home

You walked through the front door with all your grocery bags to see him in the same spot you left him in, head back against the sofa, eyes closed

You dropped everything on the kitchen counter and went over to your sleeping boyfriend

You didn't want to wake him, but you knew he would love to cook with you

You gingerly traced your thumb across his cheekbone, resulting in his eyes fluttering open

You told him that you're making Thai food

That got his attention

He stood up, stretched, and took your hand, leading you to the kitchen

You spent the evening laughing, drinking, and making some average tasting Thai food

Creating a new tradition the two of you would continue for the rest of your relationship!

Thank you for all the support! I hope you liked it! -🌙 Ships are closed!

[riisinaakka-draws]

part 2/6

2nd part of my old Black Sails scraps and doodles from 2016–2021. Not in any particular order.

This time the drawings are short comics that were abandoned for a reason or another, mostly because I lost the interest or felt like there was too much to redraw compared to the satisfaction of finishing something else more interesting. There’s also some talk about rigid mindset and how overthinking can lead to stagnation.

Contains early silverflint moments, specks of dust, rackham's glasses are found, jealous-Billy spying, desk-Flint gets caught, "squint-squint", a quiet moment and its bird dilemma etc.

And please do not steal and repost elsewhere. But if you do get inspired, feel free to make your own interpretations!

Long-ish post under the cut!

“What are you thinking about?”

“Specks of dust.”

“Liar.”

The idea was to show how much they and their relationship had changed. This was around 2016 when the season 3 began and I was still re-learning to draw with a tablet. Another art from the same time period (and idea) is this art: The Dynamic Duet. 

And for some reason I was really stuck up thinking that I’d have to first do the sketch, then the clean line art, then planes underneath, then shadows etc. and I have always struggled with that kind of approach! Mainly because I hate doing clean line work, lol. And I was a fool for trying to start with a white canvas! It’s so much harder to find values and plan things, or at least in my opinion..

“Rackham’s glasses are found”

To celebrate their new pirate alliance, they share the four lenses of Rackham’s sunglasses as they were also found at the time (because I wanted it to resurface and they could be made into jewellery you know...). This was right after the episode where Anne fights and hurts her hands (here wearing protecting mittens from Max even though she’s not trusted at the moment). Uh, this doesn’t spark joy interest me much and it’s quite stiff and would recuire a lot of redrawing faces, so - discarded!  

I somewhat like the idea still (them having something to share, although it’s on Jack’s detriment). I tried to find a stylished comical easier doodlier? way to draw them and draw clean lines etc, but it just wasn’t for me. Also here too, the background is blank and too bright. Later I started to think things as scenes and draw everything at the same time instead of adding the bg later or trying to show everything (and everyone) at the same time.

Here’s also Billy in the same story:

He’s spying on them and since it’s so bright he’s wearing his diy “sunglasses” and being envious to the others. *cough* uhhh...Idk? Also people were shipping Ben Gunn (and cheese) with Billy, so that bled into this too... Charles’ spirit is riding the “big white bird” that was mentioned in Teach’ story and in this case it’s a pelican.

As you can see, I also wasn’t using the brushes that I use nowadays. A hard (or soft) round brushes with no change in opacity just aren’t for me. For example, in traditional art, I struggle with markers and copics, but really enjoy charcoals and watercolours. I prefer ragged edges, layering and thus blending things into each other (and leaving the viewer to fill in the gaps) instead of having stark or definite things. I also struggle with vector drawings, although I have decided to finally start learning to use them...somedayyyy.

Also, I wasn’t paying attention to anatomy, like, at all LMAO. I was just so happy to be able to put something on the canvas.

This is one of my first ink drawings, but I cannot find the original anymore. Again, I like the idea, but not how things look art-wise. And I was so adamant, that I have to get everything right in the traditional drawing and not fix anything later on on photoshop because then it would be cheating. And thus, I was never able to move on or finish this properly the way I liked it (idiot).

BUT! It was a good practise to just draw and test things on paper and gain confidense on drawing things in overall (as I was still getting back into art). To get over the fear of blank paper you know, and try to find my style whatever it would start to form into.

Oh, yeah, Desk Flint.

Desk Flint was a thing for a while (still is, lol). Another drawing from that time is this Slingshot Pirate (2016). And Desk Flint keeps repeating in many later works too. The point is mainly “Flint sitting behind his desk and people interrupt him and I don’t have to draw him fully”

Well, anyway... moving on.

Here’s a plan that has been stuck for years. It’s name is “Squint-squint.” Left is the sketch (with another sketch underneath because the expressions were clearer in the old one). On the right is the continued piece with colour scheme but I cropped the eyes panel and faces out (it was so ugly for some reason) but if I ever continue/finish this, it will be redrawn there in the middle.)

Left. “On that moment their eyes were literally open(ed).”

Right. “After squinting on the shore for days, they had actually forgotten how pretty the other idiot’s eyes were.”

I still like it, quite a lot, but my perfectionist ass only sees too much “boring” things to draw and get right, so it hasn’t been a priority for a long time and other works have kept me occupied and more interested in them.

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

“Quiet Moment.” 2018 (a wordless comic happening after the events of Charles Town)

I’m going to explain after these pictures, but see how big the difference is when you start to look at references and plan things together (the space, “camera” movement, background etc). I also started to colour with coarser brushes:

I drew this around early 2018. A lot of improvement! Still quite a lot of negative space (empty white backgrounds), but it fits this work. A few things tell where we are (the ship’s cabin and the balcony). Changing distances and how things are cropped/framed make things more moving and focused (and less to draw, lol). Colours and brush strokes are softer, more layered and so on.

But guess why it’s still a wip!

I couldn’t decide what bird is flying over there.

Yeap! At first it was an albatross (doesn’t go to Bahamas?). Then a seagull (but which seagull? there’s so many subspecies! Is the ship at sea or at the harbour? what birds are there on the open water/ close to the shore?? oh noo...) So, yeah, wayyyy too much over-thinking.

At some point I ended up with white-tailed-tropic-bird which was a plus! because it sounds like the bosun’s whistle, but at that point I was so tangled and frustrated and still had so much to finish with this that I left it be. Also Flint’s face looks different in every frame so I would’ve had to change some parts, lol. And then I forgot it for a couple of years! And then I had learned to draw a bit differently and again saw too much things to do, so it’s quite hard to take on this again, especially when there are so many other interesting wips waiting...

But I still really like the feeling of it! And the colour scheme. So I might just limit the things I’m allowed to fix and then post it as it own someday. I mean, it’s 90% finished, but the last reach just feels like miles.

And that’s what usually happens with my wips. They reach a certain point and it suddenly becomes really hard to finish or get back into.

But every time I learn things and then use the information in another work! :D

Final note for this post (altough this has been said hundreds of times): use references and look how things go and try to see the structure and form beneath things. And think where it is happening and how the light and surroundings affects the characters and/or spaces. And maybe think what you’re trying to convey with the art, what idea? what emotions? what purpose? or like, what are you trying to learn with the piece? and so on...

Thanks for checking this out, I hope you had fun <3

[coffintownkids]

I've had enough of being a mopey bitch today!

So I finished Ch.33 instead.

It's a great “atmosphere” chapter in that we have arrived in Yì City. (Also why, officially, I’m not actually translating it as Yì City throughout - though I am probably too lazy to fix my own tagging system on this site lol!)

This might help any fic writers out there looking for more location info beyond what could be gleaned from the show. Or at least I hope it does.

The chapter opens with this:

Shǔdōng was home to a number of river valleys screened in by tall mountain peaks. Its terrain was rugged and unforgiving with scant wind. It was why much of the area remained shrouded in fog all year round.

So, a bit of set up first. WWX and LWJ pass through a very rural little village on their “body part quest” and are trying to figure out where the hand is pointing them. The stone slab serving as a direction marker is cracked so they can’t read the first character. WWX ends up gaining some intel from the locals.

Wèi Wúxiàn said, “This road leads to Yì Town. The first character on the stone slab is ‘yì’.”

Lán Wàngjī said, “Yì as in chivalrous?”

Wèi Wúxiàn said, “It is, and it isn’t.”

Lán Wàngjī said, “What do you mean?”

Wèi Wúxiàn said, “It is indeed that character, but the meaning is wrong. It’s not the yì in chivalrous, but rather the yì as in coffin home.”

As you can see, this is a bit hard to convey in English. The character being talked about for yì is 義 (义 in simplified Chinese, though it is referencing the more complicated traditional character here, which is why they couldn’t read the broken stone). The word for chivalrous LWJ mentions is written as 俠義. WWX corrects him and says it’s a coffin home 義莊.

Now, a bit of an explanation. Coffin homes were real places used in older times as, for lack of a better term, like equal part morgues and funeral homes. Dead bodies would be stored here while awaiting transport to where they were to be buried (ie person died in village A but their family’s ancestral graves are in village B, so the body would have to be brought there.) They were also used to store bodies of those whose relatives couldn’t be found or the bodies of those too poor to afford funeral services.

Wèi Wúxiàn continued, “A few of the ladies were saying for as long as anyone can remember, six or seven people out of every ten dies prematurely in that town. They either have a short life or a violent death. There are quite a lot of coffin homes within the town to store the bodies. Put that together with that they specialize in coffins, ritual paper money, and other funerary offering objects. Regardless of whether people make coffins or bound paper, the craftsmanship is exquisite. That’s why it’s called by this name.”

Going forward, as it’s meant to be read as a nickname, I’ll be translating it as “Coffin Town.” Notice I used town and not city? That’s because 城 (chéng) can be read as town or city. Based on what we learn about the place, while it seemed to be a decently-sized place compared to the village they just visited and at one point had some prosperity, it seems more “town-sized” than “city-sized” overall. And that, my friends, is where my url comes from!

When the left hand drew itself into a fist, a dilapidated town gate emerged at the end of the main road. The edge of the wall was missing tiles and some paint. A corner had fallen off. It was an exceptionally dilapidated-looking blight. The walls had graffiti from who knew what people scrawled all over it. Its red gate had nearly faded white, its nails rusted black. Its double doors hadn’t been closed securely and looked as if someone had pushed them open just wide enough to slip inside.

Even without entering, it gave people the sense that this was a haunted place where demons ran wild.

While Wèi Wúxiàn was walking along, he was constantly taking in his surroundings. When they arrived at the gates, his assessment was, “The fēng shuǐ is really lousy.”

Lán Wàngjī slowly nodded along, “It’s inhospitable here.”

Coffin Town was surrounded on all four sides by steep mountain cliffs with their slopes inclining sharply towards their centers. They were an overwhelmingly intimidating presence and looked as if they could come crashing down at any moment. Completely enclosed by gigantic pitch-black mountain cliffs and filled with wretched fog, it was more of a supernatural creature than actual supernatural creatures. Just standing within it made a person’s chest tighten and heart race as its intensely threatening aura suffocated them.

From time immemorial, it has been said that “a place reflects the glory of its people.” The opposite is also true. Some places, due to its terrain and location, have poor fēng shuǐ and stagnant energy lingers. The people that lived there were prone to having short lives that would end far too soon. Everything would go wrong. If one’s ancestors had taken root here, even their bones would rot. Moreover, these places were often breeding grounds for the paranormal. The probability of corpse transformations, phantoms, returning spirits, and other such events occurring were several times higher. It was obvious that Coffin Town was such a place.

So Coffin Town sure is scary! One little translation point about LWJ saying the place is inhospitable. His line is 山穷水恶, which is a bit unusual. It’s usually written as 穷山恶水. It more literally means “barren mountains and foul water” so an inhospitable place. Not sure if there is significance in the word order being changed. Though it did make me think of another similarly-written idiom. 山穷水尽 meaning the mountains are barren and the river’s run dry. Aka there’s nowhere else to go. So without getting too much into fēng shuǐ, it is the idea of keeping everything in harmony. So with this place having bad fēng shuǐ, LWJ can also mean that there’s nowhere for the bad energy (恶) to go. I might be overthinking this bit here, but LWJ is famous for being a man of few words and still manages to convey an awful lot.

The pair walked right up to the gates and exchanged a glance with each other.

“Creeeeak,” they undertook the extremely heavy load of the misaligned gate doors and slowly opened them.

What they saw before them wasn’t the heavy bustle of traffic, but they also weren’t assaulted by the stench of dead bodies. There was only the ever-present blanket of white.

Filled with thick fog, the mist was several times denser here than it was outside the town. It was barely possible for them to clearly see the main road right in front of them. There were buildings set up on both sides.

The pair unconsciously took a few steps closer to each other while they entered the town together.

It was still daytime now, but the town was completely silent. Not only was there no one talking, there wasn’t even the sound of a dog barking. It was enormously strange.

However, since this was the location the left arm had indicated, so it would be stranger if it wasn’t strange.

They followed the main road for a while and the deeper they went into the town, the denser the white fog would become. As if something sinister was permeating the air. They could barely see ten paces ahead to start with and later they couldn’t discern shapes five paces ahead. And even further, they could barely see their fingers. The farther Wèi Wúxiàn and Lán Wàngjī walked, the closer they leaned towards each other. Their shoulders were brushing together and they barely managed being able to see each other’s faces. Wèi Wúxiàn had a thought spontaneously pop into his head, “If someone were to take advantage of this heavy fog and quietly slipped in between us and our duo turned into a trio, I’m afraid I don’t know whether or not we would discover them.”

Definitely gives off some serious Silent Hill-esque vibes, doesn’t it?

We do get further into the plot after this, but I just wanted to share a cool setting post. Hope you enjoyed it!

[kaetastic]

MINE

pairing: Luca Changretta x Reader

summary: On the streets of London, Luca Changretta feels the need to show people what’s his [requested: @supermegapauselouca​​]

warning: fluff, jealousy

word count: 2.5k

notes: thank you all so much for 600 followers! thank you for reading my works! have a good day and please take care! and i will never get tired of @supermegapauselouca​ ‘s asks! thank you so much! i hope this is alright :) my goal was 1.1k but somehow it surpassed that lol

Luca Changretta was at the land of the iconic historical royal mess, England, to accomplish a vendetta, to bring justice to his father’s death which will never be left in vain. His father was killed by a flock of infant gangsters who waved around their guns, Birmingham gangsters. People of an organisation that could barely handle shit. A reason to why Luca was slightly elated because all they ever was and will be are weakling gangsters. Not the mafia. Overlooking the two sides of the coin, the Italian, without a doubt, knew that his side of the fence possessed things Thomas Shelby will never get to touch. Just the name of the man was enough for him to regurgitate the small breakfast he had in the morning. All he needed to do was remove the Shelby’s name from existence, and he can get away to enjoy his long-awaited life in New York with his lover.

Give them the taste of their own medicine; then he might be able to finally catch pleasant snooze or deep sleep in the shared bed of his house at New York. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get to enjoy the sights England offered. Despite the serious, vital business he was on, it didn’t hurt him to experience the foreign country. Although he’s been to England before for his cousin’s wedding, the limited time had only allowed him a few days of exploring the country he was once at. He was barely impressed with what the country had to give, there are endless words and they ended up with the name ‘spotted dick’?

With a hand stuffed in his pocket that only gave warmth to the tips of his fingers, his tongue caressed the bulging splints of the matchstick that pierced into the flap of muscle. As he stood on the bricked sidewalk, he couldn’t help but notice the drop in temperature after he exited the store. Starting a fire sounds good right about now. The noise of cars conversing one another overlapped the shouting of civilians, enough to battle against those raging factories in the industrial sections of England that clashed of ramming metal and screaming of roaring fires. There was one sound that remained the same in New York and London, a bustling noise that others would find irritating, however, the mafioso grew to like it. It gave him a sense of security, a song that he didn’t need to drag all the way from home. It also reminded him that he was not on a peculiar land of another life form; although, cowering around Birmingham felt like it.

The honking of cars echoed into his ears as if it was a practising choir of amateurs who set an uneven tone of screeching pitches and guttural hums, a song played on loop in the early rising of the sun. To be months away from home, everything started to rock him even though he reassured he was going to be just fine. The boat he had anchored on England started to dance to the wavering current of events. The Italian didn’t do well with seasickness, so, now he felt homesick. To make matters worse, the bag of coffee he had brought had begun to crumple up at the lack of the product.

He was deprived of the warm walls that were coated with hung framed pictures of him smiling, something he doesn’t often do in England. But, that wasn’t even what he had missed. There were nights he wasn’t able to find solace in the hotel bed he was to slumber in until he has taken down the Shelby’s. There weren’t occasional rustling of sheets or faint mumbling of nonsense in the middle of the night. The absence of her presence resulted in a rocky week of fluctuating sleep for the mafioso.

The prickly material of the sheets hooked onto his ageing skin, tugging on it with a snap. Travelling far from home once again, begun to peel his eyes to notice the fine details that he would usually overlook, things that didn’t bother him before, such as the frigid wind that continuously bit into him every time his toes would accidentally poke out from the heating sheets with every meticulous movement.

Luca was grateful he chose Henley Street, it was more private and reserved. Although, a part of him only wanted to stay in the Inkberrow Hotel because of its theatre past of the iconic, William Shakespeare. Though, it wasn’t good for his cranking brain. The Italian liked silence, it was where he thrived best, but because he was metres away from home, it was only scribbled in his destiny for him to worry about what was going on at home.

The torment of only a couple of hours of sleep ended when the person who consumed the majority of space in his head had appeared. After a long day of unsuccessful negotiations that were not met to his satisfaction, all the Italian wanted was Y/N. God seemed to hear his plead as she had been sitting on his bed when he creaked the door open. Even though he was against the idea of her being at England as threats can be imposed onto her (never will he trust Thomas Shelby’s words that spew out of his mouth), shoved deep down his gut was a craving need for her. With her presence, he nearly met with the floor once she mentioned coffee.

Months without seeing his girl was excruciating. International calls were better than scribbled lines on letters, but it was nothing like being in each other’s presence. Whenever he had time to ponder which was more than adequate, it always directed back to her. Without a doubt, the Italian was constantly concerned about his mother’s well-being since she was alone during hardships of losing her son and her husband in a barely digestible timespan. Audrey Changretta insisted on bringing justice to her husband’s name. Luca Changretta was a mafioso, but he was also mama’s boy. 

As a man travelling to England for a vendetta, he came to the land as a lover of theatre. Not even a hefty weight of carrying out such a traditional task will drag his shoulders down. With the addition of his girl’s presence, the Italian wasn’t perplexed to why he was on the streets of lively London, out in the open. Her words had always managed to enchant him, even before they were even official. It was as if she had the ability to cast a spell on him. It was something along the lines of ‘going out for fresh air’ and ‘not get cooped up in his own exhalation’. If she wasn’t there, Luca was sure he would be a drowning mess as months proceeded. 

The corners of his lips curled up at the thought of a happy life. A happy life with Y/N, and he was sure once the vendetta had been accomplished, the life he dreamed of as a mere boy will come true. The morning scent of cars’ passing gas and overly scented colognes battled on the golden street. Mists of smoke vaporized into the air, a present for those who lingered behind the vehicle. Gentle rattles of the metal vehicle jittered throughout the frigid metal sheets as uneven crests of the brick road created a dizzying ride. Occasional screeching of whistles from police officers trickled into his ears, to which he only let out a laugh. A smear of bitterness coated on his tongue. He wasn’t sure if it was from men who could barely call their clothing... outfits or from the sight hazed over with a pane of red. 

The white pine of the matchstick pierced into his tongue, slashing through the muscle to snip away his thrumming blood vessels. Across the bustling road was a pavement overrun by milling heads of crowds who weaved through strings of beads. The fiery head of the stick gestured towards the ground, neck nearly snapped into fragments of floating bones. Luca sat behind a brick wall to those who lingered their eyes over his suit or most likely, the prominent black ink cross on the side of his neck, but his eyes did not quiver away from Y/N’s figure. 

Although the woman who scurried over the other side of the road to check out the trinkets she had found amusing, it seemed her plans had changed. Mumbling about bringing souvenirs home, it didn’t take long for her to dash away. The Italian had to enter a shop; however, he was not worried, for his henchmen trailed behind her. After being with Luca, Y/N memorized everybody’s faces and their names. She was slightly defeated when she had spotted them following her even though she was just across the store Luca was in, but she was not surprised. The Italians were at war, which only led to an increase to his already high worry about her. 

Under the grinning sun, the woman who managed to enraptured his heart sent those smiles that would cause his ancient knees to bobble. Not to him, but another man. The glint in her eyes sparkled under the rays of light like chilly cubes of ice that were dunked in whiskey, under a faint haze of the sunset. Dressed in a navy blue knee-length dress, an outfit Luca was proud to announce an uncle of his had stitched, and the same-coloured cloche hat, it was a drooling sight for him in the morning. After insisting that the day had a lot in store for him, Luca was sure it was a tactic she had used because the night before, he had his nose dug into his papers. 

His jaw ticked. Throwing a glance at the pair of men he had assigned to follow the woman, they replied with a shrug of their shoulders. Fucking useless. A part of him nudged him to trudge over to her and swoop in. Yet, he was glued onto the spot. Fingers pinching the neck of the matchstick, he crossed his arms as he grazed his eyes over the scene. 

A giggle seeped through Y/N’s teeth as the words of the man trickled into her ears. When the boy who had been sauntering around with trinkets in his hands had paced away after she had taken one in possession, she was approached by a man in a two-piece ashy grey suit. His name was Jacob, a lover of travelling, a reason to why he had even pursued in his career despite his mother’s worried speeches. Even the reason for his approach was amusing, the odd man had found the horse trinket to be like that of his childhood’s pony. Although, he mentioned that the pony was slightly more... rounded. Without knowing Luca’s eyes were caressing over the pair, she had indulged in Jacob’s presence, “It is true, I hear of these buildings in America and I wish to see them one day.” 

The ceramic horse she had purchased sat in the cowering darkness of her purse, a noticeable addition of weight had sagged the bottom of the purse, “I hope you get a chance to see them. If you do, my boyfriend is a businessman, I’m sure he can hook you up with something, he’s actually in that store.”

Pointing towards the shop Luca had entered not too long ago, her finger ended up bullseye on his face. Y/N wasn’t sure what expression he wore when she glanced at him. Clenched with narrowed eyes, the hat that sat on his head smeared a coat of shadow over his forehead. The golden rings wrapped around his fingers glistened under the rays of light, blaring beams into her eyes. Luca quirked his eyebrows. Although she would have liked to proceed with the conversation, the blurry figure of two men in dark suit popped out in the corners of her eyes. Before Jacob had the chance to inquire for any other information, she let out a breathy sigh, “I’m sorry, Jacob. But I must be on my way, good day.” 

Jacob’s mouth cranked open, but with a glare from the two ominous people who trailed behind Y/N, it caused his mouth to zip shut. Raising her hands at the honking cars who yelled at her for sprinting across the road, she called out his name, “Luca.”

The Italian sauntered away, fingers fiddling with the toothpick as her voice fell on his deaf ears. With a huff, she stomped towards the Italian even though his colossal strides led her to go breathless, “Luca, look at what I got.” 

Yanking out the glossy horse from her purse which seemed to be painted by unsteady hands since wavering trails of pink overlapped to concoct a pastel purple which soon swirled down its poor legs, the corners of her lips curled down as she had only seen the faults under a proper angle of sunlight. Although she wore a toothy grin to the man who glanced at the mess of a trinket, Luca continued to pace to nowhere. A part of her became blue since she assumed he would find it hilarious to even be put up in their home, while the other was irritated. Y/N couldn’t care less for the horse, she was annoyed by his abrupt behaviour of a wild, untamed child, “What’s going on with you?” 

Slightly more exasperated, she weaved through the crowds who opposed current. Y/N felt like a fish who was streaming up a stream of water. Even though Luca’s lanky figure, added by his lavish suit was seen by almost everyone, no one bothered to apply the same to her. So, Luca sauntered at a casual gait, fingers twiddling with the matchstick, his legs were not crisscrossed or in coiled swirls, as everyone made a path for him, while Y/N had to duck under slabs of wood carried by workers and scoot around bawling children. Were they even supposed to be up this early? 

Then, it all clicked together. Halting on the spot which caused people to throw glances, the corners of her lips quirked up. Luca Changretta was jealous. The Italian didn’t know where he was even going, all he did was focus on the sidewalk and he didn’t bother to check the street names. That was when agile footsteps screeched in front of him, “You’re jealous,” An icy glare that would normally send everyone into shards of ashes was shot at her, which only made her grin. “Luca Changretta is jealous.”

Despite his stoic face and tight lip, her sing-song voice seeped into his heart. And oh lord, if only the corners of his lips did not twitch, the teasing would’ve ended, “You are!” Arms wrapped around the cooling fabric of his suit, she rested her body onto him. “Are you just gonna ignore me?” No words fell off his lips as he continued walking without hurling a glance. “Fine. Just to let you know, I’m wearing your favourite.” 

Shocks of volts zapped into his feet, tugging the strings of his leg to halt once her voice deepened to huskiness. Grazing his eyes the crowd, he could see her figure fading into the distant. Oh, that little minx. 

[fandomscombine]

Fandomscombine’s Writing Challenge

Hello there! For a while now, I really wanted to host a writing challenge. Cause to be honest, these challenges are fun, it helps and push me to write better, think outside the box and even out of writing slumps.

So, I thought Why Not? Plus, the holidays are around the corner and yes do I love reading holiday theme fics.

In honor of the holidays and the current 774 of you lovely people who follow me. Whether be it for all the bunch of fandoms posts or the fics and writing pieces that I have now become part of. Thank you so much, we might not talk, just reblog and like each other’s post. Still thank you. 

You might be the ones you follow me for the multiple fandoms post- Hi!. Or you could be a fellow fic writer and/or reader- Hello there! To the readers, thank you for the taking the time and supporting this little stories.To the writer, please do continue writing, your fics are wonderful and do bring joy to the reader like myself (or to tears, you know if you write angst)

And then if you want, I’d really appreciate it if you joined this Writing Challenge. (I really don’t want this to flop lol)

Links of the finished works would be added so it’d reach a wider audience!

Rules:

1.       Each person can choose up to 3 Prompts max.

2.       You can mix in 1 Song fic is you want. Or just do a Song Fic, that’s fine. 3.       Multiple Tropes can be in a fic. 4.       A max limit of 2 people can do each prompt, trope and song (I’ll strikethrough it off, when it’s full) 5.       When you post, Tag me (@fandomscombine) and the hashtag ‘#fandomscombinewritingchallenge 6.       Send me an ask to indicate when prompts/tropes/song you want to do AND don’t forget which character x reader you will be writing about. 7.       Since this is 1st Writing Challenge, I would stick to having the fics be from the Harry Potter & The Umbrella Academy fandom 8.       Also I’d really appreciate it if you reblogged this so that it would have a wider reach. A follow would be great too!  9.       Deadline: JAN 31 2021

Fluff Prompts:

1.       “Oh no you didn’t” “Oh yes I did”

-Sirius Black x Reader by @ weasleydream

2.       “How did I get so lucky to wake up next to you each day?”

3.       “You’ve been acting weird all day. What are you up to?”

4.       “Can’t I just show my girlfriend/boyfriend some love just because?”

5.       “What’s this?” “Just a little something…”

6.       “You’re staring again.”

7.       “If you allow me, I want to be your forever.”

8.       “You act different when you think no one is around.” “Is that so?”

 “Matchmaking”  Sirius Black x Reader by @iwritesiriusly

9.       “You give really great hugs.”

10.   “Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

11.   “I like it when your hair is styled like that. It suits you.”

12.   “I don’t think I would get tired of you. Ever.”

- Fred Weasley x Reader by @feetoffthetable 

13.   “Who knew that under all this, that you have a sweet and sensitive side.”

  “Matchmaking”  Sirius Black x Reader by @iwritesiriusly ​

14.   “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  -Young!Sirius Black x Reader by @wonderful-writer​

15.   “Babe, I love you. But if you get caught, you’re on your own.”

16.   “You’re so hot! – I mean temperature-wise, you’re hot.” “Just temperature-wise?”

Klaus Hargreeves x Reader by @pennaesapone

Angst Prompts:

1.       “I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.”

2.       “Don’t you get it? We’re done. I’ve healed, I’ve moved on.”

3.       “You were my everything, but I was nothing to you.”

4.       “I just don’t feel that way. I’m sorry that I led you on.”

5.       “Why don’t you want us to go public?”

6.       “I have fallen for someone else.”

7.       “Don’t touch me!”

  -Young!Sirius Black x Reader by @wonderful-writer

8.       “Just leave me alone.”

9.       “Can you hold me? Please.”

10.   “I didn’t mean it like that!”

11.   “People grow. People change.”

12.   “I think we could use a break.”

- Fred Weasley x Reader by @feetoffthetable​

13.   “Don’t you ever do that again! I could have lost you!”

14.   “I’ve lost count on how many times you’ve broken my heart.”

  -Young!Sirius Black x Reader by @wonderful-writer​

15.   “What did I do wrong?”

Holiday Prompts:

1.       “Why does my Christmas sweater have Scrooge on it while yours has reindeers in Santa hats?”

-Sirius Black x Reader by @ weasleydream

2.       “This sure is a lot of food just for us.” “Oh, trust me, it isn’t enough. My whole extended family is coming over for Christmas Dinner.”

3.       “Ehhh love? I think the cookies are burning.”

4.       “I can’t wait to see what this new year will hold.”

5.       “Oh no, I don’t sing.” “Come on! Singing Christmas Carols is a tradition!”

6.       “Having our family around this holiday is making me think that maybe…I want to start our family.”

7.       “No peeking when I’m wrapping your present!”

Song Fic:

1.       Black and White - Niall Horan

-Cedric Diggory x OC by @stellastyless

2.       Lovebug - The Jonas Brothers

3.       Pretty Please – Dua Lipa

4.       One More Hour – Anthony Ramos

5.       Lie to Me - 5SOS

6.       Death of a Bachelor – Panic! At The Disco

7.       I Just Called to Say I Love You - Stevie Wonder

8.       You Belong with Me – Taylor Swift

9.       Take a Chance on Me – ABBA

10.   Catching Feelings – Justin Bieber

Tropes:

1.       Friends to Lovers  [FULL]

“two of us“ Diego Hargreeves x Reader by @belowva​

-Cedric Diggory x OC by @stellastyless​

2.       Enemies to Lovers

3.       Weddings

   -Young!Sirius Black x Reader by @wonderful-writer​

4.       Proposal

5.       Fake Dating

“two of us“ Diego Hargreeves x Reader by @belowva​

6.       Roommates

7.       Oblivious Mutual Pining

8.       Domestic Fluff

9.       Forbidden Love

10.   Height Difference

11.   Optimist and Pessimist

12.   Tough exterior but is actually a cinnamon roll

13.   Looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you.

14.   Extrovert and Introvert

15.   The One that Got Away

16.   Meet Cute

17.   Parents/Parents to be

Tagging those who showed interest to join! (Seriously hoping that this doesn’t flop)

@ weasleydream @ 04justanotherfangirl01