#gifs borrowed from google search

[oddlittlestories]

Who has the bigger dumbass energy (as in they’re not dumb but they are a dumbass)

Propaganda under the cut

Kutner: terrible at the cover story. Keeps blowing himself up to help patients. Bets on everything. Overall chaos energy.

Chase: his password was password. Masters canonically calls him a dumb whore. Is brilliant but also gives off vibes like he’s not quite sure what’s going on half the time.

[cece693]

Ok but like imagine both Billy and Stu with a big tiddy goth! male! reader as their roommate lol

Reader looks intimidating but is actually really nice lol

Looks Can Be Deceiving (Stu and Billy x M! Reader)

Hi! So I'm not really that well informed on the big tiddy slang (English is not my first language) but after a quick google search I think I got the idea????? If not, then I apologize, but I hope you enjoy this :)

tags: oblivious reader, realistic billy and stu (I think), pre-relationship, open ended, might be a part 2 coming

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher weren’t exactly looking for a new friend, let alone a roommate. They’d been fine on their own, thriving in the chaos of their twisted little partnership. But when the college housing office placed them in a three-bedroom rental with some random guy, they couldn’t exactly say no. Rent was cheap, the landlord didn’t ask questions, and besides, how bad could it be?

The first time they saw you, though, they realized this arrangement was going to be…interesting.

You were standing in the living room when they arrived, setting up a bookshelf filled with horror novels and occult knickknacks. At first glance, you looked like something straight out of one of their favorite slasher films—towering, dressed in all black, tattoos peeking out from under your sleeves, with silver jewelry glinting against your pale skin. Your undercut only made you look more dangerous. Stu, never one to keep his thoughts to himself, leaned close to Billy and whispered, “Dude, do you think he’s in, like, a death cult or something?”

Billy didn’t answer, but his sharp eyes lingered on you as you turned to greet them. “Hey,” you said, your voice deep and smooth. “I made brownies. Want some?”

Stu’s jaw dropped. Billy just narrowed his eyes. And just like that, their expectations were shattered.

Over the next few days, it became clear that you weren’t at all what they expected. Despite your intimidating looks, you were ridiculously nice—almost unnervingly so. You always smiled when you saw them, greeted them with “Good morning” even if they ignored you, and even asked if they wanted anything from the grocery store before you went out. When you weren’t at class or work, you were usually in the kitchen, baking cookies or meal-prepping while blasting Bauhaus or The Cure from a tiny speaker.

Stu was instantly smitten. He started following you around like a puppy, throwing his long arms around your shoulders and declaring you his “best goth buddy.” He loved pushing your buttons just to see you scowl—like the time he “borrowed” one of your necklaces and pretended he lost it, only to give it back with an over-the-top apology. “Don’t worry,” he said, grinning up at you. “I’ll make it up to you. Wanna watch a movie? I’ll even let you pick.”

Billy, on the other hand, was harder to read. He spent a lot of time watching you from across the room, his dark eyes following your every move. You caught him staring more than once, but he always looked away before you could say anything. Unlike Stu, who was all loud jokes and obvious flirting, Billy was subtle. He’d make sarcastic comments about your goth aesthetic, only to quietly leave a new horror novel on your desk after you mentioned liking the author. He never admitted it, but you had a feeling he stayed up with you that one night you were stressed about your midterms just because he didn’t want you to be alone.

Stu and Billy’s affections, however, reached a dangerous new peak the day they stumbled into your room at the worst—or best, depending on how you looked at it—possible moment. It started innocently enough, or at least as innocently as things ever got with those two. Stu had been whining about needing help finding a charger, and Billy, clearly annoyed, suggested he ask you. Of course, "asking" wasn’t Stu’s style.

“C’mon, Big Guy!” Stu called as he shoved your door open, Billy trailing behind him. “You seen my—oh my god.”

You froze mid-motion, one arm reaching for the fresh shirt you were about to pull on, the other holding a towel you were using to dry your hair. Time seemed to stop as both of them stood there in the doorway, their eyes glued to your bare chest. No shirt. No barriers. Just you, all soft curves and broad muscle, your big tits on full display.

“Holy shit,” Stu breathed, his voice tinged with awe. His jaw practically hit the floor as he stared, unblinking. “Are you kidding me? Those things are, like, illegal.”

Billy, meanwhile, was much quieter, but no less affected. His dark eyes drank you in, his usual mask of control slipping for a moment as his gaze flicked downward, then back to your face. He swallowed hard, shifting his weight like he was trying to keep himself from stepping closer. His voice, when he finally spoke, was lower than usual. “We didn’t know you were changing.”

“No shit,” you snapped, snatching the shirt and pulling it over your head as quickly as possible. “You ever heard of knocking?”

Stu groaned, flopping dramatically against the doorframe. “Aw, don’t cover up! I was just starting to enjoy the view!”

Billy shot him a glare but didn’t argue. He was still staring at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You’re...built,” he said, his tone almost grudging, like the words were being dragged out of him against his will.

“Thanks, I guess?” you muttered, tugging the hem of your shirt down and crossing your arms over your chest. You could still feel their eyes on you, and it made your skin prickle with a mix of embarrassment and something you couldn’t quite name.

Stu leaned closer, his grin widening. “Dude, do you, like, know how big those are? Like, for real? You could probably drown someone with ‘em. You want to try it out?”

“Stu,” you growled, your patience wearing thin. “Get. Out.”

Billy finally stepped in, grabbing Stu by the back of his shirt and dragging him toward the door. “Come on, idiot. Let's leave him alone.”

“But Billy!” Stu whined, digging his heels in. “I wasn’t done appreciating the—”

The door slammed shut before he could finish, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. You could hear them bickering in the hallway, Stu’s voice loud and animated as always.

“I’m just saying, those are a work of art! It’s like the Mona Lisa, but, you know, better.” “You’re an idiot,” Billy muttered, but his voice was tight, like he was holding something back.

From the moment Billy and Stu got an eyeful of your assets, the dynamic in the house spiraled into utter chaos. You’d barely noticed it at first, chalking up their constant presence to boredom or a newfound interest in hanging out. But as weeks went on, their antics became harder to ignore. The snarky comments, the heated glares exchanged when you weren’t looking, the way they tripped over themselves trying to one-up each other—it was enough to make even the most oblivious person suspicious.

But not you.

Whether it was the gym incident, the pancake debacle, or the never-ending movie night arguments, you remained blissfully unaware of the brewing storm. You were too focused on your studies, your workouts, and making sure the house didn’t descend into complete disorder to notice the increasingly absurd lengths Billy and Stu were going to for your attention.

It all came to a head one particularly tense evening. You’d gone out to grab groceries, leaving Billy and Stu alone in the house. The moment the door closed behind you, the gloves came off.

“Just admit it,” Stu said, pacing the living room like a caged animal. “You’re obsessed with him.”

Billy leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression icy. “Says the guy who’s practically glued to his side 24/7.”

Stu spun around, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You’re just mad because he actually laughs at my jokes. When’s the last time he smiled at you?”

Billy’s jaw clenched. “Maybe he doesn’t need a fucking circus act to enjoy someone’s company.”

“Oh, right,” Stu sneered, throwing up his hands. “Because brooding in the corner like some wannabe vampire is so charming.”

“Better than acting like a hyperactive toddler,” Billy shot back, his voice dangerously low.

The argument escalated quickly, voices rising as they hurled insults back and forth. At one point, Stu picked up a couch pillow and launched it at Billy’s head, narrowly missing. Billy retaliated by shoving Stu into the wall, and for a moment, it seemed like things were about to get physical.

But then you walked in.

“Hey, guys—what the hell is going on!?” you asked, staring at the scene in front of you: Stu pinned against the wall, Billy’s hand fisted in his shirt, both of them glaring daggers at each other. They froze, turning to look at you like two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“Uh…nothing!” Stu said quickly, plastering on his trademark grin. “Just some light wrestling. Y’know, for fun.”

Billy let go of Stu and stepped back, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “Yeah. Just messing around.”

You raised an eyebrow but decided not to press the issue. “Okay...well, I got pizza. It'll be in the kitchen.”

As you disappeared into the other room, the tension between them simmered, but neither of them made another move. Not yet, anyway. It wasn't until later that night, after you'd gone to bed, that Billy and Stu returned to their conversation.

“This has to stop,” Billy hissed, his voice low and cold.

Stu crossed his arms, still bristling from their earlier fight. “You think I don’t know that? But what’s your solution, huh? Scare him off so neither of us gets him? Not happening, Billy Boy.”

Billy was silent for a long moment, his jaw working as he mulled over his options. He hated the idea of sharing you—hated it almost as much as he hated the thought of Stu winning. But the alternative was losing you completely, and that wasn’t something he was willing to risk. “Fine.”

Stu blinked, caught off guard. “Fine what?”

“We share him,” Billy ground out, his teeth clenched.

Stu stared at him, and then a slow grin spread across his face. “Well, well, well. Didn’t think you had it in you to play nice.”

“Don’t push it,” Billy warned, his voice sharp. “This doesn’t mean I like you. It just means I like him more.”

Stu snickered. “Whatever you say, buddy. But hey, at least now we’re on the same team, right?”

Billy didn’t answer, turning on his heel and stalking off. Stu watched him go, still grinning to himself.

From that day forward, things…changed.

You didn’t notice the difference at first. If anything, Billy and Stu seemed to get along better, their bickering replaced with an odd sort of pact. They started spending more time together, which you figured was just a natural byproduct of living in close quarters. What you didn’t realize was that they were coordinating their efforts.

Stu would distract you with jokes and games while Billy silently took note of what you liked, using that information to his advantage later. Billy would lure you into long, intense conversations about movies and books, giving Stu time to swoop in with grand gestures—like the time he surprised you with a ridiculously elaborate cake “just because.”

If you were confused by their sudden teamwork, you didn’t show it. You just kept being your usual, oblivious self, completely unaware of the quiet, unspoken truce between them—or the way they both watched you like wolves circling their prey.

It wasn’t perfect. Billy still bristled every time Stu got a little too handsy with you, and Stu couldn’t resist making snide comments whenever Billy monopolized your time. But for the most part, they made it work. Because at the end of the day, they both wanted the same thing.

You.

And if sharing was the only way to keep you close, then so be it.

For now.

[mjolnirswriststrap]

You’re The Reason I Smoke

_____________________

Summary- reader needs something to take the edge off, and doesn’t know super soldiers can’t really get drunk.

Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: smoking, alcohol consumption, Bucky roughly grabs your face, that’s all 😇

Masterlist

This is my first Bucky fic, so go easy on me, there will be mistakes, my only hope is that I get better with practice ❤️

Edit: I’ve fixed some things and found out there was a whole paragraph missing, do not copy and paste from notes app! 😂

You just wanted a quick drink of water from the kitchen, you didn’t expect him to be there, leaning against the counter. White tank top tucked into navy blue slacks, a black belt with a golden buckle shines at you. He was quite literally, halfway undressed, you couldn’t help but to glance at his arms, both stunning in their own way. You favored the left, the thought of what it could do was enough for you. These kind of thoughts are why you smoke, and you need to right now. Having fantasies about your coworker isn’t good for your health. You quickly grab a cup filling it half way: taking a sip before dumping it down the sink, walking out without interacting with anyone else in the room. Strolling out the front door of Stark tower, you spot your favorite green bench. It doesn’t have any particularly favorable qualities about it, except for Tom, the old man that sat himself there everyday, protesting everything Tony was doing. It had been a month and it didn’t seem like he was going anywhere so you made friends. An eyebrow raise and an offer of cigarettes was all it took for Tom to open up. After hearing him out, you kind of agreed with him and not your current boss.

Your eyes search the surrounding area and your smile falters. There’s no Tom, no sign saying “no more playing god”. Sighing, you sit alone, ripping open a new pack, sliding a single cigarette out instead of two. You feel around every pocket before you realize you left your lighter on your dresser upstairs. Which was weird since you always lay it on top of your pack. You look around seeing a newsstand that sells some basic necessities, down the street, behind some food trucks. You start to feel triumphant before you think about the fact; your wallet was also left on your dresser.

You tell yourself surely someone is going to be leaving soon and you’ll just wait and borrow a dollar from Nat, Sam or Wanda. As if the moment could be any worse, you see a wall of a man walk out the front door of the tower. Just the sight of him makes your nerves vibrate, you can’t decide if it’s a good or bad buzzing. You’re casual with each other, never too friendly and never unpleasant. To him and everyone else, you two were just regular coworkers. To you, you were the office crusher and he the brooding, well mannered super soldier, you’re crushing on. Maybe he’d be a nice coworker and lend you a dollar, or maybe he won’t and you’ll look stupid. Your brain continues to overthink as your feet take you to catch up with his large paces. It was a hike to get up to your room and having to come all the way back down just didn’t really feel worth it, so, humiliation it is!

“Hey Sergeant.” Bucky stops in his tracks, slowly turning around. Softly smiling when his eyes land on you, “Hey Птичка, what are you doing hanging around out here?”. You take a breath, processing him, processing the use of the Russian name he always calls you, Google can’t help you translate since you have no clue where to even start. He could be calling you dumbass, which is the most probable scenario in your mind. “I just came out for a quick smoke, and to see my guy, but he’s not here today and I forgot my lighter so I’m 0 for 2.” You scratch your neck, dryly laughing.

Bucky slowly shook his head up and down as you spoke, as if he was interested in every word you said, hopeful you say “I was wondering if you had a dollar I could borrow? I left my wallet upstairs and I really need a lighter right now. I will have one crispy dollar waiting for you when you get back,” you pleadingly look between his bright eyes, you finish your plea with a “, scouts honor.” And a look of seriousness. “You know, you really shouldn’t smoke those things, they could kill y’a.” Bucky says as he reaches into his pocket, handing you a 20 dollar bill. “That’s too much, I just need a dollar Bucky!” You say, shoving his hand back into his chest. “Well,” He smiles, grabbing your hand, putting the 20 in it. “, I dont have anything smaller.” You thank him, promising again to have his money waiting when he got back, not mentioning the slight scolding he just gave you. Your lung health seems out of ordinary for someone like Bucky to think about or even care for.

You hear a beeping sound coming from his pocket, without checking it, Bucky says “Sorry to cut this short but I really have to get going or I’m gonna be late.”, giving you an apologetic look. You shake your head no before words formed in your mouth “no of course, I’d hate to hold you up, got a hot date?” You shot off that last part without thinking, you internally scream at your attempt of small talk. “Something like that, Steve’s idea.” You die a little on the inside, the buzzing turning into a throbbing in your skull. You pray the obvious blind date fails miserably as you wave him off, watching his back as he walks away.

Briskly you make your way to the stand, purchase a lighter and go sit down on your bench again. Except this time, “where the hell did my cigarettes go?” You say patting your pockets looking around the bench.

_____________________________

Bucky watches from the window as you stand there in shock, wondering where Tom is. He flicks your lighter, open and then closed, again and again as he watches you sit down and fumble with the cancer sticks that have some sort of hold on you. He secures his tie before walking towards the elevator. Sure, Bucky had smoked once or twice at a bar when he was younger. But that was then, and now science knows what they can do to people, he knows what they could do to you. He didn’t care when other people smoked, just you. Bucky couldn’t wrap his head around it. He felt an instinctual urge to protect you from hurting yourself. Thank God you weren’t a field agent and he didn’t have to constantly watch your back when guns were involved. It would be a lot harder for him to conceal his minor infatuation with you. You run laps around his head, even as he’s making his way through the lobby and out of the tower to have dinner with someone else, a girl Steve swore was the one. He couldn’t blame his friend for trying to get him back out there, it had been 70 years.

He knows you won’t be successful in your little smoke break. Thanks to his lock picking, he held your silver zippo in his pocket as he nonchalantly walked out the front door, keeping his eyes to the right, purposely ignoring your burning stare. He didn’t expect to hear feet running up behind him, or hear your sweet voice. The sound of his title fell so easily off your lips. You were the only person who called him Sergeant, everyone else seemingly knew it was reserved just for you.

Bucky listened intently as you made a case for a dollar loan. He would give you a million dollars if he had it, he just didn’t know how to show it. Too thick of a skin had grown over his heart for him to be able to tell you how he felt. Not being able to deny you, he hands over the first bill he pulled from his pocket, taking the opportunity to distract you by grabbing your hand, his other hand slips the little cardboard box from your loose hoodie pocket. You don’t notice as he slides them into the pocket of his slacks.

He’s about to walk away when his phone beeps, signaling he was already late for his so called date. He would rather stand here talking to you all night. Wanting to end the night before it even started Bucky said his goodbyes, and was almost home free, till you said hot date. He couldn’t lie about this, so he assured you it was Steve’s idea. He played it cool as he walked away, but inside, he hated the way your face fell when he confirmed your suspicions. He could almost say, you looked jealous. He knows you feel something for him too, but without Bucky being able to tell you how he feels. It’s going to be a never ending loop of will they or won’t they.

_______________________

It was late, and Bucky still hadn’t come to get his 20 back. You knew the money was an excuse to go down stairs, light one up and wait for him to get back. You truly just wanted to know how his date went, would there be a second? Leaning against the brick wall you take a long drag as you pull your hoodie tighter around you.

Bucky turns the corner and sees you standing there, cigarette dangling between your fingers, you looked irresistible. Maybe it was the nightmare of a date, or maybe it was him clearing out the pub down the street of draft beer. He especially thinks it was the way your lips perfectly wrapped around the orange tip. He didn’t have much time to pin point a reason why before he sprung into action. He stalked towards you, you smiled, opening your mouth to speak but before you could say anything, he rips the cigarette from your hand, throwing it to the ground and smashing it under his boot. He grabs your chin, staring into your eyes. Your breathing matched each other. You didn’t pull away, you didn’t move yourself from his grasp, Bucky could smell the staleness on your breath, he was so close he could feel your deep gasps fan across his face “I don’t want to see you with those things again, got it?” He hides his real frustration.

You’re confused, one second it’s casual Friday with this guy and now he’s pressuring you to quit smoking in the horniest way possible. You shake your head, agreeing that you got it. You weren’t actually going to quit because he said so, but whatever got him away from you and kept you from doing something you regret. You could smell the alcohol on him. You knew he wasn’t in a right state of mind, maybe he just really hated smoking and cared about your well being, he just came on a little too strong due to the drinks. You’ve dealt with plenty of drunks before, so you decide to change the subject. You loosen yourself from him, careful not to push him away completely. “How was your date, Sergeant?” You ask innocently.

One word was enough. Bucky can’t take it anymore, still close enough to do the one thing that would convey everything he felt, he leans forward and presses a light kiss to your lips, quick and gentle, barely there. It was enough to cause all the buzzing inside of you to stop. Everything stopped, the cars passing, the traffic lights changing, pedestrians walking by, the low hum of people in their apartments. The world disappeared, and all you could see was Bucky standing in front of you. Before you could protest, refusing to take advantage of a drunk person, Bucky blurts out “You ruined it. All I could think about was you. Everything she said was wrong because she wasn’t you.”.

You’re stunned, like all the air was removed from your lungs, you know you can’t take what he says now for certain, but it felt good to hear it. “Would you rather it have actually been me?” You say feeling brave. Bucky breaks eye contact at your question. He doesn’t answer as he faces the ground and lets his hair mask his emotions. You take his face in your hand, mirroring your stance moments before, you lift his glassy eyes to meet yours. “Yeah.” Was his response after searching your sincere eyes. You were playing a dangerous game with your own heart. You knew whatever you got into tonight with Bucky, would be just that, tonight only. It would only lead to more heartache. You decide to be a good friend right now, not a coworker, not a peer, not a hookup.

“You look tired Buck, let’s get you up to bed.” You receive no response as Bucky just watches you, gauging your reactions to him. You smile lightly and gently tug on his arm “I’ll even tuck you in, if you make this easy on me” you say referencing the maze of a tower you have to drag a drunk man through. It earns a “deal” from Bucky, which is enough for you to start moving towards the door. To your surprise, Bucky walked fine, stood up straight the whole way up the elevator. No lost shoes or throw up like a normal person. He physically showed no signs of being drunk, but his words screamed to you that he was intoxicated.

You point to a door, silently asking if it was the right room. Bucky nods, procuring a key from his pocket. You take it from him, assuming he has no hand eye coordination in his state. You jimmy open the door and let yourself in, holding the door wide open for Bucky to stomp in and make his way to the bed. He kicks his shoes off, taking off his tie and jacket, he lays them on the back of a small chair in the corner. “You don’t have to tuck me in, I appreciate the gesture though.” Bucky says lowly, now avoiding eye contact.

Still reeling from the kiss downstairs, you don’t notice Bucky’s change of mood. Nodding your head you bid him goodnight. “Well, here’s your $20 back,” you reach into the slim, side pocket of your leggings, pulling out the promised crispy bill. Bucky doesn’t look up as you place the money on top of his nightstand, he’s too embarrassed. He never should have said those things. He let it bubble up inside and when it finally came out, it wasn’t the right words. Bucky knows his confession sounded harsh. He used to think maybe one day he’d get over himself and attempt flirting with you. But that mission failed before it began.

_________________

Jumping up in a sweat filled haze, you shake the sleep from your head, the dream had been too real, too detailed, and rich; sickeningly sweet. The movie that played on through the night was just a fairytale. It could be real, but it was all contingent on a drunk Bucky. You needed to ready yourself for work, checking your phone you see 7:34 glaring back at you. Since yesterday was a leggings and hoodie day, you figured you’d make yourself presentable for this Saturday morning. Your job in stark tower was an unexpected one, no one else ever had the job or ever will have the job, Tony and Pepper’s lifeline. Pepper makes sure Tony is sorted and you make sure Pepper and the avengers are sorted. You see things Earth’s mightiest heros wouldn’t want anyone else seeing. You wouldn’t say you’re an assistant, or a pr manager, a wrangler if anything. Covering up the red in ledgers, wild nights out, a 17 year old spider who should be in bed for school, the usual at the tower. So what you wore wasn’t really a topic of conversation, if leggings is what the woman with all the knowledge wanted, she’d get to wear them to her 9-5.

Today felt different, you wore a short feminine blazer with a long black pencil skirt. A creme colored chemise tucked behind a single hooked button of your jacket. You walk from your small 3rd floor apartment down to an elevator that would take you to the avengers common room, you would do debriefs at 8 every morning. It consisted of wagging a heavy finger at who embarrassed themselves the day or night before, reminding Peter that his homework is more important than finding bad guys. And today, it wasn’t subject to change. You walk into the room, everyone lazily strewn onto the couches. Pepper being the only presentable one besides yourself. You can feel a thickness in the air as you make eye contact with Bucky, an unspoken “we need to talk” passes between you.

“Good Morning Team, I just wanted to start this day off by saying, you didn’t do too bad yesterday, I’m almost impressed.” you say looking down at your data pad, checking off “introduction” on the meeting schedule. “Sam, you didn’t draw a crowd of fans at the veteran’s food bank yesterday! Gold star for you. Wanda, I know you’re just trying to help, but Ms. Rosita told you to stop trying to teach Carmen magic. She’s only 5.” You finish by giving Wanda a pleading half smile. Some of this stuff should be common sense, you think, as you check off things they’ve heard a million times. “And finally, Peter, mind telling the class why my eyes are on you?” You question, eyebrows raised. You tap your foot, waiting for his response. Peter sits there with his mouth agape, not knowing he’d already been found out. “I uh..I…” he looks around for help. You assist him, “I uh heard someone was being bullied so I webbed Flash to the basketball net.” You shake your head, you know he means well, he just doesn’t pick the best corse of action, every time. “I’m sorry Y/N, Mr Stark. I just couldn’t see Flash hurting people who don’t deserve it, no one deserves to be bullied.” You nod your head at him, “That’s very sweet Peter, but you can’t be a vigilante. I’ll call your Aunt later.”. He groans looking down, fully understanding “Yes, Y/N”.

You sign off on the debrief “well that should be it guys, don’t get into any trouble today, please, it’s bad enough I work weekends, make it easy on me” you giggle, obviously joking, you loved your job. You started making your way out of the common room, heading towards the elevator, you pressed up. Never fully accepting that you worked in the penthouse. you worked beside Pepper in Tony’s office, of course they wanted to keep you close, you knew too much. All it is, is a tiny desk in a corner that’s facing the wall, a modest studio on the 3rd floor, a company credit card and knowing things that could easily get you killed. It wasn’t all food banks and bullies. You sigh as the elevator takes longer than usual. Completely forgetting about Bucky, you’re taken back when he taps your shoulder. “Hey, could we talk?” You nod, stepping away from the elevator. “I just wanted to apologize for last night, I shouldn’t have done or said that. It was out of line.” You smile softly, listening to him. He was drunk so he has an excuse, the fact that he’s standing here practically begging for forgiveness melts your heart. “Sergeant, you have nothing to worry about, everyone drinks a little too much sometimes. You should just be thankful it was me out there and not a paparazzi.” You give him grace, letting him know there is no hard feelings. Bucky looks at you, still ever so confused.He thought the coddling was unusual last night, now he understand why, you thought he was drunk off of human beer.

“Wait Y/N, you do realize my metabolism is so high, alcohol can’t affect me? Maybe the mead from Asgard, but nothing from the pub down the street. I’m apologizing for grabbing you, for telling you what to do, for kissing you, but I’m not sorry for telling you how I feel.”

You’re left speechless at his confession, “I..I uh don’t know what to say.” Scratching the back of your head you kick your toe around trying to make sense of the situation. Before you could, you see a blonde head of hair making their way towards you and the elevator. “C’mon Y/N, you know Tony doesn’t like to wait.” Pepper says, only playfully scolding you. She pulls you into the elevator away from Bucky, before you could say anything she’s waving as the doors close “Have a good day Mr. Barnes.”. Pepper is oblivious to what she just ripped you away from. You couldn’t blame her though, you’d talk to Bucky after work, letting last night play over and over while you sat at your desk.

_________________

PART 2

[sonkitty]

Trickery Post #7 - Rainbows

I continued making visual representation posts for the Threshold Tricks. I started making GIF sets for the Threshold Tricks as well.

The efforts of doing these things helped me realize that for The Bigger Thresholds Trick, that I should check each visit to see if a visual marker for each "touch" is there.

The pub had two lanes, yes, but there should be two of something, that is preferably not the doors, the windows, or the doorknobs. And there is. There are two posts. I had mainly ever noticed the post at the end of the panel, but there is a post at the wall, parallel to the one at the panel. I found it only once I put in a little extra effort to look.

Well, then...is there a singular thing for the music shop? Yes, the dialogue even clues you into what it is: there is one sign on the window.

Things were sinking in. I kind of knew that, but I didn't know to what extent.

As mentioned in the previous post for this series, I noticed a little rainbow on a standing chandelier in the Single of The Pocket Trick. I was by then aware that every ridiculous tiny detail about The Pocket Trick was worth exploring or questioning at least a little further.

I'm a huge Rainbow Dash fan. She was my obsession before this one of David Tennant as Crowley, and through her, I grew quite fond of rainbows as well. In the back of my mind, I also remembered that post asking about the rainbows in the show. As much of a delight as it was to see that tiny rainbow in that little place during the Single, I knew enough for it to give me pause.

Did the other touches have rainbows? There was definitely one in Triple Part 2, yes. I should check the others.

I found them. The Double was a bit tricky to find because the rainbows are actually found away from Crowley when he isn't on screen, but that's presumably because he's doing this one with the thumbs inside the pockets instead of outside the pockets.

Why would rainbows show up in The Pocket Trick?

I looked up "pockets" and "rainbows" together in a Google search to find out that...there is an Elvis Presley song titled, "A Pocketful of Rainbows."

By the way, Elvis is in Good Omens, both the book and season 1 of the show.

I happily made a post showing the rainbows and remarking that it's one of the easier aspects of The Pocket Trick. In fact, I tried to draft about it in my updates for my main post on The Pocket Trick. While doing that draft, I wrote something to the effect of, "This aspect of The Pocket Trick is strangely easy compared to everything else in The Pocket Trick, but since I'm a huge Rainbow Dash fan, I'm not complaining."

...

And me saying that gave me pause yet again. I'm not complaining about something with The Pocket Trick?

Was I perhaps not complaining because...there's something more to it?

In fact...you know something...that does seem a little...too easy for something in The Pocket Trick. Why is it too easy?

What could even make rainbows more difficult to begin with?

Oh no.

No no no no no.

The game wouldn't.

...

Oh, yes it would.

...

You have got to be kidding me.

...Did the Pocket Chain...have a Rainbow Connection?

After all, the Rainbow Connection is a song from The Muppets movie.

I really lucked out on that idea. For a lot of these puzzles, I've had to do basic searches to find certain pieces because I don't get every reference. These days, I don't watch many movies or much TV, but I've seen enough to have seen The Muppet Movie and know that song.

As a reminder, or possible clarification if I glossed over it in this series, I had a long-standing theory that Crowley and Aziraphale connected their homes during Good Omens 2 causing a supernatural border to disappear or expand. They accomplished such a thing by borrowing each other's homes.

So, the word "connection" was buried somewhere in my mind for this story already with the work I had done in my play for the sideburns game.

The Pocket Trick does indeed have a Rainbow Connection, and we'll go over that later.

I didn't realize these two thoughts were related as they occurred so closely together, but I made a post that there seemed to be a mirror involved with the Tied Hands because they sometimes switch which hand they are tied to. It happened at least in the first two touches of the Triple, and I suspected maybe it happened in The Door Trick, even if you can't see the strands swinging. I vaguely suspected reflections mattered with The Pocket Trick but had long given up on figuring out why. They were just...around enough to be noticed as happening or seeing reflective surfaces. I had no idea to how join them with for why they mattered...until now.

Finally, the ideas collided. I wasn't just dealing with puns.

The word play went beyond that.

See, when I worked on my Pocket Trick post and explaining the Tied Hands, I did briefly consider that perhaps the word "cord" was better suited than "strands" to describe the tie. Were these things truly thin enough to be "strands"? Using the word "cord" instead never sat quite right with me because "strands" and "hands" rhyme. and given that I thought of The Pocket Trick itself as a rather playful thing, rhymes made more sense for what it was trying to do.

So, now another word play idea formed in my head. The tie strands might switch which hand they are tied to because of a Rainbow Connection Reflection.

But I would have to find it if possible.

I was incredibly suspicious that The Door Trick was using these mechanics, and that this imaginary mirror was at work there, so I wanted to explore this possibility further.

In that second cut where I could never see if anything was special or significant about it, there is a girl near Crowley. She is yawning and wearing a light yellow jacket with gray pants. Further behind her and Crowley is a man wearing a yellow shirt. Even though her jacket is light yellow, I figured it's yellow enough that I know that's the proper color.

I did saturate the screenshot to convey the color when I brought up this idea in the works in a post.

I thought maybe the mirror flips during The Door Trick. There could also be a way to flip it back.

So, curious about this possible mechanic, that meant looking at the touches yet again for both the rainbow colors and the reflections.

There is a lot I don't remember exactly about playing such as when I pulled reflections into my searching for the Rainbow Connection. Based on what I do remember, reflections were probably put on hold because I just wanted to confirm for myself a Rainbow Connection existed at all.

...

We'll approach this idea, for now, as only looking to see that a Rainbow Connection exists because there really is only one bigger clue that supports the other numerous smaller clues.

Before I get into this stuff, I'm just going to tell you that I did figure out that Black, White, Gray, and Brown do things. I'll mention them a few times below.

Here is the first touch (Triple Part 1):

That looks like Red and Orange based on the human over to the camera's right. If her orange doesn't count, maybe it's the shoes to the left of the human standing with his back to the camera.

When this touch ends, I had along ago speculated that the Tied Hands might untie.

Then Crowley talks to Nina. That's not a touch itself for The Pocket Trick, but it seemed a relevant intermission and possibly a way for the Tied Hands to retie if I were right on that speculation of them untying shortly before. When Crowley and Nina look over to Maggie, Maggie is wearing an orange headband. Crowley's head is visually near a bunch of yellow lights, one notably bigger than the others by the end of the interaction.

That scene looks like Orange and Yellow.

Here is the second touch (Triple Part 2):

That looks like Yellow, Green, and Blue. The yellow is the lights and some yellow thing near the humans. The green is the plants in the car. The blue is mainly a nearby car.

Black and White are there and seemingly used to help trap the Green from the plants with the findable rainbow, so that the Green can be used for The Door Trick later.

Here is the third touch (Double):

Now here is where it gets more difficult.

We were reminded we left off on Blue before the pocket touch itself happened:

But finding Purple is not easy.

One findable rainbow is on Mr. Arnold's shirt.

The other findable rainbow is near Mr. Arnold involving some things behind him, mostly paper.

The "purple" of that rainbow is actually more like a magenta, but I had used an eye-dropper tool in a graphics editing program that looked close enough to purple to me and more purple than the few magenta-like colors near Crowley.

Even if I had not done such things, the magenta object is on top of a gray object. Gray shades, and with that shading, that magenta would then be allowed to be Purple.

But even so...despite all of that, the purple of those rainbows are for being part of the easier, findable rainbows.

We want a Purple detached from them.

The music shop is full of not purple besides those rainbows themselves.

Oh, there they are....by even more rainbows.

How did I miss those rainbows?

They are gradients shown earlier in the scene. Aziraphale covers them past a certain point, making them easy to miss.

Why do we have 4 rainbows? We are only using 2 pockets.

It's The Pocket Trick messing with us.

The rainbows are on connectors, so that we know those rainbows are for the Rainbow Connection.

I wasn't completely sure when I wrote a never-published draft saying so, but I had a good laugh at the "connectors," so rolled with it.

Sometime along the way, I figured out that Aziraphale ensures the Rainbow Connection switches to Blue by the end of the scene.

That means our Rainbow Connection went down from Red to Purple and is now starting to go up from Purple to Red.

This play is also our bigger clue that the Rainbow Connection is there. We have conveniently found a Double Purple with connectors in the Double of The Pocket Trick to direct the connection upward in a space otherwise quite lacking in Purple. The convenience is too strong to be a mere coincidence instead of a clue.

Convenient as it may be, we still had to look and think about it to get there. We had to play to find it.

Here is the fourth touch (Triple Part 3):

We are reminded or confirmed to be on Blue.

This one looks like a bunch. We've got Blue, Green, Yellow, Orange, and Red.

There is a human in Black and White wearing suspenders. Did they "suspend" something happening on screen? Perhaps something to do with the yellow in the yellow lights? Yellow lights are relevant to the door trickery in episode 6.

Here is the fifth touch (Single):

That one looks like Red and Orange.

The Rainbow Connection has started to go down from Red to Purple again.

Now I've been curious about The Door Trick all along as why I'm even going through all this trouble, so it's time to take a good look.

I spent several hours one afternoon that I think was a Sunday going over it. I joked within the draft that I couldn't keep referencing what would come up in the next cut or a later scene to tell me how the Connection went because eventually, there is no next cut or scene to tell me how it ends.

Well, that process was not published, but it helped a lot because it hit me that, whatever it was that red lights were related to colors being ready for use in the Rainbow connection. The red lights were notably relevant in the framing during these parts with Aziraphale:

...

Now let's look at The Door Trick.

We are clued into starting on Orange right away.

I've already got my theoretical Yellow.

Aziraphale looks like he's stuck on Yellow for awhile.

With those plants in Crowley's car and those leaves near the pub...we end at Green.

Oh, that makes sense because then you can still actually see the Rainbow Connection is intact and there during The Window Trick and the ending credits.

I progressed enough in seeing this Rainbow Connection that I made a post even though I needed to sit with the curious stall of Aziraphale being on Yellow for as long as he was.

I ran through the Rainbow Connection again, making pictures, and struggling to figure out how the switches happen.

Through all of that process, I had a very limited understanding of what happened, but I had enough that I felt worth sharing.

It's honestly rather intense play even though you know how the story ends since one thing you're trying to work out is that Crowley and Aziraphale are working together separately, as they did more obviously during the ball invitations.

In that mysterious second cut with Yawning Yellow, Crowley wants to hit Yellow twice. A girl nearby swings her left arm in place of the Tied Hands to represent that such a thing happens at all.

Crowley is further helped by something resembling a color wheel of humans pocket-framing the "Life begins after coffee" sign. With this color wheel, and the girl swinging her arms, and the non-rainbow shades with their special mechanics, the Rainbow Connection goes to Purple and back up to Yellow so that Yellow can be hit twice.

Because that happened, the Rainbow Connection itself is now going back up instead of continuing down. However, the goal is to make Green next, not Orange, because we want the Rainbow Connection to end at Green so that it can be there for The Window Trick and closing credits.

That's why Aziraphale was stuck on Yellow.

You may recall that I mentioned something is off about how the Metatron plays the game. I described it my own speculation that it's like he's cheating without realizing it, or the story isn't letting him play fully, just partly.

His doorknob and pocket usage seemed or felt off.

Even watching the show the first time, that cut of his finger pressing the button raises some suspicion because, for me, it was like, "What, is he human?"

The Metatron uses pockets like Crowley does, or tries to, but he still doesn't do it quite the same. For instance, he puts the entire hand in the pockets, not concerning himself with keeping the thumb out at all.

Well, this whole Rainbow Connection bit sheds some light on the Metatron.

The Metatron inadvertently helps Aziraphale get the Rainbow Connection back on track. Aziraphale himself doesn't seem aware through his voice and manner of what is happening, but the actions he takes do otherwise look like an effective stalling tactic for the Rainbow Connection.

After the Metatron says, "We call it the Second Coming," he makes three mistakes that I hope I have right based on the word play mechanics and my own imagination ability. They go Deflection, Redirection, and Disconnection. Rule of Three!

That means we'll get the Rainbow Connection to go back up, as desired.

Aziraphale senses something. He looks over at Crowley.

Many fans, from my own observations, have taken note of this cut. They have asked what this look could mean. Some have suggested, "Trust me."

Now it took me awhile to get it, just by watching fans ask it again on my Tumblr timeline and my own re-examination of things on screen, but I got it not long after I figured out The Door Catch exists.

I've played Earthly Objects long enough to tell you that, "Trust me," is not the answer. I'm reasonably sure of myself on it.

Never do the same trick twice. This rule idea is especially true to the Threshold Tricks.

I know the Rule of Three.

I know where that cut is between the cuts of Crowley and the incoming three cuts of Aziraphale.

Word play comes into play and so that cut is Ground Zero because it has zero ground in it.

Because we are at Ground Zero, the look means, "Here goes nothing."

It's a hidden message from the game.

We've already uncovered a hidden message in the game that goes, "The tie strands are connected to the hands because they are Crowley's Tied Hands."

With a little further thought after some days or maybe even a couple of weeks, I realized another hidden message within the scene of The Door Catch. That message is, "The Metatron makes mistakes."

The Metatron does not get whatever hinge he needs done when he presses that button because it lacks the left thumb CMC joint in the framing.

His mistake is also a clue about those non-rainbow shades that must be combined with a lot of other clues the game gave us in The Pocket Trick. The shades have a findable poem that's a quatrain. The poem goes:

Black blocks.

Brown borrows.

Gray shades.

White keeps.

Hopefully the "a" in "gray" is acceptable over the "e," but if it does matter that I made the difference, just know I'm doing it because I admit freely I speak and read U.S. English as my native language.

The Gray of the elevator could shade that Gold to Yellow with better play, but that's not happening. The Black is blocking out the Gray of the elevator. The White is holding the Gold as Gold, so it's not shifting over to Yellow. The Metatron cannot use his dark Brown to borrow anything to make use of that Gray because of that missed hinge touch.

I'm not sure I have the message exactly right, but my translation of it goes, "The Rainbow Connection ends at Green thanks to a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow."

I had that quatrain in mind long before I admitted it because it's an incredibly weird thing to even be able to find. I couldn't say what these colors did every time I saw them. Black may block, but I don't always know what it's blocking at times when I feel it's there and on. So, how can I say that's what they do? I have some guesses in a few places but not all. I still couldn't let it go, and it still feels like something I know, even if I can't fully explain every move or mechanic in the process.

...

Alright, let's go back to the first touch of The Pocket Trick because it's the one with the most obvious Rainbow Connection Reflection.

A lot of the following is based on my already existing post that explains what the Tied Hands are, but I am trying to slim things down for this part. The format provided is different. The images below are significantly brightened to show things. The GIFs are slowed down too.

As a review, here is the cut that introduces the Tied Hands in Triple Part 1 of The Pocket Trick:

There is a human to the camera's right and behind Crowley carrying a red purse. She is wearing red and orange. We are either starting on Red for the Rainbow Connection or we will be starting once Red is...ready.

Take a look at this particular video frame:

The left thumb joint has a blurred vertex touch, a hinge, with the jacket. Given what eventually happens, that makes this blur a pass that's going to let us see the Tied Hands better than we usually do.

It looks like we have another such vertex touch between the left jacket sleeve and the back of the jacket. They help create a small pocket with the watch involved. More clarity will happen with the left thumb joint later. The watch is on red alert.

Generally speaking, this video frame is trying to communicate to an audience player that edges are thresholds. Another edge of significance in this video frame is the front of the jacket near the garbage bin.

The watch being on red alert is telling us that Red for the Rainbow Connection is ready.

The touch proceeds further.

Now let's take a look at this part here:

This part is so important, let's take the exact shot I want others to notice:

There is a pocket between Crowley's left hand, the watch, the left jacket sleeve, and the left jacket side-to-back area. It's a lot like our previous vertex touch but not quite. This pocket is special because the left jacket sleeve is more evident to be over the edge of that back area of the jacket. Their connection is not direct edge-to-edge, or close enough anyway, like the earlier version. One edge extends over the other. Other parts of the apparel were more evenly lined up with edges before too, but here, they are not trying so hard.

Over edges? Why does this framing want us to notice parts are over edges as we study the Rainbow Connection mechanics of The Pocket Trick?

I think it's because there is a song titled "Over the Rainbow" in the movie, The Wizard of Oz.

This video frame gives us an "over-the-rainbow" touch.

Crowley's reflection can now be found in the window pane to his right. Due to the lighting, angles, movement, whatever, a bit of red is touching the Crowley reflection.

Now we have our Rainbow Connection Reflection.

With our Rainbow Connection Reflection, the imaginary mirror of the Tied Hands is flipped.

Because it flipped, the Tied Hands switch which hand they are tied to.

I already covered The Door Trick and The Door Catch, but that door trickery is why I was so very interested in this mechanic. It's such a curious thing to even do at all.

Other flips do happen in the other touches, but they are harder to play.

I wanted to cover this over-edges aspect because that potential reference lets us meet a Rule of Three. We now have 3 rainbow songs related to The Pocket Trick.

Those songs are "A Pocketful of Rainbows" by Elvis Presley, "The Rainbow Connection" from The Muppet Movie, and "Over the Rainbow" from the movie, The Wizard of Oz.

Something all three of these songs have in common is that they are U.S. based songs found in movies.

We're stopping here.

Up next, we're going to fail spectacularly at taking a break from the pockets as we try to look at Crowley's character relationship with Muriel.

(For reference: Trickery)

[dpr-stay]

No Longer | J.S

Johnny Suh x Singer! Reader

Warnings: I think swearing, hurt/comfort ( i didn't want to write comfort but couldn't resist), nct flopping in this universe.

WC: ~3.3k

Hi, bit of a small one but my holidays end tomorrow so I thought i'd get something out before then. Also me writing a serious fic? That's not about silly little guys in cars? What???? Also i'm sorry how disjointed the paragraphs are, this ones been baking for a loooong time and I didn't edit it L O L.

The shirt felt too tight around his chest and squeezing his arms into the suit jacket that followed it was a task of nightmares. And it made sense it didn’t fit, given that he had borrowed it from Taeil. Borrowed or begged for, what’s the difference?

Johnny anxiously adjusted his cuffs, pulling the black sleeves down to cover the flat-ironed cuffs of the white shirt underneath. He couldn’t complain that the suit was too short though. Taeil was kind enough to lend it to him at a very short-term notice. He just hoped no one there would comment on the ill fit.

If Taeil had noticed Johnny’s nerves as he busted into his room and frantically asked if he could borrow a suit, he didn’t mention it, which Johnny was very thankful for. He didn’t know how he would explain anything to anyone he knew if they asked about this.

He frantically checked his watch as the hands ticked closer and closer to 10pm. He strongly exhaled and leaned his head back against the hard seats of the taxi. He shut his eyes before opening them and accidentally making eye contact with the driver who was eyeing him through the mirror.

The driver quickly averted his eyes and Johnny released a small breath of air that could be heard as a chuckle. Johnny supposed he did look ridiculous. Barely put together, hair hanging wildly around his face, small suit paired with all-black trainers that he could’ve sworn were dress shoes when he grabbed them as he was rushing out the door.

Glancing out the window, all that greeted him was more traffic. He sighed and, as if summoned, drops of rain started hitting the glass panes. He once again adjusted his view forward and was met with the sight of the back of another car, altered by the many streaks of water running down the windshield.

The traffic then finally started moving and, as the taxi turned a corner, a brightly lit theatre came into view. Individual lightbulbs giving off more yellow than white light lined a board that hung over the entrance and ticket booth. The individual letters slotted into the board read, in all caps, “WORLD-FAMOUS SINGER SWEET-HEART PERFORMS 10PM SATURDAY”.

Johnny felt his breath catch in his throat as the taxi eventually slowed to a halt just outside the entrance. He quickly paid the driver and opened the door. The rain pelted him on the head as he gazed up at the signage.

“Sir? Are you here for the show?” Johnny’s head snapped to the ticket booth. He quickly walked over and searched for his ticket in his pockets. He grabbed it and presented it to the teenager working the stand.

“You’re lucky to get a ticket, I heard they sold out within 2 minutes.” The cashier chuckled as they scanned his ticket. Johnny contemplated this as he remembered the envelope Mark had slipped him earlier today, saying that he needed to see this.

He hadn’t understood his insistence until google had aided him in his search of ‘who is Sweet-Heart?’. How Mark had heard of you but he didn’t, he’ll never know. Johnny also made a mental reminder to pay back Mark with dinner or something, depending on how the night turned out.

“Well you’re all set. Enjoy the show!” The teen handed back the ticket and gestured Johnny inside the venue.

The inside was completely different from what Johnny expected. He knew it was a black suit event but the extravagant high ceilings with draped red and gold curtains and the eggshell white walls, covered in carving after carving, really put it into perspective.

The room was practically deserted apart from the clerk sitting lazily at the end behind a lecturn who straightened up after he saw him, obviously thinking everyone had entered the large oak doors behind him. Johnny followed the red carpet along the hardwood floors finally making it to the clerk, who awkwardly turned around and opened the doors.

Johnny, who was standing directly in between the two doors, was not expecting them to open onto a large hall, completely dark except from huge fog-lights shining on a stage. A stage from which a heavenly voice floated to Johnny’s ears, a voice so nice he doubted any recording could convey its melodies. 

And Johnny would definitely have to take Mark out to dinner at some point because up on stage was his Sweetheart, though he doubts she would remember the name being used by him due to years of no use. 

You had been friends while kids, both living within walking distance of each other and attending the small school. You had spent your early years being together constantly and being teased about being together constantly. Johnny could’ve bet that around highschool your years-deep friendship could’ve ended up going down a different path if you didn’t pack up in the middle of the night and move away without telling anyone and then never answering anyones texts or calls.

That had been a very difficult time for the young man, knowing that someone so close to him, someone he thought about everyday though it had been years since he’d last seen you, could just abandon him without a second thought, so when Mark had offered him tickets to your show, he couldn’t refuse regardless of the harm it was sure to cause him.

And, standing alone in the corridor between seated guests, Johnny could only take in the scale of what you had achieved without him. Thousands of people were seated here to watch you perform. You, an english speaker, in a room full of older Korean people, who were listening just because of how ethereal your voice sounded, even to the untrained ear. Even his google search had unprepared him for the magnitude of your popularity, though the sold out theater definitely began to put it into perspective.

The backlight of the foyer was enough to draw your attention to him, your voice never faltering even though your attention did. And through the large auditorium he could see a flash of recognition adorn your face, the missed note that caught in your breath as your eyes focused onto his silhouette.

The crowd surrounding Johnny grumbled at the pause in your serenade and you snapped your eyes from his face to stare another place in the room, desperately trying to avoid a repeat event as your eyes roved wild around the room. 

Johnny felt his breath catch and his heart begin beating rapidly. You recognised him. Somehow from this huge crowd, you were able to see him and remember him. You were able to remember one of the only people who knew you before this and, at one point, had probably known you better than you knew yourself.

Murmurs in the crowd prompted Johnny to thank the door man and lumber down to his seat in one of the rows. After a few “excuse-me”’s, Johnny reached his seat, which seemed to be the only empty one of the house, and began to watch the rest of your performance. 

The voice of an angel was truly an understatement, there was no way to convey the serenity of your vocals. No singer Johnny had ever listened to, no Cher, no Ariana, no Whitney, could even come close to matching the peace that encapsulated him when he heard your voice. Sure, maybe it was bias from a love that hadn’t been tampered with by time, but according to the sold-out theater, Johnny couldn’t be sure.

During your performance Johnny had to close his eyes to absorb the sheer impact of the fact that this whole time he could’ve been listening to your voice over his earphones or that he could have watched you grow from a small singer into the powerhouse you were today, but he wasn’t able to. And that was because you’d left. 

You’d just up and left, never to be in contact with him again. This whole time Johnny had thought that he’d never see you again. Maybe that would’ve been a good thing, considering the amount of consideration you had for his feelings. But when had looked at him, Johnny knew that you recognised him. There was no way you didn’t. You wouldn’t just stop singing if someone came late to your show, right? 

No, that’s ridiculous. As a performer, even in incredibly different venues, Johnny knew that people coming late didn’t inspire a reaction such as that. 

It was that flash of seeing someone you knew. Johnny knew it, it had happened to him when his family had first flown over and were able to see his first stage. At the time just seeing his family's faces had the power to make him choke up. 

Eventually the show came to a close after thunderous applause and people started standing up, but Johnny was rooted to his spot. He was debating between legging it out of there and trying to erase everything he’d seen and legging it out of there and keeping everything to himself. However he didn’t get a chance to choose as, when he stood up, an usher came to meet him in the aisle. A hurried explanation from the man exposed that you wanted to meet him. 

Johnny felt his heart stop, stood stupidly still as people of all ages filed through the corridor he was blocking, muttering cusses his way. But that didn’t phase him, he roomed with a bunch of teenage boys for a large part of his life. What did phase him was the knowledge that you wanted to see him.

Did you want to talk? What, did you want to finally explain what the hell happened? Why he hadn’t heard from you in years only to finally see you with a life better than anything he could’ve given you? Why, after years of him preaching to you about how hard it was to become a singer, you had done it anyway? And how you’d done leagues better than anything he’d ever accomplished?

He still regretted how many years of his life he’d spent pining over the idol dream, how many sleepless nights he’d spent wondering if he could’ve been spending his life better but convincing himself it would be worth it only for it all to blow up in face and for his group to do terribly. They were on the verge of disbanding and here you were, with your fully booked house.

He shouldn’t feel bitter though. He had no connection to you in the present, every interaction with you was in the past. That’s the attitude Johnny had in his mind as he followed the usher, ignoring the confused looks he was getting as he was led backstage. He was so focused on retaining this ‘fan, not friend’ mindset, he didn’t even realise he was in front of your dressing room door before the usher tapped him on the shoulder.

He quickly thanked the man before turning back to your door and knocking. It took a minute but slowly the door handle started turning. Johnny took a step back as the door opened his way and there you were.

You were just as beautiful, if not more, than how he remembered you. You still had that persistent curl in your hair that you had to spend hours ironing out, still held yourself in the same posture, and still wore your heart on your sleeve. At least he had thought you wore your heart on your sleeve. But if that was true, he wouldn’t have been blindsided by your leaving. 

He remained quiet as you took a shaky breath. He didn’t know why your breath was shaky, you were the one who’d deleted all your accounts after leaving, not letting him contact you.

“It really is you.” You whispered out and Johnny glanced up at you, more specifically the tears building in your eyes. He let his face remain completely passive as you launched yourself at him, feeling you grip the suit he wore with such force he may have to iron it before returning it. 

He held his arms out wide as you clung to him like a drowning person clinging to a life vest, as though he was holding you up. A wet patch formed on the suit jacket, making it through to his white shirt, making him frown. Why were you crying? You’d left him behind.

“Oh my god.” He heard you breathe into his jacket and he left one pat on your back before stepping back, making you stumble as you were forced to release him. He ignored your confused expression and the tears falling out of your eyes in favour of looking at the makeup smudged onto his suit, a ‘tch’ escaping his mouth at the sight.

“I-I’m sorry about that.” You hiccupped, a tone he didn’t recognise plaguing your voice. “I can get it-t dry cleaned.” He looked up, once again ignoring the way his heart squeezed at the tears falling down your cheeks. You shouldn’t get to be sad, it was your fault.

“No need.” He said, his voice a bit more aggressive than he intended for a child-hood friend turned ghost-lover. He cleared his throat before starting the mini-speech he had hastily made in his head as he was led by the usher.

“Listen, you did great out there,” He ignored the enchanting smile that encompassed your face because of his praise.

“You did fantastic even, but I don’t know why you asked for me to come back here.” He said, watching the way your face fell.

“W-well I thought after like ten years you’d be happy to see me…” You said and he held back a scoff, still wanting to preserve as many of your feelings even though you hadn’t done the same for him.

“I don’t know why you’d think that.” He said coldly and didn’t see the way your face crumpled as though you’d been stabbed because he’d turned around and prepared to leave. A hand grabbed his wrist and he slightly turned to look at you.

“What happened? Why are you so mad?” You asked quietly and he didn’t hold back his laugh. He turned fully and stomped into your room, you backing away, only being pushed by his presence.

“Why am I so mad?” He asked, his fists clenched and an incredulous tone rampant through his voice.

“Why am I so mad?! You left! You just left in the middle of the night! I didn’t get to say goodbye, I didn’t get to say anything!” He ranted, turning and pacing up and down your changeroom. You were stunned, not being able to answer him which only seemed to fuel him.

“And then what, a decade later I finally find you again. Only to see you’re doing incredible and, good for you and all, but you’re doing incredible without me! You’re living a better life alone, with no regard for me, than anything I could’ve ever given you!” Your continued silence seemed to drain all the fight out of him.

“That’s why I’m mad. I shouldn’t have come. God, Mark just did this to fuck with me.” He sighed, rubbing a hand on his forehead before turning to you again.

“Look, I’m happy for you, but I think it would be best if-”

“I’ve thought about you everyday since I left y’know. I’d wonder how you were doing. I was there when you debuted, I don’t know if you know. I was in the crowd. I watched you look at your family and I was happy. I was happy that you were happy.” You suddenly spoke up, your words knocking the air out of Johnny’s body.

“All through our school years I’d see you with other kids and see how you were able to interact freely with them and how you were always smiling. And I saw that and I thought ‘How could I ever be that happy?’. I finally realised my happiness was with you but then I realised that that was too selfish, I needed to find a way to be happy without relying on you.” 

“So you fucking left? You think I’d care that you were happy with me?” Johnny interrupted, getting mad again. 

“I left because I thought that I would stop how happy you were, regardless of my own feelings. Everyone knows, you can’t be an idol with a partner, it just doesn’t work out. We both knew that’s where we were going. I knew that if I didn’t leave, I’d eventually end up without you anyways, and it would be easier to start making my own happiness earlier.” You said and Johnny went quiet for a second.

There was a million questions he wanted to ask. Why didn’t you say goodbye? Why didn’t you give us a chance? Why did you become a singer? But he eventually settled on:

“Did it work? Are you happy without me?” He asked hesitantly, almost afraid of the answer. You took a pause before a second wave of tears flooded down your cheeks. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever regretted anything more.” He could barely hear you through the hiccups reverberating through your throat. 

“Everyday I’ve tried to tell myself that it was for the best, but I can never seem to convince myself. It’s torture, knowing I gave up without trying, that we could’ve been something. But I fucked it up, and it’s my responsibility.” You could barely get it out, choked sobs interrupting your monologue. Johnny could only watch as the person he’d once regarded as the love of his life broke down in front of him.

“Y-you don’t have to stick around, you can leave if you want.” You choked out after a minute but Johnny stayed still, the many questions he had fighting to spawn on the tip of his tongue. But before he could ask more you took a shuddering breath and slid down a wall to the floor, wrapping your arms around your drew up knees and hanging your head before your knees and chest.

After a moment, Johnny slid down the wall with you. Questions could wait, you crying would always be his top priority, even when he was still mad at you. He wrapped his arms around your shuddering form and whispered sweet nothings as you continued to sob. After a few minutes you stopped sobbing, quietly sniffling, and Johnny continued to sit there, you savoring the feeling of being wrapped in his arms.

“I’d understand if you never saw me again.” You said quietly and you felt Johnny nod against your head, an action that inspired more tears to leak from your eyes. It had always been too good to last.

“Unfortunately sometimes what we probably should do is not what we want to do.” He said quietly, placing a kiss against your head, leaving you to ponder the meaning behind that sentence. After a few seconds he sighed.

“I don’t think I’d ever not want to be with you.” He said and you tried to swivel your head to look at him, but you were held back by his arms.

“But I definitely need time. I have and probably always will love you, but right now, I don’t trust you.” As much as it hurt to say, Johnny knew it was the right thing to do. Johnny was only affirmed in this when you nodded your head below his chin. He turned you around to make eye contact with you, taking in your red eyes and wobbly chin. He pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

“I’ve missed you.” While sweet, it still prompted you to burst into a fresh set of tears, one which Johnny teasingly rolled his eyes at.

“Crybaby.” He joked and you could only laugh, happy to be reunited with your happiness.

bah, humbug. Not checking formatting, sorry!!!

[lendywendy]

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[kyglow]

" if things got too serious around here then i'd let you borrow my water but only you. " the older male favoured her yet felt a great swell of shame for being infatuated and attracted to the young woman who worked as a baker for obvious reasons due to the age gap however he tried his hardest to keep conversations sparse and minimal even if they were cordial at best as he was worried he would flirt and say something which could get him into trouble. seated now and embarrassed with how he appeared to be so weak and vulnerable he would behave and act as if everything was fine. not thinking it was serious but figuring out that he hadn't been moving for too long while he had been stationary for a long time looking up while on his back fixing her sink. he wavered his hand and mustered up a quaint smile. " yeah yeah i am fine. " he assured her not wanting to worry her. a glass of water would be brought to him as he momentarily stared at it with a pause and then shifted his eyes to lock with her gaze. " thank you. " taking the glass in hand with digits unintentionally brushing along the top of hers as he would bring the glass to his mouth and proceeded to swallow the contents of water from the glass in big gulps. water trickled down the edges of his mouth and down his neck as he felt it rolling over his hair-covered pecs.

setting the empty glass down he let out a gasp of air and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. " no food but thank you. i was expecting a beer actually but yes it is quite hot. i hadn't realised that i've been stuck under that sink for hours without moving. " he sheepishly smiled and lowered his head only to then glance back at her with a tiny innocent smile. " you're very helpful but i should probably head back and do some exercises to get the blood pumping. my joints are a little stiff. " he didn't want to linger or impose by making his problems hers. it would have been much better and his situation prevented if he were sexually active but unfortunately, the single father hadn't received any action in six months. miller hoped in secret she wouldn't google or search up how to fix his current issue as he wanted to leave as quick as possible.

"Thank God, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to run a bakery without working water." It had barely turned on today when she got in before the sun was up and she'd been Googling how to fix it for hours. She'd made some progress but nothing like what Miller was able to get done when she'd finally went over and knocked on his door. "I really appreciate it and if there's anything -" the words were hardly out of her mouth before some kind of dizzy spell came over him and he was right back in his seat. "Shit, are you okay?" Eloise asked, concern flooding her face as she moved closer. "Of course, yeah, one second." She quickly moved towards the kitchen where there were a couple of coolers filled with water and, for good measure, she grabbed one of the fresh croissants she'd just made that morning. "Here...um water and something to eat just in case. Are you okay? Is it hot in here?" Eloise asked, not having realized the temperature and how warm he must have been after working until she noticed him unbuttoning his shirt. "I should open a window."

[muchamusedaboutnothing]

Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 10

Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 10

Characters: Dean x doctor!Reader, Sam Winchester

This story is Act 7 of a saga.

New to the story? Get caught up on the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

All your favorite Winchesters are alive, in spite of the curse that nearly took them from you. After coming so close to losing the only family you have left in this world, you’re taking matters into your own hands. There’s a witch to hunt.

Series Warnings:

Character injuries/sickness - Take note that no one is excluded from this.

Canon-typical violence and language.

Lots of whump.

Lots of caring for hurt characters.

Smut (18 Only. NSFW. You were warned.)

Angst.

Fluff.

Medical talk. Is that even a warning

Image Credit: bing image search, google image search, @devoiddean  , @soluscheese , @princesshamlet  , @becauseofthebowties  , @welcometothedarkside  , @sammysnaughtygirl ,  

Wordcount: 1904

Chapter 10

"I've got it," Dean said enthusiastically as he shoved an old book into Sam's hands. "Found a cloaking spell that looks promising.” He pointed with a finger. “Middle of the page, right here." 

Sam gazed at the incantation and the description below it. “Cloaking flame, I ignite you. The fire born from blood leaves behind no man … ” Sam translated out loud, reading from the first few lines. He glanced up at Dean again. "How long does it work?"

"Best I can tell, a couple of hours. Just long enough for me to get there.” Dean shrugged. “That's all I'm worried about."

Sam furrowed his brow as he silently read the incantation again. "You're certain this will cloak you and your location?"

"There's only one way to find out." Dean crooked an eyebrow and stared at his brother.

"That's easier said than done. You can't exactly try it out and just walk out of here without risking everything."

"I'll do it," Addie said, drawing both their gazes to her. "I mean it. Let me test it out for you."

Sam sighed. "You don't have to do that."

"I'm the only one who can," she answered. "Neither of you can leave the bunker, just in case it doesn’t work."

Dean gave Addie his best grin, practically oozing with Winchester charm. "Alright, then."

"I don't know," Sam said slowly. 

Sam wasn't particularly fond of the idea of disappearing Addie to test out Dean's theory, but he could see he was outnumbered in the decision-making. “The spell requires blood, and there’s a lot of talk about fire….”

"It'll be fine, Sam," Addie assured him. "Besides, a cloaking spell? That could be fun. As long as you can handle Jonah without me until it wears off."

“That we can do,” Dean insisted, seeing that Sam still wasn’t convinced. “I’m gonna hit up the supply room and gather the ingredients.” Jonah cried out through the baby monitor just then, awake from his nap. “I’ve got him,” Dean said. “I’ll take him with me. You two stay here and talk it out. Oh, and Addie, we’re going to need something of yours for the locator spell.”

Addie nodded as Dean leaned in to snap a picture of the spell on his phone and headed for Jonah's nursery.

Addie and the guys stood in the bunker’s library half an hour later with Jonah safely in his swing nearby in the war room.

A conglomerate of herbal ingredients was prepared in a bowl on one of the tables, along with a single black candle.

"So," Addie said. "I'll just go invisible or something?"

"If all goes well," Dean answered.

"It's not too late to change your mind," Sam said in a half-hearted attempt to talk her out of it.

Addie shook her head. "No way. We've got this. I'm ready."

Dean gave Addie a nod before looking at Sam. Sam hesitated, still wary of letting Addie be the test subject.

Dean glared at him. "Come on, man. Every minute I'm here is another minute my wife is out there alone against the Borrower who tried to take Jonah from us and forced her to stop both our hearts. We don't have time to screw around."

"He's right, Sam," Addie said. "Look, you're worried about me. It's sweet. But being invisible for a few hours is no big deal. Really."

Dean had a knife laid out on the table, and Addie reached out to take it. She only winced a little as she drew the blade along the palm of her hand at the base of her thumb just hard enough to draw blood. Sam shifted on his feet, concern in his eyes as he watched her squeeze a trickle of blood into the ingredients bowl.

“That’s good,” Dean told her gently to let her know they had enough as he gently took her hand and wrapped it with a gauze roll and some Coban to keep pressure on the cut.

“Your wife has taught you well,” Addie said with a smile as he released her hand again when he was satisfied with the bandage.

“She does that,” Dean said in agreement, smiling.

Sam took a deep breath to focus and raised the spell book in one hand, looking to Addie. “Ready?”

Addie nodded. Dean used a lighter to put a flame to the candle, holding it out for Sam to take. Sam poured melted wax from it into the ingredients bowl slowly as he recited the incantation out loud. At the end of the fourth and final line, Sam dropped the candle into the bowl, setting the contents aflame.

As a result, flames quickly rose from Addie’s feet, enveloping her in an instant. She was still smiling her reassurance at them both when she disappeared in the blaze. The fire was gone as quickly as it came, leaving nothing visible behind.

Addie was gone.

Sam and Dean’s eyes were both wide as they stood there, frozen in place. Sam’s chest huffed with a panicked breath, and Dean turned to look up at him sympathetically. He patted his brother on the shoulder. “She’s okay, Sammy. You’ll see.”

Sam took a second to center himself and said into the space where Addie had just been, “Hey, uh, Addie?”

Jonah let out a little squeal from his swing in the next room over, and Dean glanced over his shoulder toward the sound.

Sam’s phone dinged just then with a notification and he set the spell book down and pulled the phone from his pocket. “Relax, you big adorable Moose. I’m right here.” Sam’s mouth stretched into a smile as he read Addie’s text out loud.

Dean chuckled and said, “Hey, hey. What’d I tell ya? She’s good. She kicks ass.”

Dean gave a big, dopey thumbs-up toward Addie’s last known position, but Jonah complained from his swing, cutting Dean’s victory short.

Sam nodded for Dean to go. “I’ve got this.”

Dean stepped down into the war room to lift the baby out of the swing. "Hey, Joey," he said as he realized the cause of Jonah's distress. "Okay. It's okay. Daddy's here." Dean carried him toward the nursery, chuckling as he added, "Do you think there's a spell that could handle these dirty diapers?"

Sam glanced at the next table over which had been set up for the locator spell, but this time it was one of Addie’s belongings in the mix rather than the witch’s.

“Okay, I guess we should get you outside of the warding,” Sam said to Addie, glancing awkwardly around the library, unsure where to focus. “Just long enough to do the locator spell and see if this is enough to fully cloak you.”

He walked through the war room and ascended the stairway a step at a time, assuming Addie was either two steps ahead of him, or right behind him the whole way. When he reached the bunker door it opened ahead of him, staying open long enough to let him know Addie was standing there watching him.

“Don’t go far. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

The door closed again and Sam made his way down to the library to perform the locator spell.

Dean carried Jonah from the nursery back to the library just as Sam was reciting the locator incantation. Dean stopped short before entering, holding Jonah at a safe distance as he watched. He hoped like hell this would work. He needed to get on the road, and the sooner, the better.

The ring on a chain Sam held tugged and pulled until it was directly over Lebanon on the map, pinpointing Addie’s location. Sam sighed and looked up at Dean apologetically. "I'm sorry. You tried."

Dean's heart sank at the thought of being back to square one, but his resolve didn’t crumble. "I'll find another way," he told Sam. Sam watched as Dean shifted on his feet and then declared, "Gonna go make this little guy a bottle," before heading for the mess hall.

Sam climbed the stairs again and opened the bunker door, calling out to Addie that she could come back inside.

"Hey, do you want to shoot me a text or something and let me know you actually made it back inside okay?"

His phone dinged a moment later and he pulled it from his pocket to read Addie's text.

Boo!

Sam grinned at that and started to walk back down the stairway as he spoke to her. "I can still find you with a locator spell. It was worth a try, but it looks like Dean is going to have to sit this one out after all."

That's a bummer. I'm sure he's upset.

"He'll be okay … I think.”

“He's got Jonah in the mess hall making up a bottle right now. Hopefully, this spell wears off for you in the next couple of hours. In the meantime, how would you like to kill time? Should I put on some Netflix in Dean's man cave?"

Sounds good.

Sam put on a show for Addie and told her to enjoy a much-needed break after everything she'd been doing for him and Dean and the baby, and insisted she texted him if she needed anything. He got a thumbs-up emoji in response before he went to check on Dean.

Dean was lounging in the bedroom the two of you shared. Jonah was lying in the middle of the bed, Dean lightly rubbing his tummy and speaking to him.

"Doing okay?" Sam asked from the doorway.

Dean looked up at the sound of his voice. "Yeah, we're good. How's Addie?"

"Watching TV in your man cave," Sam said as he came forward and sat down on the edge of the bed, smoothing Jonah's hair with his fingers. "At least, I think she is...."

It was Dean's turn to chuckle. “With the cloaking spell, have you tried to see if you can touch each other?” he asked. “I’m just sayin’ … you know if that were me and-” Sam stopped him short with a look. “What?” Dean said with a laugh. “We’d definitely be trying to dance the invisible tango. Why the hell not?”

“I’m not talking to you about my sex life,” Sam said. "And I really don't need to know more about yours."

But he couldn’t hide the fact that he was biting back a smile.

Then Dean followed Sam's gaze to the spell book on the bed and the mood in the room shifted again. Dean was already back to looking for another solution. "Look, Sammy, it's not that I don't have faith in her to handle this Borrower by herself," he said. "It's just that I have to try. If something ever happened to her-"

"You'd never forgive yourself," Sam interrupted. "I know. I get it."

Dean nodded, happy that his brother understood. "Why don't you go hang out with Addie. Netflix and chill, whatever." Sam gave Dean another pointed look. "Look, do whatever you want. Just because she's invisible doesn't mean she has to be alone. Jonah and I are good, and I've got steaks thawing out for dinner. By then your window for invisible mattress dancing may have closed.”

"Holler if you need anything," Sam told him, choosing to ignore the rest of the conversation. Dean nodded. Sam leaned down and kissed Jonah's forehead. "You, too, little buddy. Holler if you need reinforcements."

"Or maybe a diaper change?" Dean teased as Sam left the room.

Act VII Masterlist.

You can find the Masterlist for the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

Please consider supporting my writing by buying me a coffee. In my case, it’s Dr. Pepper, but a little caffeine goes a long way when it comes to writing and posting this labor of love.

Tags are currently closed. Message me if you’d like to be added to the tags for when it opens again.

*HOAH Text divider by the brilliant Talesmaniac89

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[sachsoup]

Search History

Not proof-read, still unfinished, I'll add more later. Sorry for the bad grammar, English isn't my first nor my native language. Also, ooc Wednesday.

Wednesday uses Enid's laptop to answer the questions that had been bugging her for weeks. Since she doesn't know how internet history works and Enid sees the mess.

Prompt by: @green-eyed-black-dragon

Wednesday was at Nevermore's library, endlessly scanning and tracing her fingers onto the books' spine.

It seemed like she was looking for something, she certainly looked distressed. Wednesday had been in the library for hours, though she might not look like it, she was tired. really tired. She had been there endlessly looking for some book that would atleast give her a clue on her feel- I mean, to get away with murder and a few other things she wanted to search about. She read and read, scanned and scanned, irritatingly looking at spines in the whole library just for it. She read every single book's table of contents and everything just for totally murder. 

It was hopeless, she thought. So, there she goes, waddling back to Ophelia Hall, irritated. Her roommate, Enid Sinclair was there, doing whatever the hell she was doing. The door creaks open and she goes in, Enid immediately turns her head around and tries to pleasure her with a conversation. But before such a thing happened, Wednesday slammed the door. 

Enid quite shocked from what her roommate did, she asked, "What happened to you?". Wednesday looks at her in the eye, sighs and goes, "I've been seeking for a book in the library for hours to answer a question of mine but there wasn't anything there that could quench my thirst. I wasted precious time in that place."

"Oh, is that so. You can borrow my laptop if you'd like." Enid replied. "Alright. You have to show me what to do it first." Wednesday replied.

Enid excitedly claps her hands and Enid then goes to Google and explains to her with enthusiasm, "Just click the rectangle and type in the words you want to search and then, click enter. You got that right?" Wednesday nods in return, showing Enid that she understands what she said. 

"If you don't need anything else from me, I'm going now! I've got to go and meet Ajax. Goodbye Wednesday!" Enid parts. Wednesday replies with a simple goodbye as Enid opened the door and went outside.

Wednesday sighs and types in what she wanted to ask. Let's just say the first few searches weren't that satisfactory (Can't really search up, "how to get away with murder" without seeing that book series). She searched up more questions she had stuck in her mind and finally the last ones, she was debating on whether to do such a thing. Her cheeks were heating up, turning redder and redder by any second and her breaths were getting uneven as her pulse quickened. She tried to keep a calm facade, she types in...

Enid just came back from her stroll with Ajax, she opens the door and sees Wednesday reading some book by Shelley. 

"So, does that mean you're done?" Enid asks. Wednesday only replies with a subtle nod and Enid knows that it's enough. Thinking that her laptop was powered off, she cleans it up and shuts it down.

Enid then flops onto her bed, relaxing at the comfort of her bed as a sigh of relief comes out of her. Wednesday notices then takes a little peak, her roommate really looked cute while doing that, you know. Wednesday realising what she thought tries to forget about it and goes back to reading (staring at the words) her book. She tries to calm herself. Trying to sound calm and sound monotone, Wednesday goes, "So, how was your walk with Petropolus?"

Enid snapping out of her trance and looks at Wednesday. She breaks out a smile and tells the tale of what she and Ajax did together. "He is just so cute! I just looooove how much of a good listener he is!" Enid cooes. Her cheeks pink from fluster. Wednesday was only reading her book, looking like she wasn't listening. With Enid not knowing that she scowled at that moment, feeling irritated. Wednesday didn't know why she felt like that though, but according to her searches...

"Hey- Hey, Wednesday! Are you even listening to me?" A voice says. Wednesday then snapped out of her trance, she answers, "Yes, I was listening to you." She flips a page. "It didn't seem like you were." Enid replies.

"You were talking about your walk and how cute and how much of a good listener he was." Wednesday immediately replies. An awkward silence then follows. "I'm sorry about that, I zoned out for quite some time." Wednesday apologizes. "It's fine." Enid reassures her.

It wasn't until the following day where Wednesday was doing her Wednesday things that Enid saw what she searched up. Enid felt... she certainly can't describe the feeling. She saw "Why do I want to kiss my roommate so bad" and another, "what does love feel like and how to make it stop" Enid laughed at that search. It was then followed by, "How to get away with murder" and "How to identify stab wounds" which spooked her quite a bit. Enid was having mixed feelings after seeing and reading her dearest roommate's search history. She felt astounded, dumbfounded, at one point she felt like she was laughing, or that she was surprised that her roommate felt something like that for her. Enid takes a few breaths to take in that new info.

[javierpinme]

Late Night on the Job

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x f!reader

Word count: 1k

Rating: G

Warnings: unestablished relationship, fluff, p i n i n g, sleeping on the job (?) and that honestly is probably it.

A/N: Call me impatient. 🤡 I know I just posted like literally two days ago but I was struggling with keeping this in my google docs so here LOL. I’m just terrible at waiting. Set within the Time Restraints universe, but we’re delving into unestablished waters because I’m a simp for some good ol’ fashioned pining. Minimal editing but like I said. Impatient. Don’t judge my titles because I already am. It’s not my strong suit.

Time Restraints Universe Masterlist:

Overall Masterlist:

***

Most of the overhead lights are out on your way to the break room; only illuminated by the remaining few and the exit sign leading to the stairwell in case of emergencies.

There is a machine on your floor and the coffee doesn’t taste any different than it would if you walked to the one a few feet from your desk, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t have an ulterior motive.

An ulterior motive with brown eyes that maybe if you had the courage to really look you would have found the feelings you longed to be returned match yours when they follow your figure throughout the day and hands that fidget in meetings from what you assume is an inability to keep still but really an internal battle to not connect them with yours from under the table.

A distant sigh confirms what you already assumed. Marcus is working another late night and his daughter is sitting on the carpeted floor outside of his office. This scene isn’t unfamiliar to you—rare but happens when the paperwork gets too high on his desk. You stick around off the clock to entertain his brilliant teen when those days do occur.

You think he must know what you’ve been doing. Otherwise he’d be scouring the halls in search of his missing daughter.

The closer you walk to her cross-legged figure playing whatever the newest game is on her phone, the more Marcus comes into view hunching over his desk. You don’t need to be in his presence to feel the waves of stress radiating from his body—your hands itching to relieve some of it from his neck, his shoulders, his back but-

You don’t want to overstep.

“I’m getting cold just looking at you.”

The illumination from her phone gives away her knowing smile before she looks up, like she expected you’d be here at some point. An exaggerated groan comes out when she lifts herself off the floor.

“A little.”

Goosebumps trickle up your bare arms when you slip off your cardigan and wrap it around Missy. The temperature automatically went a couple degrees colder when the work day was finished excluding those on call. She adjusts the cardigan to poke her arms through it and burrows in your leftover warmth.

“Come on. There might be some videos of Miracle Guy training somewhere around here.”

A snort bubbles up your throat at the scrunch of her nose and you nod, returning a rogue piece of her curly hair back behind her ear. 

“You’re right. He doesn’t need that ego boost. I could use some help with organizing if you’re up for it.”

***

The borrowed office chair squeaks from Missy swiveling it back and forth. You redirect her attention to the file system in one of your drawers for her to color code, listening out for the inevitable giggling from her when she comes across some of the entertaining but harmless field accidents.

You pull out another drawer and crinkling breaks the teen’s attention from her task. “Is that a snack drawer?”

“Yes! You have to munch on something when you’re sitting in front of a computer all day.” You pull out the packaging and place it on your desk for the two of you to share while working.

“Oreo?”

Silence takes over other than the occasional crunch of the cookies and you lean your cheek on your hand hoping the sugar will keep you awake until you can crash in the comfort of your bed.

The elevator dings and the sound of someone walking to your desk is shielded from the fabric of the carpet. Tentative fingers graze your forehead traveling to your cheek in your dreams—chasing the mysterious warmth you squish your cheek against it, nuzzling and locking your hands around whatever it is to keep it there.

The breathy chuckle from above doesn’t stir you and neither does that same squeak from someone sitting down on the seat next to you, or the thumb stroking your cheekbone even with the limited movement.

A shiver runs through your spine when you feel hair from a moustache tickling your ear and it’s only when you feel the breath of a whisper that you start to tiptoe in wakefulness. “Sweetheart, wake up.”

“Mmmmm, Marcus.” Your eyes are still closed, your subconscious carrying over from your pleasant dream.

“It’s me. You fell asleep at your desk.”

A figure forms when your eyes flutter open to meet Marcus’s with a look you’re too tired to comprehend at the moment. The corner of his mouth ticks up at your stare, widening when your smile begins to match his. His free hand strokes your hairline and you let out a satisfied hum at his attention-

You lift your head abruptly when you realize you’re ogling and practically hugging his forearm, wiping it to make sure you didn’t accidentally drool on him, adding to even more possible embarrassment.

Shit.

So much for being subtle.

“I’m done. You ready to go?”

You know you look like a fish out of water when you turn around expecting-

“Her abuela took her home.” If you weren't so exhausted you would have had the energy to be self-conscious about Marcus’s mother witnessing you passed out at work.

Marcus’s hand slips into yours to help you get up and grabs your purse with his free hand to lay over his shoulder when you try to reach for it. He doesn’t let go of your hand and he’s never been more thankful that you can’t hear his heart beating a mile a minute at the vulnerable step.

Something he’s been wanting to do for a while.

He walks over to his car in the garage and opens the passenger side door for you to step into.

"Marcus, we didn't carpool this time." Despite your best effort to make a point it came out as half-hearted.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow. Come on, let's get you home."

He wishes it wasn’t needed to carpool back and forth.

He wishes it was the same one.

Taglist: @lowlights @radiowallet @honestly-shite @mylovelycomandante @sharkbait77 @littlepadika @kmorales1 @kirsteng42 @dobbyjen

Tags that didn’t work: @imaginefishies @frankiemoralesxo

[writermuses]

There wasn't much that Nathaniel could be grateful for about from his kidnapping two decades ago. That horrific event had changed his life completely, from his mental health to his security team, but it had also mad him acutely aware of bad weather and if he was pushing himself too far. Running had been an escape for him and his service dog needed that as well, but what had seemed like a good idea quickly changed into the reality that bad weather was coming. Nate had slowed to a walk by the time he saw the woman distraught on the side of the road. Swallowing up his nerves, he continued his approach with Cosmo at his side. The service dog gave a small whine, wanting to comfort her, but Nate only reached down and ran his fingers through the dog's coat, getting out his own anxiety. "We were stopping to see if we could help you. A ride, maybe, or if you wanted to borrow my phone and call someone. This is Cosmo, I'm Nate." He spared her the full name, as one quick google search and he would be identifiable. Hopefully, she seemed to young to be reading gossip magazines and wouldn't know him as the 'billionaire bachelor' they described.

mildred asher || 25 years old || pansexual

open to: f/m/nb

plot: mildred and her boyfriend got into a fight and he abandoned her on the side of the road. yours is here to the rescue - they can either know her or not. any connection is welcome!

made using beta but can use legacy if needed! 

"asshole!" mildred shouted at the car sped off. she and her boyfriend had never had be most healthy relationship. they were a mess. they spent more time arguing than actually enjoying being in one anothers company... and yet she hadn't expected him to kick her out of the car when she had no real way of even getting home. especially since her phone had died that afternoon. she sighed as she sat down, trying to figure out what to do with herself. "who are you looking at?" she huffed, as someone appeared in front of her. "can i help you?"

[fanficbambiandy]

hi, I’ve never made a request before so I’m sorry if I’m bothering but, I have trichotillomania which is a hair pulling disorder. Recently i thought I’d been getting better but it flared back up again and I now have literally no eyelashes left. I was just wondering if u have any viktor x reader headcannons for someone with a hair pulling disorder, it’s okay if not but idk, u know? Haha

Hi:) Sorry I didn't get to this sooner, I only sat down to properly work now and since this is a headcannon, thought I would whip it up quickly. I have never had an encounter with this condition and all my information is coming from a 15 minute google search. Hope you are doing better, sending lots of hugs and kisses, you are beautiful no matter what<3

☆。*。☆。

✶ When Viktor first learns about your condition, he will throw himself into learning as much as possible about it. His room, lab, the occasional lunch table would be filled with books borrowed from the library about trichotillomania, notes full of his messy cursive about it.

✶ He will discuss with you what might trigger your anxiety, some warning signs for it, how you two can lessen daily stress... When Vik would do that, his eyes would shine with genuine care and compassion, not once showing pity over you. He, out of all people knew, there is nothing to pity in such a beautiful, kind, intelligent person.

✶He will encourage you to seek professional help, either going to support groups or to therapy. At any point, first time or fifth time, if you would be nervous, Viktor would go with you, on the way saying words in his mother-tongue, getting you to guess what it means. It was a great game to distract you.

✶ If you two were home, and Viktor would notice your anxiety growing, he would drag you to your couch, hold your hands, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, pressing cool kisses to your fingertips, whispering 'beautiful', 'gorgeous', 'magnificent', sometimes mumbling sweet words of affirmation in his native language.

✶He would scoot you between his legs, spouting off different facts about whatever topic came up. “Did you know that clouds can weigh up to a million pounds? And-and they are white because the larger water droplets scatter the light equally all around." Viktor would stumble over his words, thoughts appearing faster than his tongue could roll. All you could do was look at him amazed. The way his amber eyes would widen and fire up about such normal occurrences that no one else would think twice about.

✶In public he would be a bit more reserved, but Vik would always check in – squeeze your hand, nudge you, whisper in your ear. It wouldn’t be overbearing, Viktor always made sure to give you enough space. In a way he would use his own experience in helping you, or more precisely, just being there for you, that’s the biggest help he could offer.

✶When your illness flares up, he would never judge – to him it’s like a sound wave, it goes up and down to be able to move forward. Viktor knows that there are better and worse days, his own health has shown that to him, so he just makes sure to be there for you.

✶ Would make sure you know that nothing changes on how he sees you – you are still his little бабочка (‘babochka’ butterfly in Russian), or his любий(dear, darling in Ukranian).

✶Viktor would try and make a home spa for you. Now the key word is try. This man knows shampoo, soap and toothpaste at best. At worst it’s four in one body wash and toothpaste. But Vik gives it his best shot: he gets a bunch of face masks for the two of you:

✶ “Normal, dry, oil, combo skin… What about just skin? They have just skin right?”

✶ Viktor would come back home with a bag full of face masks, skin care products, roses, candles, body washes and oils, some of the stuff he could barely pronounce. But with the shop-keeper’s help and the ingredient list on the back, he was sure every unpronounceable thing in that basket was safe.

✶You would come back to the flat smelling of roses and lavender oils, rose petals scattered over the floor leading to the bathroom, warm light emerging from under the door. Opening the door you would see Viktor there, looking a bit like a deer in headlights. Vik was so preoccupied with the bathroom space, that he didn’t hear you enter.

✶You two would get into the bath, he would massage some of the oil on your exposed skin, his cool hands a nice contrast to the warm water. With a bit of convincing, Viktor would comply, and let you put on the clay mask on his face. He didn’t like the smell of it… it smelled like clay should, but Vik just didn’t like it. However, your fingers gently running over his face, working in the clay was pleasing.

✶ At the end of the day, Viktor would love you no matter what, he wouldn’t see you as anything less than beautiful. You were there to make sure he slept properly and ate a full meal. The one who would make sure to rest on walks, knowing Viktor is too stubborn to admit he needs to sit down. You cared for him, and he would do the same in return.

[cyncerity]

I posted 482 times in 2022

360 posts created (75%)

122 posts reblogged (25%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cyncerity

@baka-monarch

@pixiethesizeshifter

@dingbatnix

@oh-i-need-a-name

I tagged 456 of my posts in 2022

Only 5% of my posts had no tags

#cyncerity - 345 posts

#mcyt gt - 278 posts

#mcyt g/t - 274 posts

#dad’s troubles au - 92 posts

#not g/t - 67 posts

#tw vore - 57 posts

#cyn art - 51 posts

#cynshitpost - 43 posts

#g/t - 29 posts

#store shifter au - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#don’t forget how much you and this community mean to him even now cause i’m damn sure wherever he is he’s watching all this go down hskslsh

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

this took three days but i’m actually really happy with it? that never happens??

anyway, feel free to send asks for this au, i think by now we know that i’m thinking about it too much, but i hope you like these!

also click for better quality

See the full post

131 notes - Posted June 25, 2022

#4

Steddie stranger things borrower au is all I need and want in my depressing life

just for you 💖

The nickname “big boy” just became twice as flirty jokingly mocking

133 notes - Posted August 6, 2022

#3

this isn’t my usual content but i could not rest until i drew this

this is kinda a “secret world of arriety” type au (if you’ve ever read “the borrower” or “the littles” book series, think of those) but with stranger things!

idk how much i’ll do with the idea cause stranger things isn’t my main hyperfixation, but i’m in love with this idea

See the full post

156 notes - Posted August 4, 2022

#2

This was based off of an instagram meme that i think was made for women over the age of 50, but when vore inspiration strikes, you have to do something.

So, here’s this!! I may make this a series, I may not, but it may depend on if y’all even like this story or not lol

so without further ado, here’s some crimeboys noms >:)

tw: kinda implied mentions of neglect/abuse, swearing, and vore

He had to get away. Tommy couldn’t stay another day in this damn house, he felt like he was suffocating. He had to leave, somehow.

All of his things were already packed. The little he had was stored in various bags he had stolen from the attic when the thought of running away had first occurred to him. When he had first realized that he couldn’t stay in this shithole any longer.

Now to think of where. That had been his main concern. Hotels were too expensive, and god knows he didn’t have any friends who would let him stay with them.

Which left him with one option, though he was dreading it.

A few months ago, a new app had been created. A way to book “unique” temporary living arrangements with giants. It was part of some weird initiative to get humans and giants to get along better, and had fully stapled itself to the claims that some humans who lived with giants made about how being eaten could be “relaxing.”

That’s right, as awful an idea as this seemed to Tommy and almost everyone else, there was now a way to book what could qualify as the worlds weirdest airbnb within giants. Literally. Apparently some giants were completely ok with random humans using their organs as a weekend get away, because there were plenty on the app for Tommy to scroll through. And scroll he did.

He had realized a while ago that this may be the cheapest option, and had gone through the website for hours until he had found someone. Early 20s, no criminal record that he could find with a limited google search, good reviews that he could tell were mostly from humans friends that he had, but the man seemed nice enough. He ignored the paranoia that told him that this man was only cheap because he would lure Tommy to his death. That the moment he and Tommy met, it would be over, and he’d be just another missing and forgotten person. Another victim to a random giant where there’d be no proof of his death and nothing to-

No, he couldn’t afford to think like that. This had to work. And, besides, was it really worth still living if he had to be at this house any longer? As much as he hated himself for thinking it, he’d rather let this stranger be the death of him than spend another second with his abusive shit family.

Tommy had messaged him once or twice and had paid him once already just to settle the deal. He ignored the feeling of dread in his gut every time he even thought about the giant, but he couldn’t help but be nervous. After all, this man would be holding his life in him until he got his shit together enough to at least get a job. He didn’t know how long that would be, but he needed to be practically untraceable. He couldn’t risk his family finding him. He couldn’t risk being taken back home.

He sent one final text to the man about where to meet. He knew it was late, but he had warned him in advance that he was probably gonna get a text in the middle of the night, so he slowly crept out of his window and, seeing that the coast was clear, ran, not looking back.

He would never look back.

…

Tommy had arrived at the meetup spot and had been waiting for 30 minutes and, still, no sign of the giant. Ok, now that he thought about it, maybe this did seem a little suspicious. Supposing the giant was a normal ass man, getting a text saying “meet me in an abandoned Tesco parking lot” was a weird thing to receive at 2:45 in the morning. But, again, Tommy was shooting to be untraceable. He couldn’t risk anyone seeing him or his giant. Could he call this stranger “his giant?” Whatever. Tommy knew his family. He didn’t want other people to get hurt, but he couldn’t do this alone. Even if it was a stranger, he needed help.

Tommy just sat and kept thinking, thoughts spiraling into what he would do if the giant never showed up, if he actually had to do this by himself, when the ground began to shake. Tommy quickly stood up and had to strain his neck looking up to see the giant approach. And, holy shit, this fucker was tall.

Tommy had never met a giant before. Hell, almost no humans had. But from what he knew, they shouldn’t be this tall. He felt his knees begin to shake and his palms sweat as he took in the full size and image of the monster that he had hired to eat him. He had fluffy brown hair, wire rimmed glasses and a yellow sweater with a brown puffer jacket on and, weirdly enough, had a mask covering his mouth. He seemed to be hunched over, looking around for what Tommy could only assume to be him, pulling his red-brown beanie further over his head almost nervously. His eyes frantically scanned the empty lot until he found him, where he quickly made his way over as Tommy stumbled back, falling onto the ground and shaking violently from the cold and fear.

“There you are!!” the giant said, “Tommy, right? I’ve been looking all over for you! What were you thinking making this the meetup spot?!”

Tommy could barely speak. It felt like his head had been stuck in a freezer, his throat frozen and his mind muddled and cloudy, unable to form a response. “I-I..it….i- it was c- close…” he whimpered, stumbling back farther. The giant only then seemed to notice Tommy’s fear as he sighed and knelt down, trying to be more eye level as he spoke quieter. “It’s ok, kid. Fuck, you’re younger than I thought you’d be. You mean it’s close to your house, right?” Tommy nodded hesitantly and Wilbur continued. “Thought so. You probably didn’t want to haul your stuff all the way to the giant side. It’s just…i’m not technically allowed to be here.” Tommy looked up at him, confused, his breath slowing and his panic was subsiding now that the giant wasn’t towering over him and scanning the grounds for him like a fucking predator hunting it’s prey. The giant must’ve noticed his confusion, as he continued. “This isn’t a mutual territory. If i get caught here, i could get in a lot of trouble. I tried texting and calling you to tell you, given that humans don’t know a lot about the laws giants have to follow, but you weren’t responding, so i figured i’d just come and make this quick before the cops notice me.” He said. Ah, so that’s what the surgical mask was for. So the cops couldn’t recognize him. He held out a finger to Tommy, and he tried not to think about how this singular finger was taller than his whole body. “I’m Wilbur, by the way, i don’t think i ever introduced myself.” Tommy shuffled closer and grabbed the tip of the finger in an awkward attempt at a handshake. “I-I’m Tommy.”

“As nice as it is to meet you, you seem really nervous. First time?” Tommy nodded again, miraculously feeling less nervous by the second. Something about this guy, maybe his calming voice or how much more human he was than Tommy assumed he’d be, made Tommy trust him.

Or maybe it was the fact that this was the first time in a long time he had been treated with kindness. His family was barely decent to him, so this was a nice change, if an unexpected one.

“First time meeting a giant, actually.” “No offense, I can kind of tell.” Wilbur said, though there was no judgement in his voice. “Y’know, you don’t have to do this now. We could always resched-“ “No!!” Tommy shouted, interrupting the giant. “No, no, I want to, I have to, I’m out of options, please.” At that, Wilbur began to look concerned. “Tommy what do you mean ‘out of options?’ Are you ok? Do you need help?” “This is my help! Sure, maybe I’m a little bit fucking terrified, but i have nowhere else to go. I- I can’t go back, please, please, Wilby.” Tommy finished, the nickname naturally rolling off his tongue like he had known the giant his whole life. Wilbur looked at him with a vague look of concern and pity before bringing one of his giant fingers closer to Tommy’s face. Tommy didn’t even have time to react before it gently swiped across his cheek, wiping away tears he didn’t even know he had shed. “Ok, ok, i’ll help, it’s alright.” He said, giving Tommy a warm smile (he assumed; his eyes scrunched up a little near the outer edges, which seemed like a good sign he was smiling) that only slightly hid the concern still plastered on his face. And though Tommy still couldn’t see most of the aforementioned face, his eyes portrayed everything Tommy needed. Wilbur wore his heart on his sleeve; he liked that.

Tommy could have sobbed in relief as Wilbur’s words fully sunk in. He was going to get away, and the thought of finally being free was enough to drown out any more fears of what was about to happen. Wilbur then reached behind him and grabbed some of his bags, which looked ridiculously minuscule in his hand, as he brought them up to his mouth before pausing. “Do you want to go down first or do you want me to do to do these? For some people, it can be a bit nerve racking to see me swallow something first.” Tommy thought about it, then shook his head. It’s not like he wanted to see his few meager possessions disappear down the throat of a giant, especially knowing he’d have to join them, but he wasn’t gonna chicken out now. He just needed a few seconds to collect himself, and what Wilbur did with his bags in that time was none of his business.

Wilbur calmly lifted the bags back up, all of them at the same time, and slipped them under his mask. Within a few seconds, Tommy saw a vague outline slip down Wilbur’s throat, bobbing his addam’s apple a bit as they descended to where Tommy would be staying for a short while…maybe he should have gone first.

It all reminded him of a nature documentary he had seen on snakes once; he could see the outline of some poor rodent slowly trail down the snake to its final resting place.

Tommy tried not to think about that last part. After all, he’d be fine. He wasn’t prey, not to Wilbur, anyway. To his family…maybe. Not like they mattered anymore, though.

Tommy felt giddy enough at that thought that he stepped forward towards Wilbur as he watched the man press against his midsection gently, presumably to make sure Tommy’s bags had ended up in the right organ. After that confirmation, Wilbur looked back down, setting his hand palm up next to Tommy. “You ready for this, big man?” Tommy grinned at the nickname, at the way Wilbur treated him. Like a person; an equal. He grinned so hard it almost hurt. “Ready as i’ll ever be.”

Tommy felt himself be lifted and watched as Wilbur used his free hand to lift his mask just enough for Tommy to fit under and into his mouth. Tommy quickly found a perch on his lip and tried to climb in the rest of the way himself before realizing holy shit oh prime good fucking god his teeth were sharp. Wilbur made muffled cry of concern as his hand came back up under Tommy as he stumbled a bit. But, after the initial shock of the teeth being way sharper than he thought, Tommy managed to climb in the rest of the way successfully.

See the full post

182 notes - Posted August 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

the last post did so much better than expected! i’m genuinely really surprised, thanks for all the support on my short little shitty comic hsjsksl

Anyway, here’s pt. 2!!

See the full post

188 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[parodyroyalle]

Hello, I read your post on Skippy's blog. You mention a person named Angelina Bentivegna, who is an actress today and her biography can be seen on IMDB. According to IMDB she did indeed go missing as a toddler and was adopted by the Thompson family. How is this connected to the Harkles? Thank you.

Hi Mary thank you for your question.

Thank you Skippy for the reblog.

This question is related to the reblog timelines.

And from the archives since deleted after the hacks.

I was able to find some gems from other archived bloggers.

This may be hard to follow in pieces. I will do my best to outline.

Any other questions, I will try to find the source for you,

This may be confusing as 'Angelina' intercepts two ways.

Closest Timeline:

2013-2014-2015-2016 Emmanuel Jal and Rachel Meghan Markle

2013-2014-2015-2016 Emmanuel Jal and Angelina Bentivegna

Older Timeline:

2008 Alyssa Pallett and Nina Schick

Connection = UK, SOHO and much more allegedly

Who is in the background? Angelina

Oldest Timeline:

2007 Alyssa Pallett TORONTO NYC MIAMI UK

Jeffery Epstein, Black Book connections, to Pallett with Brant.

Google open source connects JE black book to Brant

Google open source connects Brant to Pallet.

Who was in the background? Angelina

How do these timelines intercept?

Drop in the tid bit from Julie re Anon and add Angelina's social media helped put the puzzle together.

Starting at the most resent:

2016

Angelina social media with Emmanuel Jal

It was open source, it is now private.

Some archives can be found on IMDB and Google.

( comes up in search bar Facebook search )

www.facebook.com/ emmanuel.jal.9/videos/10154089969291006

Insta now closed shows them in the record studio promoting

Be Inspired, a kindness and peace campaign

Created by Angelina as a teen.

Inspired by The Bible.

( Facebook archives and IMDB )

2015

Most recent connection that was reported of Markle public with Jal would be Soho UK yet much has been scrubbed and notice no one really discusses the obvious points like the whole network that comes with Emmanuel. See below.

According to a quick Google search:

Meghan Markle & Emmanuel Jal - Kruger Cowne Breakfast Club

Posted on Mar 13, 2015 ---- time stamped upload

The video is taken at Soho in UK

What is interesting is an Anon mentioned something about money being borrowed to front the cost of joining this PR campaign from the ex Toronto Chef CV. Was it to join or to pay off?

What is interesting here is Markle and Jal were already spotted in World Vision's Artist Partnership. This was removed from World Vision. Interesting that this was from 2013-2014-2015 time line. Google search reveals World Vision has changed it's marketing and now lists Markle as 2016 but small print reveals the date 2013. I guestimate the shorter end of the timeline 2013-2014-2015.

What is also interesting is the connection of Clooney's and Witherspoon and Mandela etc. All that are contacts of Emmanuel Jal in one networking source. Take a look into the records and see how many dots pop up. I am surprised this is not pointed out more. I am also not surprised because of seemingly try to cover connections.

More time line connects to this article here:

The years to watch here are 2013-2014- 2015,

Spectators know what took place in 2016 and 2017 with Harkles.

The Wedding.

Now, on the IMDB you will see Suits mentioned.

There is also two photos. Emmanuel Jal and Angelina.

In the photographs there is one from 2008 from SOHO UK.

There is also a video of the event on Youtube from that time.

Allegedly she dropped acting after being warned about trafficking.

Here is where it gets interesting interesting.

Notice the blogspot.com post writes Markle inspired Emmanuel?

They were spotted on World Vision under the Artist Program.

This page has since been scrubbed but other archives may be found.

Emmanuel Jal was introduced to Angelina to collaborate. Facebook.

They did in fact collaborate during the same timeline as Markle.

Markle is then one stone away from Bentivegna on that connection.

The Be Inspired Campaign since 2006 or earlier according to Google.

When this was open source, there were videos of them together.

By them, I am not referring to Markle but Jal and Bentivegna.

A deep dive into social media archives indicates:

Angelina's social media shows she is a monarchist, military supporter and has corresponded with the Queen. Affiliated with St. John Ambulance. It shows she documented a history of being a missing 'missing' person who has been an activist over the years and aided in fundraising for many campaigns including Save The Children and Harry's Patronage The ROM in Toronto, which is a museum. This means Angelina and Harry are also a stone hop connection away.

Mary, you are correct as it is reported she is an adoptee which again circles to Emmanuel being adopted and has a sister named Angelina according to his book. A deeper dive shows activism for Indigenous, Adoptee Birth Rights. I was able to find several open case works including a Change.Org petition and many posts calling for change.

I did find it interesting that Major Thompson was featured and there is a photo of Her Majesty with a Tommy which makes for good storytelling as I did not find any connection they are related. This of course may or may not be relevant. I for one like to take all the dots and stick them up on the board and deduce accordingly. Synchronicities like this make research fun. Take with a grain of salt.

I did notice an open source post on Twitter that listed her Grandfather helped fight during the war in Holland and Ricky Gervais liked it. There is no mention of acting to date but there is mention of working on releasing something pertaining to gonzo journalism. IMDB showed something was in the works but LinkedIn shows stopped after work destroyed in a Fire. This can be fact checked.

Danja Zone had mentioned this connection years ago in a video very briefly. Many people came out of the wood works back then. I think Danja Zone and Skippy were communicating with Samantha Markle during those days also. Skippy has had many blogs. This blog was also lost and so much of the archives are gone but data lives on. Danja Zone also had a fire. Interesting to note. Same time period. After there were reports of Scoobie saying he too had to call police over fire threats.

Danja Zone Fire:

Former Markle Aid: Reported

Thompson Family Fire: Reported

Page 2

Scoobie Fire: Reported

Real threat or mock victims and mislead Police ?

I am always skeptical due to this Police report that sparked PH announcement of need for safety. Skippy's blog had great posts from that time. I think they were on the old blog that is no longer. Below is a quick link to a report. I do not get paid to post links. I only research:

Good news, all were reported to Police.

There are some very interesting photos and videos that exist. Especially with time likes with Boston Baseball and The Bench and Pearl. My gawd is it like a black mirror episode.

I have been trying to learn how to rip them and post to Tumblr. I am not alone. I have help and they are going to help put something visual together matching time lines. I will post more links at that time.

www.facebook.com/TheBeInspiredCampaign

From where I stand, I believe Angelina was the lure but the backers did not anticipate her finding her family and returning home. I also doubt the backers knew her Thompson connection as it was only recently added to the public domine. Her story alone is an unbelievable true story from what I have read into. Markles reported story about the passport being held and 'family' she never had and 'kindness' campaign is a rip off persona of this person JMO. Markle is also almost a decade older and Lauren Foster report only surfaced way after Angelina reported and found family.

Timeline narrows the maths to 2008-2009.

Why is 2009 important?

Before VG's first case

www.insider.com/virginia-roberts-sexual-assault-claims-prince-andrew-timeline-2021-8

and way before Markle and Foster's reports which were most likely put there as a decoy to layer on misleading info from the truth. I believe this because again, they did not match the report timeline.

Zooming out of the equation and parachuting in, AB reported PA and PH in 2008 yet then the public reads PA action taking place in 2015 with VG right before RMM in 2016. This means the BRF were being sucker punched with BLM, PA , PH , Brexit, Megxit PP all lined up on like dominos or lame donkey kick. So the question is who paid for the PR post about Foster? One could argue multiple people must have been approached. If that were true, Bentivegna would not have reported in 2008 and again after once spotted Fosters report and taken to social media with an open post now made private.

New reports were made and we received the Anon tip through Skippy's blog and mentioned by Julie a few days ago. Sandie and Political Anon are great resources for the Politics and connections to people like Sorros. The only political contribution that I can confirm through Google is Nina Schick connected to Soho and recent UK politic link. I was also able to confirm Alyssa Pallet through LinkedIn doing some woke project about 'Government of Scotland'. Again, open source. The reblogs about this are on this blog or maybe Sandies, Anons?

Now we know how Clooney's fit re: Jal connection.

The maths would then lead me to believe the timeline reblogged about Tom Bowers book is correct. He is a great investigator. He pin pointed Canada being the place and the time before Harry. Video of the interview linked below.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=5dC4eQJsGJY

This would be the same time line of Emmanuel, Markle, Angelina.

Markle would have dumped Trevor after meeting Emmanuel judging by the dates worked as a 'Artist Ambassador' from the scrubbed World Vision Page which rebrands them, again, secretly, under new time lines. ( I am at my limit for posting links ).

This would be Soho Toronto Markus time and the whole meeting of the Canadian crew which set the stage for Cory and Bobs your uncle. Spectating based on timelines here as nothing is coincidence. I can do a deep dive at another time if you like.

A recap of timeline since Trevor as 'reported'.

://www.express.co.uk/news/royal/1228391/meghan-markle-news-prince-harry-trevor-engelson-divorce-split-spt

This Wedding was the one where Markle wore Kate replica's.

I could be mistaken. That photo was rebloged on Skippy's.

( I try to give credit where and when possible )

Here is a similar comparison:

www.cosmopolitan.com/style-beauty/fashion/a19695804/meghan-markle-wedding-dress-differences

I have always been on the fence about Trevor for nit pick reasons such as 2011-2013 timeline? Connected Markle and 'leveled up'. The mail back of the ring was very dramatic and I spectated that it revealed a try to look independent and a woman in charge but to me, Trevor was giving signals from the side lines. Such as 'Ford' ( baby name reported to be a favorite in their relationship) and the cartier. Can not pot my finger on it. Something is just off. I hope I am wrong. as many men have been associated with Markle over the years. Again, Skippy's blog had the best Anon contributes and most of the reblogs are no longer on this blog. Below is the best quick grab

FYI lot's of my research comes from Reddit gems and deep dives:

Then we have the aftermath that moves very quicky.

Remember, in this, this narrative of Mr. Markle was being had.

Again the dates: 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016

Angelina was reportedly working as a fundraising campaign manager in Toronto, Miss Universe Delegate and spotted on social media with Emmanuel Jal, MeToo activist ( alleged abused by a well known celebrity and reported sex trafficking recruiting on a Hollywood movie production). Allegedly reported witnessed entrapment of two Royals, the domestic abuse of a celebrity's now ex wife. Can bee seen background acting on Suits, Handmaids Tale? The next James Bond? Spectating, JMO.

Source, IMDB, LinkedIn, Open source, Google Search.

I could keep going but this is enough to chew on.

Write me questions, we will fact check.

Thousands of hours went into this.

Take away, make of it what you will.

These are reblogs, speculations and opinions.

I don't believe in coincidence.

I do believe in critical thinking.

Pulling the threads of time together.

Disclaimer:

Sugars, if you are reading, Angelina is reportedly married IMDB.

No one is trying to snag Harry or whatever.

These are just dots linked to timelines to some known reports.

Long Short:

Thank you for reading!

A.P Thompson also known as Angelina Bentivegna

A former missing 'missing' person info Twitter, IMDB, Facebook

They identify as a gonzo journalist and have a performer history.

No knowledge of relation to H.S Thompson also gonzo journalist.

Wait. Didn't Johnny Depp play H.S Thompson? Woah.

According to LinkedIn has aided Intelligence Communities in past.

Connection to Markle via Emmanuel Jal

Connection to Prince Harry via loyalty to Royal Family, ROM

Was approached about the Sussex title and PH in 2008.

IMDB proves Soho UK and article is from 2008 giving timeline.

[tobitofunction]

Golden One

Yelena Belova x Female!reader

She’s so cute, I just can’t. I want to hug her.

sorry for any wrong translation for the Russian, used google for them

Black Widow spoilers

You grabbed your bags stuffed with groceries and walked towards your small campaign trailer. Your hand reaches for the handle when you noticed drops of blood on the ground. You looked at your surroundings looking for any sign of car or motorcycle. You carefully opened the door leaving the bags of food and drinks outside, pulling out a small gun from under the trailer and slowly you began searching the trailer. Everything seemed clear until you get to the bathroom where two female voices can be heard,” Who those it belong to?” an American voice said,” My gir…. My friend whose a girl” that voice, that sweet voice which talked you to sleep so many times,” Yelena!” you said ripping the door open seeing the face of the blonde girl who stole your heart, her golden hair pulled into a ponytail showing of her gorgeous face and eyes,” Y/N” she said getting up from the tub and walking towards you. She wraps her arms around you, face buried into your neck,” I missed you” she said in whisper, placing a kiss on your neck.” How did you?” you said, tears blurring your vision,” Oksana, she had red dust it freed me and brought me back to you… well Natasha brought me back to you technically. I remember you telling me about wanting to live in the mountains of Hungary” Yelena said pointing to the red head behind her,” Natasha? The Avenger?” you asked looking at the women,” Well formally, on the run at the moment” she said,” Join the club” you said looking at Yelena, your eyes wander down her body but your gaze stopped at her arm. Your eyes widen,” Yelena, your arm what happened?” you asked grabbing her hand and guiding her to your room, you grabbed the first aid kit first from Natasha and started to treat her wounds,” Taskmaster, Dreykov is after us because of the red dust, he had us chased through Budapest” Yelena said looking at you with a sweet smile,” it’s not bad, no need for stitches” you said,” you could just kiss it better” she smiled cutely making your heart melt. You quickly kissed her cut and than wrapped it up,” Emm sorry to interrupt but who are you?” Natasha asked,” I’m Y/N L/N I was part of the red room with Yelena, I escaped but it pained me to leave Yelena, my солнышко ( little sun) behind. I just could handle it anymore. All the blood, all the pain and nightmares” you sighed,” Anyone want a drink? Yelena, зайка (golden one) tell us more about Taskmaster and the new red room” Yelena nodded and kissed your check as you walked to the door to get the bags.

“Taskmaster has the ability to copy anyone without even meeting them. He pulled a Captain American on us” she said taking a sip of her beer,” Since when does the red room have mind control?” Natasha asked, making you nod,” Couple of years” she began explaining, her hands began to tremble, I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze,” Your out now, you do your own decisions now” you said caressing her cheek. She smiled,” That’s why am here now, also I bought this vest, it has lots of pockets” she said pulling at her vest,” First thing I bought, cool right? Made some adjustments but look at the pockets. I can put chocolate here, small bottles of vodka here” she began naming things and pointing at her pockets. You and Natasha looked at each other with a smile at her excitement.” любимая (beloved)?” Yelena said gently poking you,” How do you find it?” she said looking at you with big eyes,” Perfect” you said but not talking about the vest,” I know it, it’s so cool but it’s mine. I might let you borrow it or or we can matching ones” she said making you sigh and smile,” anything you want”.

Yelena, Natasha and you where at the moment making your way on a rusty helicopter to Siberia to free Alexei Shostakov aka Red Guardian.” Are we sure that he knows of the red room location? It’s a big risk” you said siting behind Natasha,” He was bff with Dreykov” Natasha said looking over her shoulder. You hummed and looked back at Yelena, she was wearing a somewhat baggy white full body suit with her vest, while you and Natasha wore skin tight white suits.” You look amazing любимая (beloved)” Yelena said with a smile,” I can say the same about you солнышко (little sun)” you said as Natasha faked gaged and rolled her eyes,” Let’s keep eyes and thoughts on the mission, shall we?”

The rescue went south making Natasha and you jump into action while Yelena stayed. “ There are too many” you said slamming two guards heads together,” Alexei move it now” Natasha yelled but a big bang made you look up Yelena blew up the watch tower.” Yelena!?” You yelled in disbelief, the explosion could have caused an avalanche,” What it was cool wasn’t it”. You were about to say something when a loud booming noise cut you off,” An Avalanche” you yelled and began ruining, you jumped off the bridge and grabbed the robe attached to the sad excuse of an helicopter,” That’s why I was angry” you said as Yelena pulled you in,” At least it’s a cool way to die” she said.

Both Natasha and Alexei made it on board safely as well. You looked the man up and down with a raised brow,” What you looking at?” he said,” You the Red Guardian?” he nodded excited,” You a fan?”,” I expect you to be fitter and not you know” poking his belly,” It’s just water weight” he said slapping your hand away. “Who are you anyway?”,” My girlfriend” Yelena said popping the headset on. Alexei smiled,” Yelena my dear, you two look beautiful” he said but neither of them answered making you chuckle, you sat back on your seat and put the headset on.” Ooh they can’t hear” Alexei said moving onto your seat squishing you onto the wall pulling of your headset,” How are you-“ but before he could finish Yelena punched him in the face,” Why the aggression? Are you on your period?” he asked rubbing his nose,” You really asking that?” Yelena said with a scoff,” also I don’t get my period, I don’t have uterus” Yelena began explaining probably to much for Alexei as he quickly cut her off,” Now get off my chair” you said pushing the older man off the chair,” You smell like a dumpster” you said making him huff,” Do you know where the red room is?” Natasha asked. He scoffed,” Why should I? That asshole but me in prison. I know nothing” he shrugged making the three of you sigh,” He promised me that I can be Red Guardian again but all I got is prison time for last 20 years” he said kicking the door which lead to a talk of his glory days.” Can we throw him out already?” Yelena asked,” wait until we get to a higher altitude” she said.” But Melanie would know” you saw both Yelena and Natasha tense,” Mother Melanie?” Yelena asked,” I though she was dead” Natasha said,” No she tough a bullet to the shoulder won’t kill her, she’s still working for the red room, she stationed near Saint Petersburg”. You looked at Yelena and saw her deep in thought, you put a hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek,” Can this flying trash can even make it to Saint Petersburg?” you asked,” Ohh it will ” Alexei said.

With the helicopter crashing nowhere near Saint Petersburg, you and the rest didn’t have another choice than walk. Alexei began talking about himself again making the three of you ignore him. Yelena grabbed your hand and speeding up her pace so she couldn’t here what Alexei was saying.

Soon the sound and smell of pigs began hitting. A brunette woman armed with an machine gun made you tense,” Y/N, this is my mother… Melanie” Yelena said,” You work for the red room? Good mother you have” you said.

Disgusting flirting between Alexei and Melanie, talk about the mind control of the widows which made Yelena hold back tears and you ready to fight all lead to you and Yelena being in a room alone. Yelena was nursing a bottle of Vodka while her head was on your shoulder,” it was all real to me, Alexei as my father, Melanie as my mother and Natasha as my sister, those three years still and always be a fond memory, a safe memory. Now it’s all crumbling, I found out I was just a waste, a drag of three years” tears began to build up remembering Alexei’s harsh words followed by Natasha equally harsh words of not being a real family, of just being a mission, a job which needed to be done. You wiped her tears away and kissed the tip of her nose,” You matter to me, I always regret the day of leaving you behind. I love you солнышко (little sun) forever and always” Yelena smiled and cuddled further into your body kissing your collarbone when the door swung open. Alexei came in and began talking about fishing trip with his father making the two of you sigh and take sip of vodka each.

You watched chunks fly down from the sky, the red room finally destroyed, the widows are free and Dreykov finally dead. Natasha gave Yelena and you the job of freeing the remaining widows. Melanie and Alexei joined you, Melanie helped with the reproduction of the red dust and Alexei was there for entertainment mostly but also for his extra strength. Yelena had small moments of contact with Natasha, she and Steve according to the News helped to break out her Avenger friends who went against the Sokovian accords. Making her even more an enemy of the state.

Yelena and you got a dog which you named Fanny and moved to Ohio. Yelena somehow managed to buy her old house,” Any memories you like to share?” you asked her as she wrapped her arms around your waist, Fanny running around the yard.” “Natasha and I used the play on those swings daily, in summer fireflies would appear” she said kissing your neck.” It’s weird being here again after 21 years” she added looking around the empty house,” we fill up with our own memories again” you said making her smile,” Can’t wait” she kissed your lips. “Melanie gave me this, it has some pictures of you and Natasha” you said pulling a colourful binder from your bag making Yelena’s eyes widen,” It’s full of fake celebrations, Christmas, Eastern, New Years even birthdays all in one day. I believed it was all real back than. Me and Natasha wanted to open everyone of those fake presents” she said flicking through the pages, you put your chin on her shoulder watching as she flicked through the pages.” Well now we can fill the rest of the pages with real memories and Christmases etc” you said giving her a squeeze,” Can’t wait” she said turning her head and kissing your nose.

[scuttle-buttle]

Two Stars Miles Apart

Pairing: Andrea Marowski x GN!reader

WC: 2140

Rated: G

Tags: fluff, the sweetest boy, slight angst/hurt/comfort but only if you squint really, longing, polish (from Google, translation at the end)

Inspired by @nonamec0s

🎻

The feel of his lips on yours burnt into your skin as though he kissed you only a moment ago. You brought your hand up to touch your mouth. Weeks had gone by since the day at the train station.

The two of you had grown so close over the few months since Andrea had been rescued by the sisters down the road. You had met one afternoon while dropping off some fresh bread and cake to Ursula and Janet. After hearing of their young guest you figured it would be a nice and helpful gesture. Even so, you weren't prepared for the softest brown eyes and sweetest smile you had ever seen.

Andrea had taken a liking to you. The sisters invited you around often after that, hoping that someone around his age would be good for his recovery. You spent your days teaching him english; he spent his playing you the most beautiful music on the borrowed violin.

Over time you got closer. He learned a new piece because you'd said it was your favorite and reminded you of your late parents. You made raspberry jam biscuits weekly because you knew he loved them so much after he ate a whole batch in one day. Your conversations became less outspoken and more hushed; little whispered words and jokes only meant for one another. Each day you sat closer and closer to one another, legs and shoulders eventually touching, ignoring propriety. You couldn't care less, as you had fallen so completely for your sweet summer boy.

You hadn't known about Andrea's own affection for you. Despite everyone else in town being privy to your collective feelings, you were both too shy to say anything, or to notice the other's lingering gaze.

When London came calling you urged him to go. No matter your own feelings you could never bring yourself to hold him back from his dream, his destiny. He would impress Boris Daniloff and he would become a famous violinist - you'd be damned if you came in the way of that.

You don't know if it was excitement or heartbreak you felt standing there next to the train. His companion, Mr. Daniloff's sister, was already waiting in the train carriage.

Andrea held you tight, his arms wrapped around your waist, your own around his shoulders. Neither of you cared what the others would think of they saw you holding each other. Soft tufts of neatly combed hair brushed your temple. He smelled vaguely of cinnamon and vanilla, likely from all the time he has spent in your kitchen while you baked. You didn't know what gave you the courage, but you kissed his cheek, just barely missing the corner of his mouth.

It was then that the dam broke. Your sweet, reserved Andrea tilted his face into you. His own lips, a little chapped, captured yours in the most delicate of caresses.

Breaking away you both searched each other's eyes for some sign that this was all a dream, that it was too good to be true.

The second kiss was less chaste; innocent, yet had more depth and insistence behind it. Andrea's lithe fingers cupped your face with the same reverence he so often used to play his beloved violin. A whistle from the locomotive made you jump apart.

"You need to go or the train will leave without you." You swallow back your tears with a smile.

"I come again," he said. "I promise." With a hurried kiss to the back of your hand Andrea hopped on the train.

The first days without Andrea were difficult. You eyed the ingredients in your pantry and icebox, unable to convince yourself to use them. So you did what anyone else would have done in your situation. You made a cup of tea and sat by the shore. No one could hear the sound of your tears so close to the ebbing waves.

His first letter arrived about two weeks after he'd gone. When the postman rang you were beyond yourself with joy. Mr. Daniloff had been most impressed and introduced Andrea to the orchestra he belonged with. He was so moved by Andrea's skill that he not only requested he finish the tour, but even asked that he perform a solo.

The first letter had most definitely lifted your spirits. Life got easier, knowing that your Andrea was out there pouring his heart and soul into his music, but also that he still thought of you.

You settled into a routine after. The melancholia never fully subsided, but you knew he still thought of you daily. Every couple of weeks you would receive a letter from Andrea. Sometimes he would even send small trinkets from the city he performed in. You wrote back as much as you could, but it was hard with his schedule to know exactly where to write to and if he would receive it before leaving. In one letter you even included a small portrait of yourself. He kept it in his violin case.

You were sitting at your kitchen nook when the bell rang. The postman handed you a rather large envelope, this time addressed from the United States. Finding your place at the table you began to read.

Moja miłość,

I miss you every day more. I receive your letter and I am so happy to hear that Christmas was good for you. Perhaps next year we can do it together. Mama used to make pierniki. I can show you when I am home.

New York is beautiful. The buildings are so tall and there are so many people. I meet another Polskie! It was good to have something of Poland. I wish you could see. I will bring you next time I promise.

There is a gift here. I see it and think of you. I will come soon. I miss you.

Yours,

Andrea

You smile. His English really is improving. Pushing aside the wrapping you uncover a small illustrated book of sorts. 'Time Magazine' it reads.

Taking a few moments you flip through the magazine. Pictures of the United States give you a glimpse of what life is like there. Several news and popular culture articles fill you in on the state of things across the pond. And in the middle of the book sits a plucked and pressed yellow flower, sandwiched between a set of American recipes for bread pudding and something called a 'Coca Cola cake'.

Pulling out your stationary set, you begin to pen a response. A note within his package stated that Chicago, USA would be the next tour stop in a few weeks. Hopefully you could write and send it off today and it would arrive in time.

My dearest Andrea,

I hope this letter finds you in time. My, I feel as though every letter I write to you begins the same... I miss you more than I could ever hope to write. The words would never be enough.

Nothing has changed much here in Cornwall. Janet and Ursula are well and send their regards. They are so proud of you, as am I. I am so glad you have found New York to be agreeable, I love the gift you sent. Although, I must admit the flower is my favorite part. I have decided to use it to mark my place in my newest book.

I look forward to you teaching me your mother’s recipe. I have no doubt it will be delicious. Perhaps when you come home I will even make that pudding from the magazine. I’ll need someone there to help me taste it.

Come home soon my love.

//

Moja miłość,

The tour will be done soon I think. Then I will come back to you. The city is nice but too loud. There is a ‘skyscraper’ they call it with so many floors. My neck hurt to look up so much. Chicago has snow too like in Poland. When we come I will take you here.

I miss your cakes. You too, more. Mama would be happy to know I met someone like you. At night when I feel sad I look at your photograph. You are so beautiful, moja kochanie. They took a picture of me playing so I put it here for you to think of me too. I am counting the days until spring. Then I will come find you.

Yours,

Andrea

//

My dearest Andrea,

The days are getting longer here, spring is around the corner. I can feel it in the ocean breeze, but I long to feel your arms again instead. The stars are brighter in the night sky. They remind me of you, shining bright in the darkness of this world. I know we look at the same sky, even so many miles apart. There is so much I wish to be able to do and say with you.

I love the picture you sent. I keep it next to my bed so that I may fall asleep thinking of you. In my dreams we are together again.

Hurry home, my love.

//

Moja miłość,

I have three cities to perform in. Then I am yours always. We will not have to be apart again. I do not think I can. I look at the sky now because of your letter. I think we are like two stars in the sky. Close but very far away. My English is better but I do not know if I use it well when I say these things. Sometimes my Polskie explains better.

Kocham cię z całego serca. Moja muzyka nic nie znaczy, jeśli nie słyszysz, jak gram. Chcę ci pokazać świat. Chcę zawsze z Tobą być.

I promise I will be home soon. I will come.

I am yours kochanie,

Andrea

//

My love,

How romantic of you to write to me in Polish when you know I don’t speak a lick of it! I sent off for a translation but my efforts have not been fruitful. We English are not well versed in eastern languages. I suppose you will have to tell me yourself when you return.

I hope and I pray that day is soon. I do not think my poor heart can take much more time away from you. The blossoming flowers in the garden make me think of you. I often sit outside when I have my tea and biscuits. I make the raspberry ones you are so fond of. In truth - it is you that is sweeter than my cakes, not me. No one is sweeter than you my dear Andrea. Sometimes I fear our affection for one another would give me a toothache.

Please be home soon my love.

Once more the letters stopped arriving. This time you did not fear over his whereabouts or intentions. You knew he was the purest soul, that if he made a promise he would go to the ends of the earth to make it true. You assumed the tour was coming to a close. He must be busy with traveling and closing preparations of some sort. Any day now you expected to hear from him.

The sunshine warmed your face as you sat on your little garden bench. Tall grasses and flora swayed in the breeze. You could smell the salt from the shore down below the edge of your property. Gulls cawed overhead.

You think back to all those months ago when you first met Andrea - it had been almost a year now. The months of his soft smiles, his little giggles when you said something silly, the way he would always play for you while you made him cakes and sweets, the way he never once had anything negative to say. He warmed you more than the sun ever could.

You imagined the life you could have with him. Quiet mornings over a cup of tea, walks along the coast as the sun sets, him showing you all the new and fantastic cities he had visited on his tours, being able to fall asleep in each other's arms every night. Finding yourself so content in your thoughts you don’t hear the rustle of footsteps behind you.

“I told you I would come home.”

A breathy laugh escapes you at the sound of that accent you love so much. Turning, you see your Andrea, bouquet of wildflowers in hand, waiting a few meters behind where you sit. Nothing needs to be said as you bound over to him, wrapping your arms around him as tight as you can bear. His sniffles against your neck mix with the sound of your own.

You stand there just holding each other until the sun falls beneath the horizon; sharing delicate kisses and whispers of love and hope and happiness that only the two of you can hear.

GT translations:

"my love"

"sweetheart"

"I love you with all my heart. My music means nothing if it is not you hearing me play. I want to show you the world. I want to be with you always."

Based on this ask:

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