#dizzys🎶

[ringhoarder]

*at a recovery meeting* hi I’m Cal and I’m a bassline junkie. Yeah I like it funky 😔

[elixirfromthestars]

Boulevard Confessions

Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Reader 

Summary: Being a third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn't your ideal Thursday night fun. However, when they tell you Bucky is tagging along you eagerly decide to join them. That is until a third party makes its presence known.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning(s): drinking / fluff / jealousy / divergent from canon timeline / suggestive language / tipsy symptoms / mentions of war + the hardships that came with it

a/n:  Here’s a little piece that’s been sitting unfinished in my drafts for ages. For context, this timeline is one where Steve and Bucky both made it back from the war safe and sound and are enjoying their lives now that the war is over. Thank you for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ As a little psa my writing challenge is still ongoing!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! ♡

for ambiance 🎶

“ I am about to spew my dinner all over this table,” you grimace, downing the rest of your martini. The bitterness of the spirits was lost on you as your consumption grew in time with your sour mood.

Peggy eyed you from across the table, holding back her amusement, “ If you keep stuffing your face with martinis you will.” You reach out to grab another unclaimed drink, but before you could, Peggy slid the rest of them away from you. You crossed your arms, blowing out a resigned sigh. Even in your inhibited state, you knew better than to argue with an SSR agent. 

Peggy shook her head at you, “ As your best friend I have an obligation to put a stop to this. Don’t you have a shift tomorrow at the clinic?” Your eyes went wide at the reminder. 

You slump in the booth, dreading the bad hangover awaiting you in the morning. “ I do, but thankfully it's in the afternoon. I won’t feel it by then. . .” You trailed off, failing to convince Peggy, or yourself, you wouldn’t be miserable at work tomorrow. Peggy turned to look at the dance floor before returning her attention to you, “ You know, maybe you should dance the dizzy away. It might help you sober up.” Your lips purse at her suggestion, noticing a certain blonde-haired blue-eyed super soldier returning from the bathroom.

 “ It's easy for you to say. You have a dance partner,” you motioned over to Steve. 

“ You would too if you would only go up and ask him,” she pointed out. 

You glanced at the dancing couples, “ No way. With the way that leech is clinging on to him—I’d never get one word in.”

She shrugged, “ You’ll never know until you try.” These were her parting words before Steve arrived at the table and escorted her onto the dance floor. You watched them, your head bopping along tiredly to the swing music. 

Maybe you should have stayed home. 

You almost didn’t come to the outing—being the third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn’t exactly your ideal Thursday night fun. However, Peggy had mentioned Bucky would come along, and seeing as you hadn’t seen him in a few weeks due to conflicting schedules, you thought this would be the perfect opportunity to catch up. 

That was until the leech—a woman named Darla—decided to hog Bucky all night. Darla had been trying to get with Bucky for over a month now. You found this out tonight when Steve made a comment about it. Bucky hadn’t paid it much importance, so you thought it must have not been anything serious. However, right about the time you and Bucky were starting to catch up, Darla came over and dragged him away. 

Since then you’ve been inhaling martinis like your lungs preferred them over air. 

You couldn’t help the way your eyes drifted over to Bucky’s figure. Handsome as ever in his navy suit—your favorite color on him—and hair neatly combed. Watching as Darla threw herself at him with the courage that you lacked. Pulling him every which way on the dance floor, holding his hands to her hips in a tight grip. 

Your stomach contents were threatening to come up again. 

When did things get so complicated? You scratched at your brain for an answer. Spending time with Bucky had been so easy back at the military base where you met. You were stationed there in the medical unit caring for wounded and ill soldiers. During that time, you became great friends with Peggy and everyone on the Howling Commandos team. Bucky would frequently visit the medical unit even when he wasn’t sick or wounded. Sometimes you swore he would fake injuries or aches just to come and see you. Anytime he came in with something new he would refuse to see any other nurse but you.

It made you feel special. While other women were smitten with his charms and stumbled over seizing his attention—you had it without effort. You had so much more than just his attention without even trying. On hopeless nights he shared his fears, on days where the war seemed endless you eased his worries, and when he felt like the world was crashing down on him his heart spilled all vulnerabilities to you. 

You found refuge from the horrors of war in each other—a balm to each other’s wounds that went beyond the physical. In no time, something deeper for him bloomed within your heart. 

Ever since the war was over, however, things have been different. It’s been a couple of years and Steve and Bucky work alongside Peggy for the Strategic Scientific Reserve. Going on missions has become their norm, so seeing your friends is a rarity nowadays. 

You on the other hand were given a job at a children’s clinic in Brooklyn. You were grateful for this small piece of normality coming back to you. Treating smaller wounds on smaller bodies instead of lethal wounds during a relentless battle. Your senses are permanently burned with sights, sounds, and smells horrific enough to induce nightmares—and they do—managing to steal precious hours of sleep from you almost every night.

It was something you and Bucky especially bonded over.

“ May I have the honor of a dance, gorgeous?” A voice interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to meet a pair of unrecognizable hazel eyes. A handsome stranger stood in front of you, his hand outstretched for you to take. If you had but only one percentage less of alcohol in your system you would have declined his offer. This of course wasn’t the case, and not wanting to reminisce on more melancholy thoughts, you decided to listen to Peggy’s advice and dance the dizzy away.

Even if it wasn’t with the man you wanted to dance with.

“ You may,” you smiled at him, taking hold of his hand. Swiftly you were swept into the sea of couples on the dance floor. The handsome stranger—who you soon learn was named Thomas—was an impeccable dancer. With one hand holding yours, and the other holding you gently at your lower back, he spun you around the dance floor in rhythmic kicks and slides. Thomas’ energy was infectious and you couldn’t help but match his enthusiasm. 

After two dances your footwork and Thomas’ were practically synchronized. Thomas twirled you, causing a giggle to escape your lips. It seemed the alcohol was stubborn about staying in your system as the twirl caused the dizziness to come back—for a split second—making you trip over your own foot. Thomas caught you and steadied you, both of you laughing at your clumsiness. The carefreeness of it all lulled the ache in your heart.

Behind Thomas, you caught a glimpse of Peggy who was dancing as joyfully with Steve. Her eyes met yours and she sent you an encouraging smile. Soon after, her eyes drifted to something behind you, turning her smile into a smirk. You went back to dancing with Thomas, but manoeuvered around to get a look at what caused Peggy to smirk. Your heart did a little jump when you discovered she had been looking at Bucky and Darla, dancing a few feet from where you were. 

Correction. She had been staring at a Bucky you barely recognized. His jaw clenched and body rigid as he glared daggers at the back of Thomas’ head. Darla beside him looked snubbed, tugging on Bucky’s arm to get his attention. His tense demeanor didn’t move an inch no matter how much she protested. The pair were no longer dancing, merely standing in the sea of all the couples. This piqued your curiosity. 

Why had he stopped dancing? And to glare at Thomas of all things?

You didn’t have much time to think about it as Darla, clearly fed up by Bucky’s lack of attention, grabbed him by his arm and pulled him away from the dance floor. You swayed to and fro with Thomas, controlling the direction you were swinging in to try and not lose Bucky from your line of sight. 

Where was Darla taking him?

Your heart stopped when you realized where they were going. Darla was making a beeline for the back of the bar where the honey hallway was. The spot where all the couples went to have a little more privacy and fool around without having to leave the bar. If he was going there with Darla, then maybe things were more serious between them than you previously believed.

Your heart dropped to your stomach when reality sank in. 

You excused yourself from Thomas, scurrying away in need of some fresh air. He offered to follow along, but you declined wanting to be alone. You threw the entrance door open into the Brooklyn night as a sickly feeling spread throughout your body. 

You stepped into the street, the swing music fading into the background as the door closed behind you. You took in a deep breath, once again regretting the amount of alcohol you had consumed.

If you weren’t drunk seeing Bucky with someone else wouldn’t have hurt so much. It wouldn’t have knocked the air out of your lungs like it's doing now.

You know that’s a lie. That’s a damn lie you’re telling yourself to get you through the night. To give you the strength to focus on your surroundings and trudge home. 

You’d eventually do that. First, however, your body seemed to want to cling to a street lamp to bring the world back to you. The cold metal underneath your palms grounding you for a moment. The breeze blowing past you threading through your hair as if to comfort you.

“ Doll, everything alright?” Your heart stuttered when you heard his voice, the thud of the bar door closing following it. You shut your eyes and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying or doing anything the liquid courage in your system was trying to wrestle out of you. 

You knew you needed to make a quick getaway. 

“ I’m fine. Just heading home,” you were straight to the point before turning to walk away. Not looking at him as you put one foot in front of the other—and then stumbled. 

Bucky caught you, his arms offering a strong support,“ Woah, Y/n, how much did you drink?” There was a slight annoyance in his tone. As if the mere thought of you having fun was preposterous. 

Or at least that’s how your tipsy state interpreted it.

“ Doesn’t matter. I can have a drink or two if I want to. I get to have fun too,” you retort, trying to push his arms away from your body. Your arms are no match for his, as he doesn’t budge an inch—on the contrary, his hold gets more firm. The world started to spin more, but at this point, whether it was because of the martinis or his proximity—you wouldn’t know. 

Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes,“ This isn’t having fun. This is going overboard,” he counters. His constant need to hold you steady and scold you for drinking irked the part of you that was already upset with him—fueling it more. Especially when you had the image of him heading to the honey hallway with Darla ingrained in your brain. And his arms, the ones around you now, swinging her around on the dancefloor. 

There was something dark bubbling an envious brew within you. 

“ Why do you give a damn?” you snap out harshly. He stills at your tone and it's enough to shake his hold off of you. You force yourself to look at him. Intending to shoot him an annoyed glare. Something to convey what your heart felt when your words failed to—but when your eyes met his you froze. 

They were dark—virtually stormy—and yet, there was a hint of pain in them. Almost as if you had kicked him, but he was toughing it out.

“ What was that about?” He finally spoke after what seemed like too long. 

“ What was what about?” You feigned innocence. 

His eyes got darker, a disapproving half smile on his face,“ Don’t play coy. I come out here to check on you. You’re stumbling like a drunk fool. I try to help and you snap at me?” 

“ I didn’t ask you to,” you’re quick with your dismissal.

“ You…unbelievable…” Bucky lets out a scoff, not knowing how to respond. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into you. In his mind, you’re simply too drunk to regulate yourself. He doesn’t know the vile jealousy that bubbles in the pit of your stomach and gnaws at your heart. He doesn’t know the intense battle your emotions are having with your brain—right in front of him—to stay silent before you truly say something you cannot take back. 

“ Go back inside. I’m heading home,” you say simply, not wanting to dwell on this conversation any longer. You feared what might come of it if you didn’t.

“ No. I'm walking you home,” he shakes his head firmly, his tone matching in conviction. 

“ No, you're not,” you reply, turning to make your way down the boulevard. Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose, “ Like hell I'm not, doll. I'm not letting you walk home alone.” 

“I'm not letting you walk me home. I don't want you to,” you say adamantly as your feet start moving. Bucky is right beside you as they do, not letting you get away,“ I don't care what you want or don't want. I'm walking you home and that's final.” His voice leaves no room for argument. 

The martinis in your system don’t particularly give a damn, but it is enough to quiet you for the time being. Your speed increases slightly, but Bucky can match it easily. For a moment you consider running—as ridiculous as an idea that may be. 

The sharp patter of your footsteps against the pavement synchronizes with the thudding of his as they mingle down the boulevard. The city sounds around you are an otherwise low hum of the occasional car and distant conversation. The city still whispering its signs of life at this time of night.

The walk to your place isn’t too far. And you know if you don’t shake him off soon there would be an unpleasant conversation awaiting you when you arrive.  

“ Don’t you have someone waiting on you at the bar?” You remind him with a little sting to your heart. Secretly hoping this wasn’t the reason he’d walk away from you.

Bucky frowns, thinking for a moment before speaking,“ What? You mean Darla?” The sound of her name on his lips bristles you. 

“ Yeah, her,” the word her spills from your lips as if it was venomous. Bucky catches that and is taken aback for a second. His footsteps coming to a stop. You push yourself to keep walking. Taking this as a sign to ignore the tiny part of your brain that begs you to stop moving.

Not a minute later Bucky strides to your side,“ Doll…are you jealous?” He asks with the tiniest bit of doubt, his small smile overshadowing it. 

“ Me? Ha! No,” your denial is quick—too quick. His small smile turns into a wide grin. You’ve just confirmed his conjecture,“ Yes, you are.” 

“ No. Go ahead and marry her for all I care. I won’t be at the wedding anyway,” you don’t mean what you say and yet you said it anyway. Playing up the indifference act you’ve dawned. 

“ You won’t be at my wedding?” He’s not upset when he responds, he's amused. He has to hold back his laughter at your train of thought. This gets under your skin and you grumble a snippy no before picking up your pace. You’re now imagining Darla in a wedding dress next to Bucky in his suit and it does devastating things to you. 

“ That’s impossible.”

“ How so? I just won’t go.”

His tone takes a more serious turn when he replies, “ It’ll be hard to have a wedding without the bride there.” You come to a halt, your head whipping so fast to look at him you almost gave yourself whiplash.

“ What?” You manage to find your voice. His gaze softens,“ You heard me, doll.” He’s being completely sincere—you know this deep down. However, there’s still a part of you that doesn’t believe this is happening. That believes this to be a dream.

“ You don’t mean that.”

“ I do. If you were to ask me where I see forever—I see it with you.”

His confession takes your breath away. The mere admission of him thinking of you as his eternity—as the one he wants beside him for life—your heart could burst at how delightfully overwhelmed it feels. 

“ But you—” you start and his pointer finger gently presses against your lips to shush you. He already knows what you’re about to bring up and he needs to nip it before your drunken mind jumps to wilder conclusions.

“ She’s just a friend. She’s a secretary at the SSR—nothing more. I was dancing with her to be nice. Honestly, I was trying to find a polite way to leave her and get back to you until I saw you dancing with that guy,” he removes his finger from your lips once he’s done explaining. At the mention of Thomas, his jaw clenches briefly and annoyance flashes in his eyes. 

It dawns on you why he was glaring at Thomas earlier. The realization of Bucky having felt as jealous as you did sends your heart ablaze. Your heart had gone through so much tonight, you were surprised it hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest already. 

“ Who’s the jealous one now?” you tease, an almost giddy smile on your face. 

Bucky rolls his eyes playfully,“ Yeah, doll. Unlike you, I’ll admit it. I was jealous. I don’t like seeing you with another man. Laughing and dancing���should've been me, not him,” he says stepping closer to you. His eyes reflected pure adoration.

“ Why didn’t you ask me?” your question comes out quieter than you’d like. Enamored with the way he’s looking at you. You can barely focus on anything else. 

“ Because when it comes to you I get all nervous and worked up. It's like I’m a punk again—a dumb kid with a crush. I don’t want to mess it up with you, Y/n. I would never want to do anything to lose you. Guess I got too caught up in doing things right I didn’t do anything at all,” Bucky opens up to you, his answer shedding away any last bit of hesitance in your body.

“ Bucky…I wish it would’ve been you instead too,” you say softly, stepping closer until you’re only a few inches away from him. His features match yours in fondness as he gently reaches out to grab hold of your waist, pulling you even closer, and closing the final bit of distance between you.

Your hands rest delicately at his chest. You can feel the way his heart races under your fingertips, drawing out a small gasp from you. Knowing you had this effect on him delighted you. It made you wonder how long you had been making him feel this way—and how long you had missed the signs.

“ Told you. I’m a dumb kid with a crush,” he reiterates with a soft chuckle. You giggle at his words, beaming dreamily at the way that all of this is real. That Bucky has feelings for you, and you two can only grow closer from here on out.

For a split second his eyes dart to your mouth. Having you so close like this tempts Bucky to no end. Everything he’s ever wanted to do with you crosses his mind and it drives him crazy. He has no idea where to start or if he’ll even let himself start anywhere. 

Your body thrums with anticipation as it waits for him to make a move.  

Bucky ends up tenderly kissing your forehead, “ Come on, doll. Let’s get you home.” Your lips form a light pout, disappointed his lips didn’t touch yours. He sees your reaction and he laughs, giving your hips a light squeeze, “ Doll, our first kiss will happen after you get that alcohol out of your system,” he says, one hand reaching up to lightly swipe at your nose—finding you endearing. 

“ We’ve already had our first kiss.” 

“ Doll we—oh, we have…” 

The memory of you two drunkenly kissing in the medical tent on one particularly lonely night during the war flashes through your minds. The already tension between you rising to a palpable form. 

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes,“ Still. If I’m being honest, I’m not stopping at just one kiss. So let’s wait until you’re sober, alright?”

“ Not stopping?” Your tone is playful as you pry for further explanation. 

“ Oh no, doll. I'll be doing so much more than kissing you,” he smirks, his words laced with suggestion. His hand goes out to cup your face, caressing your cheek. It warms under his fingertips at his implication. The air around you buzzes with electricity. 

He can tell where your mind went and he’s enjoying every second of it,“ Yeah, doll. Like taking you out on a proper date,” he winks at you. A genuine laugh erupts from you at the way he side steps what he really meant. He joins you in the laughter, his eyes telling you the truth of what he really desires.

You. Every bit of you.

You interlace your fingers with his, knowing deep down he has a point. When you kiss Bucky you want to be all there. You want all your senses to be fully awake to drink in every bit of him. 

Especially if it goes farther than a kiss.

Bucky moves you over so he’s walking on the outermost part of the sidewalk, holding your interlaced hands to his waist so you’re pressed right up against his side as you walk. You tease and playfully banter all the way to your apartment. The unspoken promises and unmistakable yearning for one another dancing around you two. Assuring you there was so much more to come. 

[crappymixtape]

stand on my own

after months of begging, steve finally takes you home to meet his parents – you've been together for over a year and he doesn't talk about them much, but once you meet them you begin to understand why *18+ only | ( 3K words – TW: verbal abuse, almost physical abuse, both from steve's dad – angst, hurt / comfort, sprinkle of fluff, est. relationship, steve x you, steve x reader )

S T A N D O N M Y O W N 🎶 stupid 4 u, dizzy

When you pulled into the Harrington’s driveway, your mouth dropped open at the sheer size of the house. Three times the size of yours growing up with a brand new Porsche parked out front. Steve always told you his dad was materialistic, but he hadn’t said anything about how materialistic or how much someone would have to make to drive a car like that.

Robin had warned you, told you the Harringtons were the pinnacle of Hawkins, Indiana, but if you didn’t grow up with that last name in your mouth, you’d have no idea. No idea of the legacy the Harringtons built after producing generation after generation of lawyers, and why would you? Hawkins was a tiny dot on the map compared to Indianapolis.

You’d moved away from the city in pursuit of a softer life, roomed with Robin Buckley after you’d both been accepted at the local community college and met her best friend – most platonic boyfriend, Steve – on your first night there at a party. He had been standing shoulder-to-shoulder drinking a beer with another guy, Eddie Munson, and both had grease stains all over their pants. In another world, you might have found it a turn-off, but when he caught your eye from across the room you knew you were done for.

Long locks of hair fell into his eyes, his thick lashes sweeping across high cheekbones when he blinked, and the most perfect, pink lips that tugged up at the corner in a grin, grinning at you. High school basketball superstar turned mechanic after getting denied by Indiana State, and damn, it looked good on him.

The day after the party, your car broke down just outside of town, and he came to pick you up in the tow truck with grease-smudged hands and a towel hanging out of the back pocket of his Carhartts. You talked the whole way back to the garage, told him about growing up in the city and how it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. He told you how his favorite thing about Hawkins was the way the sky lit up in the summer right as the sun went down, set to flames as it crept beneath the horizon and you asked him if he’d show you sometime. When you got to the shop he told you he’d personally make sure your car was put back in tip-top shape and then took you for the best milkshake of your life at the diner afterward.

Eddie’s uncle Wayne owned the shop, simply called Munson’s, and had been running it since his old man died back in the 50s. It was the most trusted mechanic south of the city and while it wasn’t glamorous, it was honest work, and Steve liked the people. They were thankful for his help and paid him enough to make a decent living, and there was something about working with his hands that gave Steve a sense of gratification and pride he’d never experienced before. Not stuck behind some desk 9-5 like his dad. He didn’t make hundreds of thousands of dollars or live in a mini-mansion, and even though all that wasn’t important to Steve, it still didn’t make him feel any better as he rumbled into his parents’ driveway.

“Shit,” Steve muttered under his breath as he shifted the truck into park. Running his hands through his hair, he let his head fall forward onto the steering wheel, his nerves palpable from the passenger seat. “I really don’t want to go in there.”

“You’re not going alone, if that’s any consolation?” you offered, gently teasing, rubbing a hand over the soft fabric of the only clean, white t-shirt he owned.

He gave you a lopsided smile and turned the truck off, “That helps a lot.”

“Good.”

The light on the porch flicked on, and it drew Steve’s attention like the snap of a whip.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” you grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed as the front door opened to reveal the portrait of a perfect housewife, Carol Harrington.

“Hi, honey!” she called with a wave, gesturing you to get out of the truck and Steve huffed a heavy sigh.

“Here goes nothing,” he said, expression tinged with dread. With one last glance over at you, he moved to open his door, “Listen, if my dad says anything, I can’t promise I won’t say something back.”

“That makes two of us,” you half-joked, but Steve knew by the look in your eye you were serious. If there was anything you didn’t tolerate, it was demeaning people, and from what Robin said, Gary Harrington had used Steve as his verbal punching bag for most of his life.

You watched as Steve tried to laugh, but it caught in his throat as he pushed himself off the truck bench and out onto the driveway.

“Hey, Mom.”

“I hope you came hungry!” Carol said, wiping her hands on the red, checkered apron tied around her waist. “I made a casserole, a fresh green salad, and those rolls you like so much.”

“Oh–you didn’t have to do all that,” Steve insisted as he met his mom on the steps, his cheeks growing pink under the warm glow of the porch light.

“Of course I did.” Carol pulled her son into a hug, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “And who is this?” she smiled, turning her attention to you, big, blue eyes appraising, trying to decide if you were good enough for her Stevie.

You returned the smile, introducing yourself as Steve shoved his hands into the pockets of his Levis, anxious. The weight of her gaze was heavy and for a minute it shook you, but you doubled down. No one was going to push you around.

“Thank you for having us,” you said genuinely and a pleased look passed over her features.

“Yes, it’s so nice to finally meet you! We’ve been asking Stevie to come to dinner for months now. How’d you convince him?”

“Mom.”

“Okay,” she put her hands up in surrender. “Here, let’s get you two out of the cold. Come in, come in.”

If the outside manicured lawn and award-winning flowerbeds were perfection, then the inside had to have been crafted by God himself.

Every surface was spotless, decorated exquisitely with things you’d only seen in a catalog. Large, smooth, eggshell vases full of bare branches arranged just so, portraits of sweeping landscapes framed in gold and glass candy dishes sat atop polished, mahogany credenzas. As you took it all in, you noticed there were no photos of the family, and in that moment it all felt so empty. Staged and not properly lived in.

“Please, sit! What can I get you to drink?” Carol’s voice interrupted your thoughts and you glanced over to see her holding two bottles of wine. “I’ve got a chilled rosé or a bold red, can’t make a bad choice.”

“Thank you, but water’s fine,” you insisted and a grumble from the head of the dining room table pulled your attention.

Sitting in one of the lavishly, upholstered, high-backed chairs, Steve’s father met your gaze over the top of the newspaper he held in his hands. Folding it up, he set it neatly on the table top and folded his arms over chest, not appraising like Carol. No. This was judgement, cold and severe.

“Not a drinker, hm?” he drawled and you felt Steve tense at your side.

“One of us needs to be responsible,” you quipped back, half-joking and taking Steve’s hand in yours. It’s okay.

The older man snorted in reply and took up the tumbler of scotch at the side of his table setting. Before you could reply, Carol jumped in in an attempt to settle the already blooming tension.

“So, what do you do, dear? Stevie tells us you’re in school!” she asked, setting a hot casserole at the center of the table.

“Oh,” fell out, clumsy as the attention fully focused on you, “I’m uh–I’m pursuing a degree in the arts.”

“The arts! How wonderful!” Carol gushed, returning from the kitchen with a basket of rolls and glass, bowl of salad. “Literature or teaching? Some noble profession surely,” she said, tone oozing and saccharine sweet.

“Ceramics,” you replied tensely, wanting to be embarrassed, but refusing to give them the satisfaction. “I’m actually hoping to open my own studio someday.”

You’d barely finished your sentence when your ears caught Gary mumbling something about hippies and Steve’s mouth firmed into a flat line.

“Dad.”

“What?” Gary snipped back, taking another drink of his scotch as Carol pushed you both into your chairs. “It’s not a very common profession to get into. How’d you find it anyway?” Gary asked, feigning interest, but you could hear the skepticism.

Sitting a bit taller in your chair you leaned forward, chin tilted up in confidence, You can’t scare me.

“I’m originally from Indianapolis, but I came out here looking for something a little…slower. It’s a bit too busy up there for me. Mom was hoping I’d follow in her footsteps up there as a doctor, but–”

“Now see, that’s real work!” Gary said, leaning forward to match you. He shook his head, clicking his tongue at you. “Throwing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity away.”

“Dad!” Steve protested again from his chair next to you, the tension pulling taut in the air.

“Gary,” Carol cut in, eyes on her plate and not meeting the look her husband was giving her. “That’s enough. I’m sure she has good reason.“ Taking the serving spoon she started to dish everyone up. “How’s work going for you, Stevie?”

A heavy sigh pushed itself from Steve’s lungs and he closed his eyes for a minute. You could tell he was uncomfortable and for a minute you regretted making him do this. Taking his hand under the table you squeezed, reassuring, and he opened his eyes again to look at you in silent thanks.

“Uh…yeah,” he started, regaining his composure. “It’s good. Eddie and I are pretty busy right now. Wayne’s showing me how to do the books, actually.”

“Oh! Well, that’s wonderful!” Carol said with a comforting smile as she dished up her husband. “Isn’t that wonderful, Gary?”

“Wonderful isn’t the word I’d choose,” Gary sneered and Carol elbowed his shoulder.

“Behave,” she tutted.

“Actually, Wayne says he’s gonna retire soon,” Steve said sitting up a little taller and your stomach flipped over.

You’d talked on the way over about not sharing any of the news about the shop with them. Promised you wouldn’t say a word about it because it would only make things worse, but you watched now as Steve put it all on the table. Brave. Confident. Proud.

A vein bulged in the middle of Gary’s forehead.

“He’s leaving it to Eddie and–well, Eddie asked if I want to be his business partner. I haven’t signed the paperwork yet, but I’m going to. I want to. I think it’ll be good for–

“Absolutely not! Over my dead body,” Gary slammed a hand flat against the table and you flinched at the force of it, silverware clattering metallically against the fine china.

“It’s a good business, Dad, with a solid client list,” Steve pushed, “I make more than enough to–”

“You think you can convince me?” Gary growled, a sardonic smile twisting across his lips. “You wanna end up like the Munsons? Living like trailer trash?” The smile disappeared. “Jesus Steven, you’ve got a family business right here — your legacy — and you’re shitting all over it! For what? Some filthy garage?”

Carol’s face was as white as a sheet as Gary dug in and she put a hand on his shoulder, “Gary, please–”

“No, Carol. I’m not done,” he shrugged her off and stood from his chair. “That family has done nothing but produce a long line of losers,” he said, pointing a finger off out the dining room window toward Forest Hills. “Edward’s father was a drunk and that kid is one disaster away from drinking what little money he has. I mean, look at him! He’s always high, driving around town in that piece of shit van with hair down to his ass and–”

“Shut up!”

Steve stood up then and slapped the palms of his hands against the table, making you flinch again, your heart leaping into your throat as you watched him glare at his father, flushed and red from his neck to his ears, his hair falling into his eyes.

“Stevie–” Carol pleaded, but he ignored her.

“God, I’m so tired of it,” Steve roughed his hands over his face, flinging an arm in the same direction his father had. Toward Eddie, his partner, his best friend. “The Munsons work really hard! And they’re honest, which can’t be said for you,” he pushed, Gary’s face twisting ugly as Steve laid into him. “Lying and cheating people for what, huh? For money? For a Porche?”

“You watch your mouth,” Gary said a little too evenly and unease settled in your stomach.

“No. I’m not gonna sit here and let you lecture me about something you know nothing about. When was the last time you really felt proud, Dad? Like you accomplished something?”

“Every day!” Gary snapped, “When I sit at my desk and look at the framed degree on my wall because I did something with my life, Steven!” He pushed his chair out behind him and took a half step around the table toward his son. “I’ve become someone and made a name for myself! I support my wife because I’m a man,” he emphasized his point with a finger to Steve’s chest and you watched as Steve’s body grew stiff, hands balled into fists at his sides.

“Yeah, well based on the flashy sports car in the driveway I’d say you’re compensating.”

“That’s enough!”

Gary stepped into Steve, Steve’s back bumping into the wall and it pulled you up from your seat while Carol shrunk into hers, head buried in her hands.

“You ungrateful little shit,” Gary spat, “You’re being handed an opportunity on a silver platter and spitting on it. How dare you—”

“No, dad! How dare you?” Steve shoved a hand flat into his dad’s chest and the older man stumbled back a step. “I bring home the most important person in my life to meet you, and you can’t even keep it together for more than five minutes! It’s embarrassing. You’re embarrassing. Let’s go.”

Steve grabbed your hand and started to pull you toward the door, food untouched on the table, but Gary took a half-step into your path of escape.

“You’ll stay until you apologize,” he growled.

Steve laughed incredulously. “Apologize? For what? For telling you what we already know? That you’re a selfish asshole?”

“What did I say about language?” Gary returned the shove Steve had given him, but Steve didn’t move.

“Honey, stop. Please,” Carol begged her husband from the table, but her pleas were ignored.

“My entire life, all you’ve been is gone," Steve leveled. "You were never there for me, especially when I needed you the most, and, honestly? I don’t care what you think, Dad. Not anymore.” Steve pushed himself to his full height, at least a full two inches taller than his father, and shouldered past him, “We’re out of here.”

“Stevie, sweetheart don’t go,” Carol finally stood from her chair, coming around to paw at Steve’s back. “You know how he gets, he just needs to walk it off—“

“—stop making excuses for him, mom. He doesn’t deserve it and you deserve better.”

Carol kept grabbing at him and it made something snap inside you.

“Don’t touch him,” you said firmly, pressing a hand into hers and tugging it away from Steve. The look on her face then was like you’d slapped her and a tiny pinch of guilt squeezed in your chest, but Gary made sure to fix that, his voice at your backs.

“If you leave, that’s it, Steven! Game over!” he shouted.

“I don’t want it, Dad.”

“I’m serious! One more step and you’re written out of the company!” Gary said just as you both reached the door, Steve’s hand on the handle as he spun around to make sure he made eye contact with his dad.

“Where’s the paper? I’ll write it myself!” Steve snapped and for the first time that evening Gary was rendered speechless, mouth dropped open in shock. “If you break down, don’t call me.”

Pride swelled in your chest and you had to keep from whooping and hollering right there in the foyer, but as soon as you both were safely on the other side of the thick, wooden, double doors you flung your arms around him.

“Holy shit, babe,” you breathed, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the warm, citrusy scent of his cologne setting you at ease as his arms squeezed at your waist. Pulling away, you clasped his face between your hands. “First? I’m so sorry,” you said, shaking your head, running your thumb gently over his cheek, “And second? You were amazing in there, standing up for yourself.”

Steve turned a deep shade of pink, clearing his throat as his eyes dropped down to look at his shoes. “No way, that was awful.”

“It was,” you agreed, leading him slowly back to the truck, “But I’ve never seen you defend yourself, your hard work, like that. It’s not something to disregard.”

“You think so?” he asked the steering wheel after settling onto the bench seat next to you, the truck rumbling to life when he turned the key over.

Lifting a hand to the strong line of his jaw you gently turned his head to look at you.

“I know so,” you said softly, “And I love you and the way you take care of me, so damn much.”

His lashes fluttered, blinking away the starts of his tears, and smiled through it. No one had ever stood by his side the way you had just now. Had pushed through all the bullshit from his family and didn't shy away from it all. It meant more to him than he could ever put into words, so he settled for the truth.

“I love you too," he said, leaning into you with a hand pressed to your thigh and holding your cheek in his other. “I love you,” he said again, a soft whisper as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I love you,” another to your cheek. “I love you,” his mouth meeting the corner of yours. “I love you,” his bottom lip catching yours perfectly, sweetly, “I love you.”

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[8thekat]

❤️ Seventh Soul Comic Masterpost 🤍

Here's a little masterpost where I'll link the start of the comic series as well as character sheets 😎

👉 Start reading Seventh Soul here! 👈

Summary:

Seventh Soul is an original story loosely based off the Undertale universe.

When Sans stumbles upon a mysterious locked door as a child, he discovers not only a best friend, but the very thing the entire Underground has been desperately searching for - a human. Even though life ends up taking an unexpected turn for the worst - like most of the Underground being drafted into the Royal Guard, including Sans himself - Sans is determined to protect his human friend and help her get back to the surface, no matter the cost.

🌐Seventh Soul Wiki🌐

______________

Linktree • Patreon • DeviantArt • Discord • Webtoon • Tapas

👇 Character Sheets and Bonus Content 👇 (expand to view the list)

* Sans * Papyrus * Frisk * Gaster * Toriel * Undyne * Doggo * Dizzy * Grillby

Bonus stuff:

🛡️ Royal Guard Armor Diagram

💚Seventh Soul OC - Ellipsis (Sans and Paps' Mom) 🎶Seventh Soul Sans Battle Theme Song

🎶Seventh Soul Theme Song

🧠Seventh Soul Quiz

🦴Seventh Soul Dust (a Dusttale AU novel)

[natsuyuki-w]

Not one of the boys

Twisted wonderland cast realizes that (Yuu) is a girl.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Featuring: Lilia - Kalim and Jamil - Vil, Epel and Rook

- See you tomorrow! - I waved the ghosts at the cafeteria. "Yass pay day as come again!" I cheered while making my way to the dorm. The corridor was empty except for a student at the end walking in my opposite direction.

All of a sudden he slowed down and started to wobble. I rushed as fast as I could catching him just in time. - Uff - he fell face front in my arms, and I stumbled a little, needing to pull my all strength to support his limp body. - mmmm - he fought the dizziness but his lids refused to stay open slowly covering his lilac irises. - I'll bring you to the infirmary ,... - - Mmmm, no infirmary...father. - - Ehm... Maybe not? - I chuckled - Poor thing... I'm afraid is going to be quite difficult bringing you home in short terms. - and I tried shifting him better for the carrying.

- Smell...good - "Did he just nuzzled in my chest????" - Ha ha ha... l-let's go you need some sugar in your system. - "If I'm lucky enough, his brain is too turned off to..." - mmmm...A girl? - never mind.

- Is the feeling of dizziness getting better? - I asked deflecting the topic, but no responses came out. - Damn it!!! He passes out. - Starting to drag him I searched in every pocket anything useful and noticed "his colors". - Diasomnia eh? Can you tell me your name? - but again nothing came out of his mouth. - Uff we are almost *gnh there - I pulled resisting his full weight.

---

Once arrived, the stuff helped me carry him to bed and informed me of his predicament. Apparently he was often found sleeping around. - So it's rather narcolepsy then dizziness... must be hard. - Sitting on his bed I tried to talk testing again if he was gaining cautiousness.

Looking down his sleeping face, I hummed a little tune inspired by his predicament - 🎶 I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream, I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam... 🎶 - -... Thank you...princess Aurora. - he murmured, held out weakly his hand to then falling down my arm in the trajectory.

*girly squeaks I got up covering my red face. - Is he awake? - came back one of the nurses. I shook my head and ran passed them - Thank you for your work, please take care of him I'm going to inform his dorm mates. - I quickly dismissed myself.

---

In Diasomnia's lounge I found a solitary green haired boy, seemingly able to solely communicate in screeches. He started from the moment he lent eyes on me and continued till we parted ways.

- Goodness... I'm going to lay down myself... It was exhausting. - hopefully sleeping beauty in the confusion would forget about our encounter.

Swimwear fiasco

- Oasi maker! - exclaimed Kalim. - Come on (Yuu) let's enjoy the water!- encouraged the bubbly boy. - Oh no I... Can't.- I sat on the border enjoying the coolness with my feet. After the exhausting week, it would've been a blessing, but I knew better then risk once again my identity.

- But you said you love swimming...- - I did... But I'm... very tired from all the training we did, I'll just stay here for a while...- - But water is very helpful! It relaxes all your muscles. - he insisted. - Koebi-chaan... Let's go in the water. You'll make the baby otter cry. - teased Floyd, knowing Exactly why I didn't want to swim. - I-I don't even have swimwear. I can't. - - Y-yeah exactly Floyd don't insist, sh..he can't ha-ha.- laughed Azul awkwardly realizing the predicament of me in a swimsuit.

- Don't worry Prefect! - smiled brightly Kalim taking his thumb and middle finger together. - Here you...- - NO!!! - I quickly stood up, but my protest came late. * snap Red swim boxers with flames lay lower than my navel, showing in full display the tight sports bra that flatted my chest.

Azul shrieked and covered his eyes immediately, his face redder than his sunburn. Floyd and Jade instead watched all too attentively with wide grins. Grim started to laugh at my yet another involuntary revealing and Jamil stepped back in disbelief and completely flustered covered his eyes like the Octavinelle's head.

Kalim directly in front of me, was staring, his brain fused and mouth half agape. - Sigh... Don't be so shocked, I'm not naked.- and I grabbed my shirt from the boy's hand. - Come on, you're all reacting like you've never seen a girl in your life. - and then I mumbled - I'm not even that good-looking.- - Awwww that's not true Shrimpy,...*uf why already covering? - lamented Floyd. - HORNY JAIL FOR YOU!- I snapped.

- B-b-b since...when? Y-you ...I - Kalim became a mumbling mess. - Oh you know, it's the cold water. - I joked (to myself because nobody knew about Ranma 1/2). - For real??? - exclaimed him, incapable of understanding sarcasm. - No...No darling, since the first day here, I've always been a girl, but Crowley asked me to hide it. - and then I mumbled - Definitely harder than I thought keeping this a secret.-

- Excuse me on Kalim's behalf. - intervened Jamil still not looking at me from embarrassment. - I'M SO SORRY (YUU). - cried the boy, opened arms ready for his usual hugs but stopped unsure. I smiled and closed the gap to squeeze and pat his back. - Don't worry I'm not mad, fortunately, it all turned out...decently - at least I wasn't naked - Only thing I ask of you: don't tell anyone, plz. And look at the positive: now I can swim!-

- NOOO!!!- protested Azul turning into an even deeper shade of red. - YEES!!! - exclaimed instead Floyd and Kalim, the kid quickly recovering from the shock. - Tho I can't give you the clothes...my magic is not that good- muttered soon after. - Ah, no no I can go like this! Sure is a bit stuffy but it can work. - - (Yuu), I can procure you proper wearing if you want. - invited Jade with an evil smile. - Nah, thx -

---

We enjoyed the water for a while till I heard someone screaming out of breath from afar. - Hm? Someone's running from across the desert. - I looked where Grim was pointing and saw my favorite bromance. - Heeeey Prefect, Griiim - - Are you guys alive? - Deuce was ready to throw fists. - Hey guys! What happened to you? Decided to come back ear... - - Whaddya mean " What happened to us"? What the hell happened to you? - Angrily inquired Ace. - As soon as we got your "We're locked up in Scarabia" message...-

- Oooh right...I'm sorry guys! Grim suggested to contact you but after we were so caught up with the all thing...- you excused - Tho... Awww were you worried about us? Such good friends!... Ace, only at times. - - WHAAAT? We freaking public transported here! The mirror warp is not opened yet. -

- It seems you solved the situation well. I'm glad you are... - Deuce noticed my fewer garments. - So... They found out too eh?- inquired Ace. - Come on come on! - I grabbed their hands dismissing quickly the topic - the water is so good, you came all the way here, now relax and I'll fetch'ya with ALL the dits. - The raven head looked vacantly before him in shock. - Yeah, I'm going to take a good soak, but I need more than relaxing. You better prepare a cocktail for all the scare you gave us. - - Perfect! Kalim, can you please do the *snap on them?- I shouted.

To be young

- But I thought you didn't bring a swimsuit (Yuu). - asked the ghosts. I groaned in response and stayed behind to admire the Winter Wonderland. - Gyahahhahaa, she didn't but...- and the cat started narrating my misadventure.

- Oooh would you look at that? So you have finally come back - in front of my face, a boy with black and pink hair flew upside down. - Whaaa! You scared the crap outta me! - then I looked at his face better and snapped repeatedly my fingers - What was your name....- - I'm...- - No no no! Wait. I have it...- - Fufufufu suit yourself. - he shrugged - You're a curious thing indeed...Not only you managed to catch his attention, but you're also an infiltrated girl. - smiled chuckling. - Aaaand here goes my identity... again. -

With his face so close I got a little starstruck and absentmindedly I recapped - Big eyes, pointy champers, always upside down, great hearing,... You truly are like a pretty bat... LILIA! YESSS I knew I had it! - and held my fist victorious.

He flinched - That's...- and exploded in a long laugh lowering to the ground - Why yes-and-thank -you! - he closed the distance again, his face inches from mine - You're quite the charmer. - He lightly gasped - Uh boy! Perhaps you may be...his first crush? - and his expression turned into a teasing grin. - Wha...?- - Awww to be young,... Here, I've come to deliver a holiday card addressed to you from a Certain individual. I wonder if he knows you're a girl...- and he passed me the envelope closed by a golden sigil.

- A Certain individual... - the only Diasomnia kid I knew was Tsunotaro. - M.D...- I glared at the card in search of answers, Lilia looking expectingly. - He was sulking since he wasn't invited to any holiday parties this year. - - Oh really? I hope he'll spend a wonderful vacation either way. Next time we prepare something I shall invite him. Tho... He has you,... right?- He smiled warmly and nodded - Yes we kept him company, but I think he will appreciate your sentiment. - I nodded looking again at the message.

- Ah-ha! Of course M.D: My Dearest! - I translated - Awww that's cute, send him my gratitude, he's dear to me as well...I think. I'm still not sure we are talking about the same person.-

And for 5 minutes straight, he laughed at my expenses.

Femboy

- I think you can see it well from him. - lectured Vil to the rebellious kid. - Tho still a bit of a potato, but he has embraced his cuteness with both masculine and feminine traits. - - W- wait... are you talking about me? - I finally realized. - Who else, Manager? - - I... well, you see...- - Schoenheit-senpai the Prefect is not...- - That... Feminine. - interrupted Ace before Deuce could spill the secret to yet another person. With all those people finding out, he had forgotten about his promise.

"If I tell those two now..." but my thoughts got interrupted. - I think a practical demonstration would be the best solution to get through this thick head of his.- Epel's brows twitched, he didn't seem much inclined to the idea and found a way to change the topic.

---

- And now? What should I do? - I asked Rook. - How would Epel react after seeing that my "femininity" is in fact because I'm a woman? - - Mmm, I see,...it is quite troublesome.- he took a hand under his chin.- You could reverse the perspective, Trickster! - and pointed back at me. - ...- - I did't doubt you being a boy the first time I saw you, and the others too. -

Apparently, curious of our interest in the challenge, he made his research (stalking) and had confessed his discovery when my friends asked to apply to the selection.

"Aaaah so you are not applying Trickster? I guess it's unfortunate but inevitable. After all, you couldn't risk your identity being revealed in the presence of the other academies."

- Mmmmm... So like, emphasize that I'm a manly girl? - - ...Not exactly what I meant, but yes. You're remarkably beautiful in disguise and not.- - At...well. Wow, thank you! I guess,...uff wow... is it hot in here? - I exclaimed closing the conversation fast to hide my rosy cheeks.

---

- See you this evening! - I saluted. - Have fun, but be there on time for preparing dinner, okay Manager? - inquired Vil. - Don't worry (Yuu), today I'll help you too so you can arrive a little later. - reassured Epel. - Sweet ~ Thank you so much I really appreciate it! -

- Where are you going (Yuu)? - came after me Kalim. - Shopping! Cater has been asking me to go for a while - Since the tie-reveal, the third year had been throwing "girly" dates ideas from time to time - Today my hard-earned savings are going to be put to good use... On myself! And dorms fixing obv. - since my interlocutor seemed giddy I asked - Wanna join? - - YES...- - I'm afraid not, Kalim. - inquired Jamil. - You have been neglecting your study for long enough using training as an excuse. We need to make up for lost time. -

- Ack... Sorry love - I pet his white hair, the poor Scarabia's leader totally drained from enthusiasm. - Good luck then but please, take some rest you all! You too Jamil! - I glared. - Bye (Yuu) have a nice day. - waved me off with a smile the Vice dorm leader.

---

A few hours later we were strolling the streets ogling the shop windows -...something like that, you know? - I chatted explaining my plan to Cater. - I like the idea very much and I'll help you for sure! - he winked - I'm so happy you accepted! When we'll be back, I'll show Trey some peeks of our date juust to tease him. He's going to be so jealous! - he smiled mischievously pulling his phone out. -Hahahaa what are you talking about? Don't be silly. - I shook my head - But yes! If you could lend a hand I would reeeally appreciate it.-

---

The day passed by smoothly and after some last touches of light makeup at Heartlabyul, I was ready to put my plan in motion.

I entered the door and greeted everyone with nonchalance. - Hii (Yuu)...Wooow! Your shopping went well! - gawked Kalim. - Hahahaha thank you! Pretty neat yeah? Cater is a good consultant I have to admit it. - - You look good, the jacket is dope! - Epel's ruder self slipped out but Vil's glare was an immediate shut down. - Wanna try? - I tugged the collar. He nodded and I slipped off the piece of garment to rest it on his shoulder.

Silence broke down.

Under the masculine attire, I wore a fitting cropped corset, hugging nicely my shape. -..but..you..- Epel blushed then frowned. Many things ran through his head. Kalim was going to cover me but I quickly stopped his track with a reassuring smile. Behind him Ace threw a teasing roll of his eyes. Meaning: show-off. Deuce blush inevitably came out and Jamil was the most flustered of them all. He was still recovering from the swimwear trauma. Vil on the other hand, after the first surprise, soon recomposed himself. He knew what transsexuality was after all. - Magnifique, c'est très flatteuse.- admired Rook.

- Sorry Epel and Vil, I never told you I'm a girl. - I confessed meeting the azure eyes of the boy before me. The look in them wavered in a mix of fluster and betrayal. I explained the all Crowley ordeal and my motives - I know I could've just stayed silent, but it didn't sit right to me. Especially when Vil's point seemed completely contradicted by the reality. But Rook... - - *Sigh, of course, you knew - commented Vil. - ...Rook told me I could make the same point out of my situation. I hope it reached. But mostly, I hope we can still be friends. - and I surpassed the first year with a pat on the shoulder. - Do you still wanna help? - and after a bit of pondering the boy silently nodded.

- I... Don't know what's right or wrong and I am not truly sure how to face this, but I do want to be friends. - spoke after we finished. I smiled brightly and responded- I'm glad. - and smiling back he went out to settle the table.

- Now I understand why you didn't even try the audition. - Vil posed at the entry. - Yep. The headmaster prohibited "too much exposure" especially for an event that invites all the other academies. - He nodded. - The attire suits you, by the way, it makes you look handsome. - and he left.

"VIL SHONEHEIT THINKS I'M HANDSOME."

The pairing of the names Kalim+Jamil is so amusing to me, and I always mix them up. (Jalim, Kamil) The ship is so strong it comes naturally.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

[pupsmailbox]

CLOWN︰JESTER ID PACK

NAMES︰ ace. anticette. apple. arcade. aster. astucieux. astuto. astuzia. august. balloonette. bandit. battutista. bennett. bingo. birthdae. blossom. bob. bobbie. bobby. boink. bon. bonnie. bozo. buddy. buttercup. button. buzz. calypso. carnival. casper. circus. circusse. cirque. clerihew. clown. clownesse. clownette. comet. comic. commedia. confetti. cory. cosmo. crayon. dainty. daisie. daisy. dash. dewey. dex. dexter. ditzie. ditzy. dizzy. doll. dolos. doodle. dot. dottie. emery. emil. espie. finn. fizz. flynn. fool. foolette. frills. giggles. giullare. glitter. gracie. gwen. harlequin. harlette. harley. imp. jaspers. jesse. jessie. jest. jester. jesteresse. jesterette. jesterlita. jestesse. jestette. jett. jill. jingle. jinx. joker. jokesse. jokesy. jokette. jolly. joy. joyce juice. jupiter. ken. kip. kipper. kite. kizzy. lala. lolli. lulu. madeline. maeve. marionette. marjorie. maverick. merry. milo. mimi. nifty. pagliaccio. paint. pantin. parade. patches. pendolo. pierre. pierro. pierrot. pigeon. piper. polka-dot. polka. polkadot. poppy. puzzle. quin. quinn. quinny. raspberry. ribbon. ribbonne. riley. rio. rocket. rogue. ruffle. sally. scooter. scout. scribble. sekai. sketch. skippy. skittle. snicker. soda. spade. spark. sparks. sprinkle. squeak. squiggle. stitch. stitches. streamer. sunbeam. sunny. sunray. taffy. tally. terach. tessa. tetris. titter. toby. tommy. triboulet. tricheur. trick. trickesse. trickette. trix. trixie. tryck. tryx.. tune. twinkle. twirl. wendy. whimsy. yippie. zane. zang. zany. ziggy.

PRONOUNS︰ aah/aah. an/antic. animal/cracker. balloon/balloon. bard/bard. be/bell. blast/blast. bo/bounce. boing/boing. boop/boop. bri/bright. bright/bright. card/card. chi/chime. circus/circuse. clown/clow. clown/clown. co/color. co/colorful. co/comedy. co/comical. colour/colour. color/color. comic/comic. comic/comical. costume/costume. dot/dot. egg/egg. ent/entertain. fo/fool. fool/fool. fu/fun. fun/fun. giggle/giggle. h!!/h!!m. ha/ha. harley/harlequin. he/hem. honk/honk. hu/humor. h☆/h☆m. h⭐/h⭐m. ip/ip. jest/jest. jester/jester. ji/jingle. jingle/jangle. jinx/jinxe. jo/joke. jo/joker. jo/jokester. jo/joy. joke/joke. joke/joker. joke/jokester. jol/jolly. juggle/juggle. jump/jump. ki/kit. kit/kit. la/laugh. la/laughter. laugh/laugh. light/light. mi/mime. mim/mime. mis/mischief. mrrp/mrrp. party/party. pattern/pattern. paw/paw. perform/perform. perform/performer. pip/pip. pla/play. pla/playful. play/play. pom/pom. pop/pop. pos/posse. prank/prank. prank/prankster. pun/pun. pup/pup. quip/quip. rainbow/rainbow. ruse/ruse. sh!!/h!!r. shine/shine. sho/show. sh☆/h☆r. sh⭐/h⭐r. si/silly. silly/silly. smile/smile. sparkle/sparkle. splat/splat. squee/squee. star/star. suit/suit. ted/teddy. th!!y/th!!m. th☆y/th☆m. th⭐y/th⭐m. topsy/turvy. trick/trick. trick/trickster. vex/vexe. wah/waah. wi/witty. wit/wit. wonder/wonder. yip/yip. yip/yippee. zi/zir. ☀️. ⚘️. ✨. ❗. 🃏. 🌈. 🌻. 🍌. 🍭. 🎁. 🎂. 🎆. 🎈. 🎉. 🎊. 🎠. 🎡. 🎢. 🎪. 🎭. 🎵. 🎶. 🐾. 💡. 💦. 💫. 📯. 🔊. 🔔. 🖍. 🖍️. 🗯. 😜. 🤡. 🥳. 🧁. 🧨. 

[starleska]

Hi. You don’t know me (lie) could you write a drabble about Maestro coercing you to sing Phantom of the Opera style, you know the “you’re all mine” kind of thing

ohhhh yes of course i can 😉 i have never seen Phantom of the Opera, so i am substituting it for Poor Unfortunate Souls in The Little Mermaid 😂💖 this is suggestive! content warnings for invasion of personal space, being tied up, and threats 😉

Open Wide - Maestro x Reader 🎶💖

"The time to sing is now, darling—and I won't take NO for an answer!" Thick musical staffs made living encased your body, mummifying you and compressing your ribcage to the point of pain. Helpless, you'd dangled for hours and screamed 'til your throat turned raw. But such sounds were appetisers to an entity like Maestro: a monster in a conductor's gown, with a face beat for a god.

"But I can't..." you whimpered. "But I CAN'T~!" Maestro wheedled back in an exaggerated mockery of your voice. "Don't lie to me, sweetie. I can see all that delicious music of yours...it's all knotted up inside you, juuuuust here!" Maestro tapped your chest with the tip of their baton, and a cruel smirk graced their flawless lips. "Such...delicate songs," they whispered. "Almost as fragile as the body they were made in. Far too breakable for me to extract...so we're doing this the old-fashioned way." Maestro's voice lilted and purred like the ocean caressing a wayward ship, and with the same amount of danger. Their register waxed and waned between high and low, sharp and dull, girlish and masc, in a dizzying concord which made heat bloom in your cheeks. Up close, you found it difficult to focus on Maestro at all. It's as if the gorgeous ginger bombshell speaking those words was but a lure on an anglerfish, and the real Maestro sat contained within that honey-nectar voice. Your resolve weakened. Distantly, you heard Maestro laugh in a raucous way: the drunken laugh of tavern songs. The next time you blinked, Maestro loomed in front of you, their eyes heavy-lidded and their lips all plush and coy. "Why don't you open that pretty little mouth for me, sugar~?" Maestro didn't give you time to reply. They shoved their exquisitely manicured nails into the crevices of your cheeks and pried apart your lips, like they wanted to crawl down your throat. You gasped and tried to kick back, but Maestro was too quick for you: another musical staff lashed out like a whip and bound you at the knees.

"NO!"

The violence of Maestro's yell mere inches from your face made you cringe. Your whole body tensed, then slackened. Shuddering breaths left your open mouth as Maestro's thumb slipped inside and pressed down against your tongue. You stared into their wide, wild eyes, and saw a madness within Maestro which no song could ever contain. "Try that again, and I promise you, I will drain you dry of everything that makes you human. Understood?" Your heart hammered in your throat. Saliva gathered around the intruding digit in your mouth, and you fought every impulse to close your lips around it. Horrified, you nodded. "Now." Maestro's voice teetered with rage. "Say aaaaaa." "Aaa-aaaa-aaaaah~!" And you sang. Somehow, the most stunning melody poured from your previously untalented mouth. Maestro slipped their index and middle fingers past your lips and began massaging your tongue whilst tapping their nails against your teeth. With each slight manipulation of your mouth, Maestro altered the pitch, cadence, and beauty of your voice. It was the most wonderful thing you'd ever heard. You felt like you might pass out. How were you capable of singing like this?! "Mmm~," Maestro murmured approvingly. "There we go. That wasn't so tough, was it, babycakes~? I don't know how you could be so shy with such an...irresistible voice..." Maestro's staffs squeezed you on irresistible, and a full-body shudder wracked your insides, sending a tremor through your still-singing mouth. Hunger flashed in Maestro's eyes, and a wolfish grin cracked the symmetry of their lipstick. "I wonder what you taste like~?"

[presidentlokis-hornyhelmet]

Holding On

Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar x gn!reader Summary: You had been his first -first friend, first crush, first kiss, first person to know his alter-ego.. You had been his everything and he lost you. Warnings: Major Character Death, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Angst, Jealousy (pt 2 to "Six Feet's Never Felt So Far" but can be read as a standalone too)

Also read on ao3

🎶🎵 I'm still holding on to everything that's dead and gone Here I am alone, between the heavens and the embers 🎶🎵 In The Stars by Benson Boone

Pavitr clutched your photo tightly in his hands and hugged it to his chest, tears streaming down his face as he stared blankly at the ceiling. The sound of the fan was the only indicator of life in the room. His eyes caught on it's dizzying rotation, face stoic and expressionless. His heart wasn't broken, it was ripped out of his chest and burnt right before his eyes. 

It'd been six months, but to Pavitr, Y/n's death felt like only yesterday. 

Pavitr had refused to believe your were gone. He even went about seeming unaffected or "moved on" but in reality, it was just denial. Deny, deny and keep denying. Until the 13th day ritual of Preta Karma -a ceremony where rites are performed in honour of the late family member and prayers are done. 

He broke down, refusing to attend the ceremony. He was only invited as Y/n's best friend as their relationship had been a secret -known to none else except Gayatri- which hurt even more. 

And, in the months that followed, Pavitr had refused to leave his room unless it was for school or superheroing, grieving and mourning your love in silence. 

He tried to distract himself with Spider-Man-ing through Mumbattan, as Gayatri suggested, but ultimately failed. It felt like a chore now that you were gone. 

"Y/n will always be with us in spirit, Pavi. What would N/n think if they saw you like this? You know, they would want you to be happy.. not, not destroy yourself." 

It was true what Gayatri had said, Pavitr was destorying himself mentally and physically by skipping meals or over eating, playing Benson Boone's In The Stars in an endless loop as he laid on his bed and stared at the ceiling passively. 

You had been the light in his darkness after the death of Uncle Bhim. Back then he dealt his uncle's death the same way: starvation, overeating, locking himself in his room and refusing to interact. 

It was you who reached through the dark web he'd woven around himself and pulled him out, helped him through his guilt and depression. 

"How long are you going to stay like this, lying in your room and staring at the fan?" 

He moved not a muscle, but you knew he was listening. 

"You know, Pavu, uncle Bhim would hate to see you this way."

Still no reply. You sighed and combed your fingers through his hair, pulling his hair in a soothing motion. He turned his face in your lap, eyes sore and dry as dull brown orbs greeted yours. His face was blank and devoid of emotion as if he lost the will to live. 

This won't do. 

This boy had to get up and move on; even Maya aunty was concerned. She had accepted her husband's death and come to terms a while later, but Pavitr stubbornly refused to let go. 

You caught his gaze, gently leaning into him. When he made no notion to move, you pressed your lips to his, kissing him softly. 

Pavitr was slow to realize you were kissing him but when he eventually caught it, he reciprocated fervently. 

You pulled away, breathing hard. His eyes opened slowly, watching you with dilated pupils. 

"You... kissed me." 

"Yeah..", you blushed slightly, "I.. I hated seeing you down in the dumps.. you really need to move on, Pavu. Bhim uncle wouldn't want you to look so sad." 

"You kissed me." 

"Yeah, I did- but, please, don't think I'm taking advantage of you", you add quickly. 

He knows you didn't; he knows you better than he knows himself. 

"Pavu, you need to get up and get back. I'm not asking you to become the Old Pavitr, but I want you to accept Uncle Bhim's death and move on. I know it's hard, but promise me you'll try." 

The fact you were crushing on him went over his head at that moment, but he had plenty of time to realize it later. 

Though his smile didn't fully reach his eyes, you were content with any reaction other than blankness. Baby steps. 

"I will try, N/n." For you. 

You hardly expected the drastic change. Pavitr got up early the next day, showered, did laundry, recited prayer and left the room. When you came to check on him later, you found him doing chores around the house, his room spick and span. Uncle Bhim's photo on the wall was neatly adorned with flowers and incense sticks, to your delight. Maya aunty was so happy and silently thanked you. 

He kept his long hair as you suggested, as a sign of growth and to never forget what the past taught him. For Bhim Uncle. 

It was the first ever you saw him smile after Uncle Bhim's demise. And, maybe you didn't know, but it was because of you: his sun. 

Pavitr rolled over on the bed, clutching the framed photo to his chest and stared at your bright orbs in the picture. It was taken on his birthday last year. 

You had begun to spend more time with Hari Oberoi recently and it was nagging Pavitr. He knew you guys were just as much as friends as he and Hari were, and he knew you only had platonic feelings for him, but jealousy reared it's ugly head. 

It's been a week and you have refused to spend more than fifteen minutes alone with him and he was getting increasingly anxious. 

Did you not like him anymore? Did you suddenly realize you have feelings for Hari? Are you going to break up with him? Is that why you won't hang out with him anymore, to let him down gently? 

A million questions plaguing his mind and everytime he saw Hari with his arm around you, he felt lost, betrayed and jealous. Hari was stealing you from him. 

"Who are you texting, Y/n?", he asked the next time you met, eating pani puri from a street vendor. 

Had you been aware, you would've noticed him not calling you the usual nickname. 

"No one." 

His heart broke into peices, because isn't that what you say when you're seeing some one else? 

He was just about to ask you the same when you stood up from your table and paid for your snack, asking him to meet you later that evening on your usual spot before disappearing into the crowd. 

It was confirmed. You were breaking up. 

The whole afternoon, Pavitr talked to himself on the different ways he'd convince you, eventually giving up and deciding to just accept it. 

It was half-past the time you had agreed to meet when Pavitr got dressed and put on somewhat decent clothes. He opened the door of his room, sad and hopeless, only to be greeted by Hari holding a giant cake. Maya aunty, you and Gayatri were standing beside him, popping confetti on him as he stepped outside. 

Oh, heck. He'd completely forgotten. 

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOSER!", you all yell as Maya aunty shot you a playfully disapproving look. 

You collide onto him in an embrace, subtly kissing his cheek as you whisper in his ear. "Happy birthday, baby." 

He hugged you tightly as Hari and Gayatri joined in, Maya aunty flashing pics as his face was smeared in cream. 

He wasn't losing you, after all! 

Pavitr's nails dug into the frame and it breaks under his spider strength. Tears rush down his cheeks on their own as he cries harder, gritting his teeth in guilt and kicking himself.

You had been his first -first friend, first crush, first kiss, first person to know his alter-ego.. and the first to make him question his existence. 

You had been his everything and he lost you. 

________

Hope you liked it! :)) reblogs and comments feed my fic dragon uwu

[dolceaspidenera]

Aurora belongs to @senualothbrok

You are playing with the fabric on her shoulder. It torments you, the trail of freckles that drifts down the curve of her cheek, disappearing on the edge of her neck, only to reappear on her collarbone and shoulder blade. Aurora’s freckles are like winding roads in an unchartered territory, waiting to be discovered. Instinctively, your mouth dips down to follow where they lead. “Gale…” She looks up, frowning. “What are you doing?” You are losing yourself. There is something about having her here with you, in the home that you have occupied for so many years with only Tara for company, readying herself to meet those you cherish most. You never thought such a thing would be possible. You are suddenly dizzy with love and desire. Your tongue swirls against her skin, yearning for more of her. - From Promise (go read it, it's really good!)

The vibes 🎶

Extras :)

[hostess-of-horror]

Phantom of the Bwahpera x Reader headcanons

💕🎶🐰A Valentine's Day Special Part 2!🎭🎤💕

Note: Happy Valentine's Day again, everyone! After my Turbo/King Candy x Reader post was sent, I realized that I never actually did one of these for one of my ongoing favorite characters, the Phantom from Mario + Rabbids! It has been a long while since I did anything with him - in fact, I actually missed him - and I figured now is a great time to fix that. Also, he is one of my romantic f/o's, soooo this is also kind of a self-ship thing?

@sneklover @randomrabbidramblings @altermentality @mothstache @salamifuposey @snailstrailz @pastelprince18 @deezeyrabbidy @color-cacophony @tiramegtoons/@sliceoflifesalami @ejsmith145 @candyheartedchy and everyone else who wants to read this!

Content Includes: Gender Neutral Reader, Slight Suggestiveness but SFW in general, some spoilers for Mario + Rabbids: Kingdom Battle and Rayman In The Phantom Show DLC, plenty of headcanons shared between me and my mutuals, slight cursing

Just like the last one, click on the name/title for a love song!

The Phantom

To say that being the paramour of an infamous celebrity is thrilling would be an understatement.

The Phantom was - is - a bonafide Prima Donna.

From his lavish lifestyle down to the way he speaks, he is someone who would want the creme de la creme of life's luxuries, including relationships.

There were plenty of (more popular) fish in the sea... and yet, he picked you.

You couldn't really pinpoint exactly why he did, though.

Was it genuine interest? Curiosity? Boredom, perhaps another stunt to gain more attention?

Just thinking about it made you dizzy.

And it really didn't help when the paparazzi would appear during one of your public strolls (floats?) with him.

The flashing lights mixed with the cacophony of cameras clicking and chatter was distracting.

But only for a moment, because the Phantom would always shield you from the crowd...

Suddenly, those dizzying thoughts faded away.

The Phantom did things like this all the time. No matter what, he was oddly protective of you.

Sure, he's had his moments, and as big as they were, he always made amends in various ways.

Serenades, moonlit dates, the most expensive gifts, dancing in candlelight - every cheesy possible scenario he could think of and he does it so fucking well!

You had to admit, it's gotten rather excessive... But this was the Phantom of the Bwahpera.

He is a literal Opera Ghost; it's in his nature.

And the fact he is doing all of this for you is just unbelievably sweet of him!

But the best part was how he treated you afterward.

To put it simply: as much as Phantom loved the spotlight, he preferred the comforts of domestic intimacy.

The fusion between a Boo balloon, a gramophone, and a Rabbid created one hell of a cuddler.

Physical attention is a constant, on top of his many, many, many gifts.

It brought a sense of vulnerability to each other, comforted by each other's presence.

You at one point had a feeling that your beloved was a tad bit touch-starved, for in his deep hunger for your love and attention there was also a sense of loneliness.

His reputation had stirred controversy for years, resulting in him becoming as hated as he was loved.

In his desperate need for the spotlight, he kept destroying anything and anybody that was in the way (figuratively and, sometimes, literally).

His addiction - his instincts - made him a nightmare.

But with you, his precious rose, his Ange de le Musique, he is as gentle as a lamb, a slave for your love!

Anything you want, anything you need, he can provide.

After all these years, you are the audience he had always longed for.

[scarfacemarston]

Yelena Belova Emoji Hc’s Part 2

Prompt here.

𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐒.

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

Besides Don McLean (American Pie), She loves Mitski, Blondie, Madonna, Tears for Fears, David Bowie, Chapell Roan and Annie Lennox.

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

1. Yelena would love to go to Universal Studios. She thinks the rides are more exciting and that there would be less crowds - plus less kids compared to Disney World. She has no interest in visiting there.

2. Sometimes, she wishes she could settle down with a partner (queer platonic or otherwise), adopt a lot of animals and live in a more rural area…as long as she was still relatively close to a city. She couldn’t stand being in the middle of nowhere.

3. She is extremely heat sensitive. She gets headaches, excessive thirst and occasionally dizzy. It was bad to the point that some of her missions needed adjusting.

💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits?

Yelena is light sleeper. It’s from her days in the widow program. None of them were heavy sleepers. They didn’t have the opportunity to be. However, this habit/life style hasn’t let up even though it’s been years since she was in the program. She wakes at every sound. But! Yelena is learning to enjoy sleeping even though she struggles with nightmares.

🔱 TRIDENT EMBLEM — can your oc swim? do they enjoy swimming?

There’s no way the Black Widow program would release agents into the world without knowing how to swim. So yes, she does know how to swim. She doesn’t swim often, but she doesn’t mind it. She’ll swim at a dacha or the beach.

🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons?

Oh yes, name a weapon she doesn’t know how to use. She knows how to turn any object into a weapon, too.

🔶 LARGE ORANGE DIAMOND — does your oc know cpr? do they have any other medical expertise?

Yes, she learned basic first aid and wound care as a Black Widow in case she needed it in the field and was by herself. Plus, she would sometimes need to care for a mark/target/someone and CPR would come in handy.

🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?

She was a social smoker if she could get away with it. She still occasionally smokes, but she doesn’t like that she picked up the habit while under cover and thinks of it as an anchor of her own life. She also knows Natasha and Melina would be disappointed. Yelena drinks, but not a lot. If so, it’s usually beer or on some occasions, vodka. However, she wouldn’t mind some “girly” drinks like cosmos or sangrias.

[aheathen-conceivably]

🎶 So I close my eyes and the tears will clear 🎶

The sound of the whistle permeated the air, cutting through the steam and fog on the docks of New Orleans. Zelda held Violette’s hand tightly so that she wouldn’t get lost amidst the sea of luggage and people greeting one another or waiting to be taken far from this place.

The moment that she stepped foot on the dock, Zelda's eyes were drawn up to the church, which looked exactly the same as it did when she had first arrived nine years ago. She was staring at it, distinctly recalling the dizzying feeling of the first time she had seen it rising above the river banks, when a figure rushed toward her.

Before she could say a word Antoine’s arms were around her, suffocating out everyone else on the dock and any of her reservations about being back there. He brushed back her hair and kissed every inch of her face, seemingly making no effort to hide the tears of happiness flowing from his eyes and unaware of the stares raining down on them.

He continually looked at Zelda, attempting to formulate the words to express how grateful he was simply to touch her and see her again, before he would lose his thoughts to a small sob or a quick touch of her gloved hand. He could feel the apology caught in his throat, begging to be let out, when a small hand began to tug at the pant leg of his pink suit.

He looked down to see a pair of olive green eyes besieging him for acknowledgment, her need for attention only heightened by her parent’s momentary forgetfulness of her. Antoine bent down to pull her into his arms, “Ma petite cherie! I am so very sorry. Tell me, how was England? Was it as grand as a storybook? Did you see any castles?”

“I did! I did! On a hill in the clouds just like in the stories. Momma told me my Aunt Rosella used to work there. Aunt Rosella was momma’s sister. She said she was pretty just like me and that she told lots of stories and…”

As Violette rambled on, Antoine pulled Zelda close to the two of them, unspeakably happy that they were back here with him. All of the noise around them seemed to fall into a pleasant drone as he stared as Zelda, still yet to speak to one another even as Violette continued to recount her entire journey across the Atlantic.

Sensing her parent’s emotions, Violette ceased her diatribe and tugged at her father’s collar, “Poppa? Poppa? Put me down. I’m big enough to walk on my own.”

The moment her small feet hit the wooden docks she began to confidently walk ahead of them, as if she knew every step to take to get back to the home she had been asking about for months. Her parents trailed behind, watching her steps lovingly and veering ever closer to one another.

When they reached the planked sidewalk above the dock, Antoine stopped and looked toward Zelda. It was quiet here, the murmur from the crowd below only reaching them in snippets. Suddenly the words he had been waiting months to say finally spilled from his mouth. He had accepted that she wasn’t coming home, that perhaps he couldn’t blame her in the slightest if she stayed in England.

Yet he wanted nothing more than for her to choose to come back, but couldn’t ask her to do so knowing that the future he offered here would never be as secure as the one she had in England. Even still he apologized in every way he could: for his absence, for allowing her to go without him at all, and for leaving her to face her ghosts alone while she had stood beside him through so many.

His eyes beseeched her as they bridged the small gap between them, “Zelda, if you can forgive me, I promise all you have to do is tell me you need me and I’ll never leave you alone again, okay?”

Zelda returned his gaze, knowing that his words were only part of what she needed. She had come back so that Violette wouldn’t grow up without him, but also simply because she wanted to be with him. Although her absence seemed to have drawn out what she craved from him, she still didn’t know if he could continue this vulnerability or face the difficult realty of their lives when mundanity returned.

But his eyes were so familiar, so earnest in their questioning and love, that she couldn’t deny why she had come back, and that she herself would turn a blind eye if it meant she could ever be this happy. She leaned onto him and lifted her eyes to meet his own, letting her face tell him that yes, she could forgive him.

“Momma? Poppa? What are you doing? Let’s go home!”

Zelda took Antoine’s hand in her own and began to follow after Violette, “Yes, my little love. Let’s go home.”

[nobbykun]

Artist - 南野陽子 (Minamino Yoko) Song - さよならのめまい (Sayonara No Memai) [Eng. "Dizziness Of Goodbye"] Release Date - November 1985

Listen 🎶

https://rumble.com/v5kkkzx-yoko-minamino-sayonara-no-memai.html

My blog: Showa Music Library https://nobbykun.tumblr.com/

[simslegacy5083]

NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9 Ep 74: Made For You

The Story of a Family

Noemi let her sick friend sleep cozily on her shoulder until it was time to turn the TVs volume back up for the traditional New Year’s countdown.

Luigi roused himself to celebrate with her but collapsed back onto the couch as soon as the clock ticked over to midnight. Rather than head home in the cold Noemi invited him to stay and rest.

He smiled gratefully, “Thanks, that would be great,  but before we head to bed, I have something important to tell you.”

A feverish Luigi laid his heart bare to Noemi then, gushing “This isn’t the first time you’ve made an awful day amazing. Noemi, we’re perfect for each other. I’ve done my best to give you space and remain uncommitted, but you need to know. You’re the one for me, my ideal match.”

He continued “We’ve always been great together, and if you show up on my arm to dad’s wedding at this point, no-one could possibly complain about you moving on from Kiana too fast. My family will be overjoyed to see me in a serious relationship, and happy to see you again as well, I’m sure of it! We can spend time together openly at family events, finally make this thing between us official! I want that for us, so much”.

He sat back then, a hopeful smile on his face, waiting for her to tell him she had come to feel the same way.

Noemi shrank back, the vision of being surrounded by his huge and judgy family a literal nightmare for a socially awkward sim like her.

“Luigi, as much as I like you, I can’t handle a night full of awkward questions and stares from all your relatives. Not now, maybe not ever.”

She paused, then followed up almost angrily: “What we have, just between the two of us, is going great! Why are you trying to change it?”

Luigi was devastated by her response.

He finally choaked out “You don’t GET it. I can’t hide anymore! I need what ALL my cousins have, a sim I can settle down with, raise children with, someone to have and to hold my whole life. I want you to be that sim, but if you really can’t stand my family then its never going to happen for us.”

Before Noemi could respond Luigi stumbled to his feet and headed towards the door. He couldn't bear to spend the night after all that. 

Pausing outside in the hallway to let a fresh wave of dizziness pass he willed the watcher to send her after him, take him in her arms and tell him that she'd changed her mind. When minutes passed in the cold hallway, and no Noemi appeared, he finally stumbled on towards home, grateful for the empty elevator and the darkness of the night that hid the silent tears flowing freely down his cheeks and into the snow.

🎶I don’t want to run away, but I can’t take it, I don’t understand, if I’m not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am…🎶

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[tzipporahs-well]

🥔 🎭 🤦 🎶?

(i already know your answer to at least one of these 😆)

🥔 Applesauce or sour cream?

Hot take 🔥: neither belong on latkes (half joking). In all seriousness, I eat my latkes plain. But at least applesauce is edible for me on its own even if it’s not my fave. I do like apples 🍎. Sour cream 🥴. So if I had to choose one, it’s the apples.

🎭 Purim or Chanukah?

Purim Purim Purim! No but in all seriousness, Purim is my favorite Jewish holiday of all time. I feel like it is especially applicable to these times plus I really like the food and costumes.

Chanukah is good but 8 nights is a lot…and I kinda feel like media oversaturated Chanukah because of its proximity to another December holiday.

Not to say that Chanukah is bad at all, but Purim has it beat by a lot. Also, fried food has a hard time storing and traveling well…The great news about both holidays are that they are low stress holidays.

🤦 Shema or Modeh Ani

Shema! This is a prayer fundamental traditionally said twice a day. These were the words that allowed me to become a Jew when I underwent mikveh immersion. Not only that but the Shema is way easier to learn.

Also as far as I know but I may be wrong, Modeh Ani is only said in the morning while Shema can be said any time.

🎶 'Lecha Dodi' or 'Shalom Aleichem'?

Lecha Dodi! 👰‍♀️ There are several tunes and 8 verses (wish we would do all 8 verses in reform synagogue but a girl can dream 💭). Plus the first letter of each verse spells out an acrostic of the author’s name. And the verses are all different. I will say though that although Shalom Aleichem is easier to learn, it can’t compare to the dizzying heights and references of Lecha Dodi.

[sinvulkt]

20 Questions For Writers

Wow, thank you so much for the tag @fanfictasia !! I've wanted to participate in something like this forever!! 🎶✨️✨️

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Right now? 66.

"Yes, as a star wars writer, I am very proud of that. No, I do not intend to change it anytime soon."

I really need to focus on (and finish) some of my WIPs, and that mean trying not to disperse my energy amidst one shots (no matter how much i love monthly challenges and fic exchange events). Also I'm very proud of that 66 count and want to appreciate it xd.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

321k words!!

(More or less 100k / year 🎶 little me would never believe that 0.0

My school exam results sure don't, with how they are dropping 🤣)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star wars mostly (Vaderkin or my OC Sinvulkt), then Marvel (Dr Strange), Dream SMP (Dream), Le Visiteur du Future (Renard) and more recently Batman (Bruce Wayne) as well as Avatar: the last airbender (Zuko).

Plus the original stories I am supposed to write but almost never end up doing xd (the engagement in fandom compared to original stories make the switch hard xd).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Dreamt of a Never Ending Sky (Dream SMP)

669 kudos

2. To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars)

480 kudos

3. On the Edge of Twilight (Star Wars)

380 kudos

4. Scales of Embers (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

353 kudos

5. Crash Landing on Space Australia (Star Wars)

319 kudos

I'll never know how my Dream SMP fic got so much engagement. Good timing at a moment the fandom was in effervescence, I guess. Scales of Embers scoring so high is also a surprise 0.0. I discovered it had that many kudos today. It’s a shame the Dr Strange fandom is small because I think my Dr Strange WIP What If Doctor Strange Lost His Humanity ? would have deserved a place here. It definitely does in my heart.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! As a reader, I always feel super happy when the author shows that they’ve read and appreciated my comments. I know that personality an author who answers make me more likely to want to drop a comment.

As an author, I absolutely want to show how much I love every single comments, so I try to answer them all. But I get a little overwhelmed sometimes, bcs lots of other stuff going on irl or another reason. As such, it can happen that I don't feel the energy to answer a comment on the spot. And if I don't answer it on the spot (using the power of the wiggy dizzy nice happy feeling of getting a comment), I don't necessarily have the energy to answer later on. I currently have something like 60 unanswered comments I think? TT.TT

But rest assured that whether I answered or not, I absolutely adore and cherish every single ones!! Comments are amazing! ✨️.✨️

(This kind of engagement is one of the only reason I managed to settle into such an active rythm of writing after years of trying then dropping the hobby~)

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Glance at my fics.

Uhhh... This is a hard question here... Many of them have angsty endings XD

Mostly the ones at the beginning (the worst written ones xd). I wonder why~

Also a lot of them don' have endings yet XD

I'll say amidst the 'old' fics from 2021, Day 8 - Screaming (Star Wars) would be the angstier one (or most horrible one ig xd).

But as far as recent fic go... While I haven't finished writing it bcs its wordcount exploded in my face, I already plotted / drafted it a few months ago and I know the ending, so I'll choose:

Batman’s Downfall (To Stand Alone) (Batman)

I noticed my kind of angst doesn’t have much success around these parts 🫠🤣. Oh well. I cherish it all the same :3.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Sometimes I think I wrote too many fics. It's hard to select one.

Uhhh... My fluffiest works are one shots in Of Feathers and Freedom serie, but they are part of the series so it’s not really an 'ending'.

...

I'll answer for the crackiest story rather than the happiest ending bcs all my finished fics ending are ominous open ending at best xd.

The Blob Adventures Of Excentrics Jedi (Star Wars)

Because it's cute blob drawings of our crazy team of OC in taaoej, and I love them (although we are all angst lovers in taaoej, so it's more crack-angst, and we don't know the ending bcs there isn't really one. Not yet at least. Hopefully never).

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Just my own innervoice as far as I'm aware. But then I've always been rather clueless when people tried to 'hate on me'. The message usually just got lost somewhere in dreamspace immensity, never computing.

I've found the fandoms communities really welcoming at the very least!!

9. Do you write smut?

No.

I don't really enjoy reading smut. Nor romance for the matter. I don't think I'd enjoy writing it.

But maybe I'll try one day, for the sake of experimenting all genres.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I never did. I don't know why. Maybe I just never felt the need to mix characters and universes. There are amazing crossovers out there though, so who knows, maybe one day I'll try one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. In all honesty, I don't think my works are nearly popular enough to get stolen xd.

My writing style isn’t that good yet, and my dislike of romance when the majority of the fandom community is ship-powered means I end up in a corner quite niche. (A corner I love, that being said. Yay Crack, Angst and Gen~)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but maybe I'll translate some of mine in french someday. Be it only so that I do write fiction in my native language from time to time.

Anyone that wanna translate my fics, feel free to!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes, To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars)!!

I’m still waiting for my co-author @purpleopossum to come back to me / get back in star wars mood to continue that one. 🫠

Can’t say my hopes are that high up after all this time, but it’s the redemption | healing part of the serie and I don’t really have fun writing alone redemption | healing part... i prefer doing the whole mayhem that create the injury in the first place. And with how long some of my fics hiatus are (and I got no excuse for those xd), it’s only fair for me to wait. (I did write more other works for the dragon Vader serie in the meantime xd).

I made an oath to myself to never leave a work unfinished though, so we’ll see. If in several years purple still doesn’t wish to continue it, or if she inform me she is dropping the story, I’ll try to make some kind of ending. It’s part of the game i guess.

Alternatively, the The Amazing Adventures Of Excentrics Jedi universe is a group of star wars OCs that we made together with @pat-the-togorian , @asteral-feileacan , @ct2002-rema and Xylian. I don’t know if that count as co-writing? We usually write our OCs pov.

But in all cases, co-writting is very fun and I’d definitely do it again if other opportunities arise in the future.

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

The absence of ship is my all-time favorite ship. Otherwise, "main character / digging their own grave" would be my 'favorite ship' since I tend to synch with idiots snarky jerks disasters.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

To Fly Free Under The Morning Sun (Star Wars) that I mentioned for question 13? 🤣

More seriously, I'll answer On the Edge of Twilight (Star Wars)

Because it's my vent fic. I know the main plot line, I vaguely know the current arc, but no one can predict where the next arc will go. It's all pure impulse and while I have a vague idea of 'ending', I refuse to plan a path towards it. This fic specifically, I want to keep pure impulse. So I'd love for it to become some kind of "The NeverEnding Story". :3

16. What’s your writing strengths?

I write.

No seriously, it's not something I did four years ago appart from vent poems here and there. Writing is in itself a huge writing strenght!

Otherwise I'm also a bottomless well of idea. It's pretty neat.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

... romance?

Or dialogues. Lastly I have a lot of frustration around the transition from dialogue / transition / dialogue. I feel like I'm crap at properly timing that.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It's fun. I do it for games sometimes. Since apparently writing normally is not chllenging enough for my brain sometimes. It did teach me bits of mando'a.

Recently for Sēċan (Star Wars) I decided last minute to put the whole droid dialogue in morse, and I regret none of it.

I'm usually only doing it for one shots though, and never 'official existing' languages until now.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star wars :p

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Now that's another hard question, how am I supposed to select one.

I'm gonna answer the whole Of Feathers And Freedom (Star Wars) serie. Bcs wings. :3

Tag time~ (if you wish to)

@purpleopossum @pat-the-togorian @cinderfeather @beguilewritesstuff @purple-iris @dreaminghour @ravenite-void @trickstress333 @bluntblade @doctorgeekery @stewardofningishzida @jenae-0 @trickstress333 @kittonafoxgirl @pastelcourage @salparadiselost @kefalion @charlottevader @ravenstakeflight @starr234 @aelaer @sarcasticfirefighter @mckiwi @linzerj @sonderwalker @exomal @tonhalszendvics @nephilimswitchlight @firejay112 @only-here-for-the-star-wars @ajedilikehisfather @makaronik @chickadeechickadoo @dirtkid123 @numerousbees1106 @akizumy @25centsoda @udekai @wendingways @silvereddaye @in-company-of-misery @wisechaosglitter @kuraiarcoiris @alright-anakin @wyvunn you're more than welcome to join on the interview fun!! (Or to ignore the tagging if not interested xd).

I know I tagged. I lot of people. Some of you may recognise my pseud, some may not. But I thought it would be interesting to hear the answer of the various authors with whom I interacted on ao3 over the years, so I went and digged up those with tumblr I could find from my inbox 🤣

(Hopefully I didn’t bother any of you >.< - otherwise I apologize. Same for if I accidentally tagged a non-writer.)

I'd love to hear your answers! 🎶