#goddamn the lighting is bad in the second pic

[kneesocktango]

Took me two months, but I finally finished knitting Hector's sweater from Great God Grove! I'm very proud of how it turned out, especially since it was a surprise gift for a dear friend!

Pattern: Calculate by James McIntosh

Yarn: Lion Brand Superwash Merino Yarn in paprika and mustard seed

Check your gauge! I ended up going up a size for both needles.

Washing instructions under the cut feat. the bizzyboys!

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

didn't realize this was the liberal arts; part four (jason todd x reader)

Jason chaperones your stakeout

part four of my college jason series. Rest of the series is here

you're quiet in one of jason's classes, but when he runs into you beating up his perp, he learns you're kind of an asshole. too bad he's gotta help you with whatever batshit mission you're on.

reader is gender neutral except Jason calls them princess. reader is less mean at this point but still not very nice. but jason's warming up to that.

swearing, as always. no use of y/n. I don't know how long this is.

_____

Jason’s phone is burnin’ a you-sized hole in his pocket.

It’s embarrassing, the way he dives for it when he gets a notification. More than once, he’s stopped during patrol and taken his phone out, just to make sure he didn’t miss your message. In his defense, it’s the first time he’s given his number to anyone cute.

Are you cute? Jason’s gotta run his teeth over that one. Objectively, yes, but also, you’re kind of an asshole. But that’s growing on him.

Either way, you’re driving him crazy. You have his burner number, why don’t you goddamn use it? It’s almost enough to make him call Dick and ask for advice. Almost.

Besides, you’re not in class this week. Which is concerning, because you took a nasty hit that probably gave you a concussion. So it’s not totally wild that Jason’s obsessing over your text. He’s got a neat little excuse he can hide under.

Finally, six days after you got hurt, when he’s lying on his couch and staring into space, he gets a text from an unknown number.

Addresses?

Jason laughs to himself quietly. That’s gotta be you; you don’t mince words.

Not yet

Jason hasn’t had a chance to get his hands on the info you were looking for, the addresses of some of Black Mask’s drug dealers.

Why not?

Christ, were you raised in a barn?

Been busy.

Jason thinks for a moment, then adds—

Running your errands isn’t the only thing on my to do list, princess.

Heh. Serves you right.

Jason has been busy, he’s investigating a string of armed robberies. Plus, and he’d sooner die than admit this to you, he’s not exactly great with computers. They were never his strong suit, and it seems like tech advanced by light years when he was underground. He can do it, but it’ll take some annoying grunt work he just doesn’t feel like doing.

Your reply dings.

Fine. Fair point.

Wow-whee. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to him.

Lmk when you get them.

Sure thing, princess

He makes a mental note to work on it tonight.

A few minutes go by, but you don’t say anything else. Maybe the conversation’s over?

Hm. Jason hesitates, then types out another message.

How’s your head?

It takes another few minutes, but then—

Fine.

Jason bites his tongue, considering.

You got it checked out?

Yes. Don’t worry about it

Well, unfortunately, Jason is worried about it. Enough that he won’t take this crap.

He wonders how he can tell you that without seeming like he cares. That seems like something he should keep close to his chest, right?

I gotta look after collateral damage. You get hurt, it’s on me.

Again, another few minutes until your reply. Jason doesn’t know what to do with himself while he waits.

YES I got it checked out. It’s FINE. In bed for a few days, that’s it.

Good. A thought occurs to him, he can’t resist teasing you.

Send a pic of the scans?

He laughs, imagining your reply. It’s near immediate.

Fuck off.

Jason smiles at his phone. That, he thinks, is definitely the end of the conversation. But if he finds those addresses for you, he’ll get another one. He goes over to his desktop and gets to work.

Two hours later, he’s got two addresses for his pains. He doesn’t waste a second before sending them your way.

Got ‘em

He waits impatiently for your reply. Five, ten, twelve minutes go by, but he just sits at his desk and stares at his messaging app.

Finally:

You free tonight? I want to check them out

Uh. What.

Tonight? He glances at the time; it’s already 9:45. Jason should be getting ready to suit up.

You mean now?

Yeah, whatever, I can be ready in half an hour

There’s a wild, plunging feeling in his stomach. Can Jason be ready in half an hour? Can he be ready at all? He realizes his heart is pounding, his breath coming thick and fast.

Jason drops his phone with a thunk. He tries to get a grip on himself, but he can’t; you’ve hooked him up to an electric current and slammed a thousand volts through it. You free tonight? You free tonight? Your simple message loops through his brain over and over and over again. You free tonight? Does he have time for you tonight? It sure seems like you have time for him.

You free tonight?

Fuck yeah, he is.

He picks up his phone with shaking fingers. He’ll meet you tonight, but how should he tell you? What should he say? Should he just type out something like “fine?” That’s probably what you’d say to him, but he doesn’t want to talk to you like that. Just a simple “ok?” Why is this so fucking hard?

His eyes alight on his helmet, sitting on his coffee table. Right. He’s not doing this as Jason, who you hate. He’s doing this as Red Hood, who you need.

And Red Hood knows how to do a stakeout.

Jason turns back to his phone.

Gimme a few hours, princess. I gotta put my makeup on.

Two hours later, he’s in a crap car outside your apartment building, waiting for you to join him. He’d bought the car quick and paid cash from a chop shop nearby. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he sees you exit the building and approach him warily. He waves you inside.

“Come on, hop in.”

You roll your eyes but cross in front of the hood regardless, slipping off your backpack and sliding in next to him. “What’s with the car?”

Jason waits for you to put your seatbelt on, then shifts into gear. “You don’t have to climb a fire escape to get a good look at a place. We’re watching from right here.”

“Fine.” You turn to look out the window as Jason navigates through the streets. He surveys you from his peripheral vision; you seem to be fully recovered from your mild concussion. You’re carefully noting the route he’s taking; at one point you raise your eyebrows and nod grimly. Jason taps lightly against the gearshift. He knows better than to ask you about it.

After twenty minutes on the road, Jason eases the car to the top of a hill and cuts the engine. “Guy’s apartment is there,” he nods to a building that the hill has put at eye level. “Tenth floor, fourth window from the left.”

You cock an eyebrow. “There’re no lights on. We have to wait for them to wake up?”

“More likely that he’s on shift, dealing.” Black Mask’s guys usually work round the clock, each one setting up shop for a few hours before rotating out. Your mouth settles into a hard line, and you nod.

Jason lets out a breath, settling in for the long haul. It might be hours until anyone comes back. “What are we here to look for?”

You glance at him. “I’m looking for a guy. I know his face and where he dealt. I need to see him to recognize him, make sure it’s the right one.”

Hm. “Whatever you say,” Jason agrees, and silence falls between you.

Idly, Jason wonders what’ll happen next. He’s used to long stakeouts and knows how to occupy himself, but he wonders what you’ll do. After a few minutes, you open your backpack and pull out a book. It’s the reading for next week’s lit class, La Princessa de Cléves by Madame de La Fayette. “You mind if I get some work done?”

“Nah.” He hesitates; he wants to use this opportunity to pry, but he can’t let on that he already knows so much. “You a student?”

“Yeah. Gotham U.” You prop your legs on the dashboard and flip the book open, sticking your tongue between your teeth. Jason studies you as you read ten pages. Turns out he’s never seen you happier than when you’re reading. You smile, chuckle, and smirk knowingly as you go, scribbling furious notes with a pencil you’ve brought with you. He can’t help but smile behind the helmet. A thought steals into his head: will you ever look at him that way? He brushes it aside.

After twenty minutes, you snap the book shut and tip your head back toward the roof of the car. You close your eyes and tap your fingers on your thigh, brow furrowed in concentration. After a few more minutes, you sigh, giving your thigh a short slap before opening your eyes and pulling your knees to your chest, resting your head on them.

Of course he has to know what’s going on in your head. Jason clears his throat. “Book get your panties in a twist?”

“Nah, not the book.” You let out a huff. “Just trying to figure out what to say in my class.”

Huh. Jason didn’t know you planned your remarks ahead of time. He wants to ask what you’ll say, but you beat him to it. “Someone is going to make a connection to the author’s personal life, I know they are,” you explain. “And then, I’ll say,” you nod to yourself. “Yeah, okay, I’ll say that we always talk about the female authors’ personal lives more than the men’s. Which is true,” you add, as if Jason is going to argue the point. “We do. It’s an imbalance. I’m right to point it out. But then,” you roll your eyes. “Then, this other guy is going to try and counter me by saying that, even if I’m right, which I am, we can’t ignore the similarities between the author’s life and the text, because it leads to a richer analysis. And then he’s going to give some text examples.” You scratch your nose. “It’s fucking annoying. We’ll both be right.”

Jason’s eighty percent sure he’s the guy you’re talking about. He has to nudge you. “Why don’t you just tell this guy that he’s right?”

You scowl. “Absolutely not.”

Jason grins fit to split his face in half. “Then why don’t you just keep your mouth shut?”

You glance at him, sideways. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Yeah. That’s exactly it, isn’t it?

“What’s this guy’s name?” The words are out before he can stop himself.

You examine your fingernails. “Jason.”

You’re talking about him. His heart thumps crazily. Careful, he screams at himself. Watch it, watch it, shut the fuck up, shut the fuck—

“What’s he like?”

Blood pounds in his ears. You look over at him with suspicion. “Why do you care?”

Fuck. He fucked up. You might work out who’s under the mask. He wasn’t careful, and now he’s put you both at risk. Idiot. Jason shrugs helplessly.

The skepticism doesn’t leave your eyes. Jason scrambles and pulls something out of his ass. “Just trying to figure you out, princess.”

“Hm.” You turn away, looking resolutely out the windshield.

Jason breathes out shakily. He clean got away with it. Does this mean he can ask you more questions?

“What do you study?”

You shrug. “I haven’t officially decided, but literature, probably. English.”

Huh. Just like him. “Why?”

You shrug. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Yeah. Just like him.

Jason leaves that alone for now. “Where’d you learn to fight?” he asks instead.

“Just karate classes I took as a kid, and judo.”

“You’re good,” Jason offers.

You scoff. “Sure, thanks.” You turn to look at him, raising your eyebrow and giving him a smirk that momentarily distracts him. “Where’d you learn to fight?”

Uh oh. Mute, Jason jabs a finger at the bat symbol on his chest.

“Right,” you nod. “Is he, like, your mentor?”

“Was,” Jason grunts, hoping you’ll let it lie. You don’t.

“‘Was?’ What happened?”

Fuck. Does Jason really want to do this? Also, and this really doesn’t fucking matter, but why are you more interested in Red Hood than Jason?

“Uhh…” he trails off, hoping you’ll pick up on his reticence. You cross your arms over your chest and look at him expectantly.

Damn it. “Uh, yeah, he was my mentor, but then…” but then what happened? Did Batman betray him? Did he fail his Robin? Or did Robin fly a little too close to the sun and get what he deserved?

“But then I…I left.” Closest he can get to the truth. “And he replaced me.” He can’t say any more, can’t breathe past the lump in his throat.

“Damn. That sucks.” You unfold your legs, setting them onto the floor of the car. “My mom kind of did that to me.”

He tilts his head at you. “She left,” you say, voice tight. “Went off and had more kids. Didn’t bother to keep in touch with me, though.”

Oh. “That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

Jason mulls this over. Your story is a lot closer to his than you know.

You remain quiet, but his hackles are up; it’s been a long-ass time since anyone confided in him. He glances your way. Your face is relaxed, you don’t seem to regret sharing that.

Huh. Huh, huh, huh. Jason’ll run away with that one if he can’t control himself.

“Oh, shit.” He looks up; your eyes trained on the apartment building. “Lights are on.” You look at him. “You got binoculars in that thing? Forgot mine at home.”

Jason laughs quietly. “Yeah, hold on.” He adjusts the helmet’s lenses. “What kind of guy you lookin’ for?”

He feels you tense next to him. “White guy. Blonde, dirty beard.”

“Anything else?”

You lock yourself down even further. “Disgusting-ass diamond neck tattoo under his chin,” you spit.

Jason waits until whoever entered the apartment comes into view. It looks like it might be a woman; whoever it is, they don’t fit your description. “No dice.”

“Great.” You slump down in the seat. “Now what?” Jason thinks it over. “You’re the professional,” you remind him.

Sure he is. “We stake it out for another week and a half, maybe two,” Jason decides, “then move onto the next address.”

Here, he holds his breath. It won’t take more than one week to sniff out this apartment. This, he knows. He could also stake it out alone. This, he knows.

You cluck your tongue. “Okay, if you think it’s the right move.”

This should reassure him, but it sets him even more on edge. Ugh. It feels like stealing, all he’s getting away with, all he’s getting out of you. Should he feel guilty?

“Do you have time to stake it out every night this week, then?” You turn to him; eyes hopeful but guarded. The only thing he can do is melt.

“Yeah, I’ve got time.” Not really, but he’ll make it work.

“Cool.” You flash him a small smile, one he’s never seen before. He has no idea what to do with it.

You flick your eyes to your watch. “I gotta go in an hour,” you say apologetically. “That okay?”

“Of course,” he says automatically. “I’ll give you a ride back.”

You give him that same smile again. It explodes across his chest.

Satisfied, you turn back to the apartment complex. Jason swallows, fingers twitching. Confusion and guilt swirl across his brain. He agonizes for the next hour and a half, until you’ve called it for the night and he’s driven you home.

Until you’re standing outside the driver’s side window, rapping on it to get his attention.

“Hey. Hey.” You raise your eyes meaningfully as he starts, then rolls the window down. “You okay in there?”

His laugh is a bit weak, but the modulator covers for him. “‘Course I am.”

“Okay. Well. Thanks for the help. Same time tomorrow?” You give him another smile he’s never seen before; wry, almost teasing.

He nods, watching you until you disappear inside your building. Two smiles he’s never seen before, both directed at him. The guilt is long gone. The only thing Jason is thinking about is how to get you to give him another.

[sketch-guardian]

Mc having a second secret acc that the rad classmates and angels don’t know about and it’s literally them just being super down bad saying the most heinously down bad things that got even the devil and god shaking in their boots from how down bad they are so down bad they’ve become a meme but for shits a gigs I think it’d be interesting if they heard about it from other students from RAD and just assume the worst of what’s in the acc and ask azul to snoop/azul snoops and around and it’s just Mc being so down bad like going feral down bad ex

“So you guys saw how Domnra beat the shit out of that student today right? Well goddamn how I wish it were me like YALL SAW HOW HOT HE LOOKED RIGHT?!”

Like it’s just Sukuna/Gojo fan level of downbadness like so down bad it’ll get a reaction out of Nathanial type of downbadness!!

Or another scenario is they’re already dating and Mc is pretty normal like normal flirty stuff but the acc is jsut horrendous from how down bad they are

(Sorry for the word vomit😭)

Don't worry about the word vomit, honestly I find this ask hilarious😂I'll try my best to write some good headcanons☺I also apologize for the delay🙈I was looking for a university for a master's degree these days, lessons start next week so I'll start being busy again😭:

"RAD CLASSMATES+NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A DOWN BAD MC WHO OWNS A SECRET ACCOUNT DEDICATED TO THEM"

DEMYA

Demya is a pretty shameless demon, especially when it comes to her mate, in fact she would have no problem with PDA or showing her affection for MC through compliments and praise, after all she has to let everyone know that they're a couple, so as to discourage competition and let them see just how proud she is of MC. So, the fact that MC has a secret secondary account dedicated exclusively to simp for her even at different times of the day, such as when she eats, hunts or dances, would make Demya curious about the reason for MC's secrecy, but also very amused, she would probably tease MC about it every now and then, even posing on purpose in case they wanted to post new pics, maybe even together this time. It wouldn't be the first time she has received compliments, but Demya would prefer them from MC, because they would be more genuine and without ulterior motives

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra, of all people, would actually be the one with the most doubts and who would immediately think the worst at the suspicion that his partner is hiding something from him, not because he doesn't trust MC, but because he is a fairly insecure demon, although it doesn't look like it, especially due to his anger issues. Therefore, when Mobim would cheerfully come to him with his D.D.D in its little arms in order to show him a surprise, Domnra would be quite puzzled, but relieved, to find out that MC only has a secret secondary account used to post sappy comments about him. Domnra would be quite flustered to read certain down bad posts, especially those about him listening to music, his training sessions or fights, it's likely that he wouldn't confront MC on the subject, however Domnra would usually reread certain posts when he feels down, to raise his self-esteem. Mobim, instead of down bad comments, would find posts where MC would treat the little curse as a baby or a puppy. Mobim would likely be more affectionate towards MC, grateful for their love

AZUL

Bold of MC to assume that Azul wouldn't post down bad comments and photos dedicated to his lovely star without shame on his main Devilgram account, after all he is a simp par excellence and proud of it, Azul isn't bashful to show his devotion and admiration for his source of inspiration, that is MC. It wouldn't take Azul long to figure out the identity behind MC's secret secondary account, he would chuckle to himself as he read the posts, while his colors would change from light blue to pale pink, index of affection. In a sing-song tone Azul would go to MC to tell them he had discovered their little secret, teasing them lovingly with hugs and kisses. Azul wouldn't understand the reason behind MC's shyness, but if they want to simp for him in secret while he paints, sculpts or floats around, who is he to stop them? Azul would also find amusing that both him and MC seem consider themselves each other muses

ZURI

Not gonna lie, Zuri has several admirers despite having worked as a model only on few occasions, so being flattered would be nothing new for her, even as an angel in the Celestial Realm she had people who at the mere sight of her turned to stare at her beauty, Zuri's aware of her appearance and makes sure to take care of it, however she wouldn't pay much attention to fans, more committed to improving her style and sewing skills. It's likely that Azul, being a troublemaker and a snitch, would show Zuri the down bad posts about her and it would take Zuri only a few seconds to guess that MC was behind the secret account, probably recognizing their way of typing, she's a detail-oriented and perceptive demon after all. Zuri would find MC's sappy posts about her working, trying on new clothes, during social events and although slightly exasperated, she would eventually let out an amused scoff and smile faintly. Zuri would approach the topic with MC with caution, not wanting to embarrass them too much, to their surprise she might even propose to do something romantic together in the privacy of her home, given that they seem so infatuated with her

ODON

Although Odon doesn't use social media much, because technology sometimes struggles to work due to their eldritch horror nature, that doesn't mean they wouldn't discover MC's secret secondary account, rather they would find out about it thanks to their eye-like creatures, who can see everything in Devildom, probably even MC writing the down bad posts, unknown to them, in fact the grumpy eye-like creature (Bob) would stare at MC with an unimpressed gaze, while the cheerful eye-like creature (Rob) would look at them with a sly gaze, in any case, the familiars would report everything to Odon. For Odon, such down bad posts would remind them of their youth, when there were some cults that worshipped them and made sacrifices in their honor, hoping of being noticed. Looking back on it, Odon would find that past fact quite awkward, because although flattered, they would think it was all quite unnecessary. However, MC's comments would please Odon, because they would be grateful to be genuinely liked and to be seen as a good friend, even if some posts would confuse the eldritch horror, especially the most feral ones, for simple actions such as reading or cooking. Odon would only confront MC on the subject if they thought they wouldn't get too embarrassed, after all Odon doesn't want to upset them, they would likely write MC a poem though, to return their kindness in their own way

REMIEL

Remiel is still learning how to use a D.D.D, having never had to use such means of communication before, so someone else would have to show the angel of death how social media works and possibly let her discover MC's secret secondary account, a guy like Azul for example. Remiel, as often has occurred, would be a little confused by such custom, not understanding the feral posts and trying to interpret them from a logical point of view, furthermore she wouldn't know why MC posted such comments instead of talking to her. Remiel, being a gloomy yet blunt angel, would have no trouble saying what she thinks of MC, even if her statements would be more on the sweet, emotional and poetic side. MC's down bad comments that would strike Remiel the most would be the soft ones, those of encouragement, complimenting her while she learns, flies and stares at things absent mindedly, the sweetness could make Remiel shed some tears, not used to such displays of love if not from her family. Speaking of feral posts, since she would be confused, Remiel would ask for explanations from a person she trusts, namely her father Death, so depending on how inappropriate some of MC's comments are, they could find the fucking grim reaper outside their front door

NATHANIEL

In the Celestial Realm, Nathaniel is seen as a sort of mentor, a figure that many look up to for wisdom, so it wouldn't be uncommon to find people who admire him for his appearance as well, ethereal according to some, without effort, Nathaniel has always been very casual about it though, since physical appearance is one of the last things on his mind. Nathaniel knows enough about social media, he would check them every now and then out of pure curiosity, but he would still be flabbergasted to see posts about himself and it takes a lot to catch Nathaniel off guard, so MC's down bad comments must be really feral to have made even the archangel react. Nathaniel would be amused to see sappy posts about him as he meditates, takes strolls through nature or practices archery with his hair tied in a ponytail, he would find them cute, if a little exaggerated. MC would notice Nathaniel occasionally glancing at their D.D.D and then showing them a small knowing smile, without elaborating any further, before disappearing into another room, leaving MC with the doubt of whether or not he has discovered their secret, his nonchalant and quiet attitude wouldn't help at all. Nathaniel may seem innocent, but he can be a bit of a tease when he wants to

URIEL

Uriel wouldn't often use a D.D.D, not used to communicating with similar means, so it would take someone like Nathaniel to point out to the warrior angel that someone is writing about her and with great enthusiasm to boot, he would also make it clear that MC is the one behind the secret account, otherwise Uriel would ignore the matter. Uriel would be confused by the praise, as she technically isn't a saint to be worshipped or entrusted with one's prayers, however she would still appreciate the admiration towards herself, especially during her training sessions, duties and times in her armor. However, Uriel wouldn't understand why MC, in their secret secondary account, would confess and insist on wanting to be crushed, stepped on or squeezed by her, the warrior angel would not find such masochism healthy and could get scandalized by some feral posts. At the beginning, Uriel would ask MC for explanations, but over time, despite the embarrassment, Uriel would also proclaim her pride and love, only upon request though, as she thinks such displays should be private

[venomous-qwille]

I start with a quick comp sketch ! This step is necessary because art is chaos and once you actually start painting you will be glad you have something to look at and remind yourself what the fuck you're doing. Once this sketch is done I line it and figure out the way the water is going to make shapes- I can use this water layer later (set to multiply) to instantly add depth:

Next is the underpainting layer- I come from a trad painting background and it's my fervent belief that this is the real secret sauce to lovely colour. Go ham: add as many bright, saturated colours as your little heart desires- the more textured the brush the better. Some artists who use this technique like to stick to complimentary colours, personally I prefer to live on the edge and make it up as I go. Follow your heart: (Extra tip- turn your line art into a mask and fill it with a very saturated colour- red, purple or blue etc- avoid black at all costs, we want to keep aaaall desaturated colours away from the early stages of our painting. Only add black at the very end- it will stop your colours getting muddy when you use the eyedropper tool)

Lol looks terrible right now, but don't feel bad. It's all worth it in the end.

Time to paint the rest of the owl. No really, smother all your beautiful vibrant hues in gross desaturated colours which are much closer to real life. Use a textured brush to block in the values/shapes and forms- you should still be able to see some of your bright underpainting peaking through! Once you have put down your more saturated block in you can start to play with fun things like blood and iridescence. Iridescence is all about contrasting desaturated/saturated hues which share a value- if you look at the below two pics and squint you will see that the tail stays the same 'value' in both- one just has flat colour, whereas the other has very saturated colour of the same value slapped on top. Your eyes will always read changes in value contrast first and colour second! As artists we can abuse this to great effect.

I always use HSB sliders to track the value & hue relationships on my work as I paint:

If I'm feeling extra powerful I will use the RGB sliders:

HSB sliders let you understand and make changes to the colours in your painting really fast! RGB sliders however allow you much MUCH more subtle control, and playing around with these will teach you a lot about hue/value relationships but learning to read them is a goddamn arcane art. If you can master RGB sliders you will essentially ascend to art godhood (I am just a novice). The down side is the RGB method is very very time consuming to use & learn. To get an iridescent effect e.g on Moon: use your colour panel (whether you are going RGB or HSB) as you paint to shift blue hues to purple and cyan while always keeping the value the same. Use these colours to pick out the highlights. Try to avoid using white/desaturated brights when attempting to make something look nacreous- you will just end up mucking up the value levels/exposure of your art and lose out on a bunch of colour opportunities. Speaking of colour opportunities.... if you are working on mers leverage the water- any opportunity to have light bounce around in your image is an opportunity to add more colour. I used it to add extra contrasting greens because why not.

Ok that was a bit of a tangent. As I rendered out the rest- eg the net and the fishy patterns I just focused on opportunities to add colour contrast wherever I could. For example- adding yellow to moons tail- even a tiny bit kinda helps the iridescent purple/blue pop a bit more. The goal is just to keep adding more and more colour until your brain melts and you're like fuck it I'm done.

Anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk.

Shallow Water

[staticscreenwriting]

Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes

One - When Harry met Sally 

Synopsis: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. Growing  up, Bucky had not a doubt in his mind that his undeniable charm and his gorgeous smile would one day help him find the one. Now he realizes there’s so much more to romancing women, especially those from the 21st century. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is not a love story. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for EP1 of TFATWS)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

“ Now in the movies they make it look so perfect And in the background they're always playing the right song And in the ending there's always a resolution But real life is more than just two hours long “

Some Avett Brothers song sounds from the little radio that sits on the corner of the counter. Thick drops of rain pearl against the window, racing each other down the glass before meeting up eventually and becoming one with each other. 

(Y/N) refills the last of the mustard bottles, setting it on the counter next to the others. It’s a quiet night at the diner. The kitchen’s been closed for an hour now and usually, that’s when people stop coming in. While the Little Blue Diner is known for their hot dogs and burgers, neither their coffee nor their cold sandwiches are gonna win any prizes any time soon. 

And yet …

Sure enough, as her eyes lift towards the figure slouched down in the corner booth, his gloved hand is already outstretched, signaling his desire for yet another refill.

A mixture between a chuckle and a scoff tumbles from her lips at the thought of him wanting more of the slightly burned liquid. If there’s one thing (Y/N) can admit to being bad at, it’s brewing coffee. Where there should be a rich brown color, hers usually ends up with an inky black hue and instead of leaving a hint of warm caramelization on your tongue hers just tastes bitter. It doesn’t seem to face the man in the corner though. Not even a little bit. To say this worries her is a bit of an understatement. No one in their right mind would take 7 refills of her witch's brew.

“ You okay, my dude ? “ (Y/N) inquires as she steps up to his table, coffee pot in hand. 

The man doesn’t look up at her. He doesn’t have to. She’s acutely aware of the character currently occupying the corner booth. It’s a face she knows like the back of her hand. One that’s been staring at her from books and documentaries, one she’s been greeted by every time her dad took her with him to the Smithsonian. Though they do not dare look up at her, she’s so awfully familiar with the bright blue shade of his eyes, he might as well be a long-time friend. 

“ I’m fine. “ 

Of all the lies in the world, “I’m fine” must be the most unbelievable one and yet the one told most often. No one who’s actually fine ever says those words. Those two words are reserved for the lonely and broken only. It’s like getting “I’m not fine at all” tattooed across your goddamn forehead. 

“ Sure you are, that’s why you’re having the 7th refill of my god awful coffee. “ 

“ ‘s not that bad. “ 

“ Sure, if you’re into licking charcoal it’s probably not that bad. “

It’s just a split of a second, a fraction of a moment, but (Y/N) is sure she can see the corner of his lips lifting slightly. It falls back into the stoic scowl immediately but it was there. For a teeny tiny moment, there was the shadow of a smirk on his face and that’s a success in her book. 

“ Either way, here’s how we’re gonna do this. I’ll give you one last refill, after that, I’m cutting you off, my friend. I know I’m a waitress and it’s my job to bring you what you want but I do not fancy watching you suffer a caffeine-induced heart attack in this very diner. I am not equipped to handle a situation like that and quite honestly they don’t pay me enough to deal with that either. “ 

His eyes are still trained on the scratched-up white linoleum table but ever so faintly he nods his head in silent agreement. 

As promised, she pours him one last cup of coffee. A brew so dark it could rival the bubbling goo of a tar pit. 

“ Enjoy your last cup of the night, Mr. Barnes. “ 

It’s then, as she’s just about to walk back behind the counter, as those words leave her lips, that he looks up for the first time since he’s walked in. 

His eyes are the exact shade of blue she’s so familiar with but there’s something else about them. An infinite sadness haunts every spec of blue. Where she thought there would be a sparkle of adventure, a hint of mischief, there is just loneliness. This is not the man she’s read about in museums, heard about in stories. This man right here is completely and utterly lost.

“ I - I uh — “ 

He clears his throat, once, twice, then nervously brushes his hand across his face. 

“ I can go if you don’t want me here. “ 

“ Huh? “ 

“ I asked if you want me to leave. “ 

As those words escape him, his eyes seem to grow even more devastated. They glimmer with memories of a time long gone and a future uncertain. Shine with hurt and fear. 

“ Why would I ask you to leave? “ 

Bucky shrugs his shoulders in a way to make it look nonchalantly. It’s hard to seem casual though when you seem to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders. 

“ People who recognize me usually aren’t so keen on having me around. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m uh — I’m not people’s favorite person. “ 

It’s a sad thought, (Y/N) realizes, to be constantly bound to a past that is yours but never really belongs to you. To be forever linked with the horrible actions of a version of yourself you had no control over. And no matter how hard you try to set it all right and to repent for your wrongdoings, to some people it will never be enough.

“ No, you don’t have to leave, “ (Y/N) reassures before sliding into the booth opposite him. “ I don’t know you because of — because of what happened. I know you first and foremost as Sergeant Barnes, former officer of the 107th Infantry Regiment, part of the Howling Commandos, and best friend and brother to Steve Rogers. Everything else that’s — none of my business really. “ 

Bucky lifts his eyes off of the table again and while the sadness is still there, something else lingers for a moment. Curiosity, intrigue maybe, or just relief. 

“ Wow. Didn’t think I’d run into someone reciting my life to me. Huh. “ 

“ My dad used to be a curator at the Smithsonian. He was in charge of the Captain America exhibition. I’ve seen your face a million times, visiting him at work. I gotta say though, you look way more approachable and friendly on the picture they put up. “ 

This time, it’s more than a fleeting moment, this time she’s sure about it, this time he lets out an actual chuckle. 

“ I was a lot younger then, okay? Cut an old man some slack. “ 

“ Oh, you pulling the old man card now? “ 

“ Is it working? “ he asks, eyebrows raised in question. 

“ Not really. “ 

“ Ah, what a shame.” 

Silence settles upon them again like a thick duvet filled with feathers, it’s not uncomfortable but it’s smothering anyway.

“ Do you wanna talk about it? Your sour mood, I mean.” 

Bucky shrugs again “I have a therapist.” 

“ Does she make you draw your feelings? “ 

He smiles again at that question. His smile, (Y/N) thinks, ain’t the worst thing she’s ever seen. She wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.

“ No. Why? “ 

“ Mine did. She stopped pretty quickly though, I guess my drawings were too detailed and gory for her.” 

“ Huh. “ 

“ Mmmh.” 

After another sip of coffee, one he takes without grimacing, without showing any sign of disgust for the burnt brew, Bucky speaks up again.

“ Mine thinks I’m lying to her. “ 

“ Are you ?” 

“ Well yeah, but she doesn’t need to know that.” 

“ Maybe telling her the truth would help you. “ (Y/N) suggests only to be met with a determined head shake No from Bucky. 

The notification sound of a phone pulls them from their conversation and at the sight of the name on the display, Bucky lets an “oh shit” slip from his lips.

“ Don’t you sound excited about getting texts from your friends, “ (Y/N) jokes

“ I had a date last night. That’s her. “ 

“ Since she’s texting you I assume it went well. “ 

Bucky grimaces at her words, slightly shaking his head in disagreement.

“ No? “ 

“ I mean, I had fun and it went well — at first. She’s really sweet. But then we started talking and I may have run. “ 

“ Ran where? “ 

“ Away. “ 

“ Away as in you left. “ 

“ Mm-mmh” 

“ Just like that? “ 

“ Yup. “ 

“ Why? “ 

He throws up his arms in frustration and shakes his head again as if to gather all his thoughts and rattle them neatly back into place. 

“ I don’t know, okay? I haven’t been on a date since the 1940s. Everything I know about women and dating and romance seems antiquated. I’m overwhelmed and confused and I just don’t wanna do anything wrong.” 

“ Dude, you ran from your date without any explanation. How much worse could you have handled it? “ 

“ Yeah well, hindsight is 20/20. “ 

While his words try to sound light and nonchalant, his shoulders tense and his whole demeanor seems to shift back into the gloomy state he’s been in since he entered the diner. Like a big cloud that’s following him around, casting shadows at all times and hardly allowing any light to shine through.

“ Look, I don’t think any of us know what the heck we’re doing half the time. Like, trust me I know what I’m talking about. Online dating means I have to choose between men who think posing with a dead fish will make me want to sleep with them, men who think knowing obscure Star Wars facts can replace having an actual personality, and men who send me pictures of their … privates without me ever giving any indication of wanting to see those. So yeah — dating can really s - be frustrating. “ 

Bucky regards her for a second, the right corner of his lips pulled into a lazy lopsided smirk.

“ Did you just censor yourself because you don’t wanna swear around me ?” 

“ Maybe, but that’s beside the point. The point is, we’re all just human and in the end, we’re all just looking for someone to like us the way we are, all quirks and issues and baggage included. I know women might seem intimidating but really all we want is to be loved and appreciated. And not the over-the-top build-you-a-house, the notebook kind of love. More like the Harry and Sally kind.“ 

(Y/N) can almost see the gears working inside Bucky’s brain, the desperate attempt to make any sense of all the words and phrases she’s just thrown at him. A jumbled mess of pop culture references swirls through his head like a swarm of bees, chaotic and messy. 

“ I have no idea what you just said. “ 

“ When Harry met Sally? “

Bucky just shrugs and shakes his head.

“ You’ve never seen it? “ 

“ I’ve been a bit preoccupied with being blipped away into oblivion for the last 5 years. So I haven’t really had the time to get into movies yet. “ 

This time it’s the gears in her own head that start turning. 

“ What are you doing Friday night ? “ she asks, biting her lip in nervous anticipation.

“ I — I don’t know. “ 

That’s a bit of a lie, really. He does know. It’s the same thing he does pretty much every other day. He gets some takeout, brings it home, sits down in front of the tv, tries to get lost in whatever show they put on, fails at doing so, reads a few pages of a book, lays down to sleep, and then wakes up a little while later to yet another nightmare, tangled up in sweaty sheets, heart racing. 

(Y/N) doesn’t need to know any of that though. He doesn’t tell his therapist so why would he tell a random stranger.

“ Well, don’t make any plans. We’re gonna kill 2 birds with 1 stone. “ 

“ We are? “ 

“ Yeah. Trust me on this one. “ 

“ I don’t even know you. “ 

“ Sure you do. “ (Y/N) says and taps the tag pinned to her baby blue polo shirt with the diner’s logo on the back.  “ I’m the one who serves you just enough coffee to keep you happy but not have you die a painful and honestly mildly embarrassing death. “ 

Every part of him screams at him to say no. To stay away from her the way he does from most other people, even Sam. To get up and get out and not cause any more damage than he already has in other people’s life. But then he remembers his therapist's words, he remembers Leah’s face full of confusion and disappointment, he remembers the empty feeling in his chest. That feeling of pure and utter loneliness. 

“ Alright, Friday works for me, (Y/N). “ 

“ Perfect, Bucky. “ 

“ Bring a jacket. “ 

The address and “Bring a jacket” that’s all she’s texted him. No explanation, no plan, nothing. 

Bucks leans against the streetlamp, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. Anxiety is washing through his system like tidal waves on a stormy ocean. This whole being spontaneous thing was much easier back in the 40s. When his shoulders weren’t so heavy with guilt. When he didn’t have to constantly face the consequences of his actions. Consequences of a past he can never quite outrun no matter how far he goes and how hard he tries. 

Maybe this is good, he has to remind himself. Getting out of his comfort zone, if that even exists for him. Opening himself up to new opportunities. Maybe even make a friend. (Y/N) seem nice enough, if a bit peculiar. 

His shrink would be proud of him. Getting out there, talking to people, being approachable. This must for sure earn him some kind of gold star equivalent in her notebook. 

“ Hey there, Mr. Grumpyface. “ 

(Y/N)'s voice cuts through the chilly New York night like headlights through thick fog. She strolls towards him, lips pulled into a big bright smile. Leading up to tonight he’s spent quite a lot of time wondering if this is some kind of project for her, if maybe she sees him as a sort of charity case. Something to earn her karma points. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the genuine joy radiating from her face lets those worries melt away instantly. 

Maybe, Bucky thinks, she really just thinks he’ll make a good friend. And maybe he can. 

“ Hi, (Y/N). “

“ You brought a jacket” she points out, pinching the black leather between her fingers. Her nails are painted in various shades of red, each finger a different hue. 

“ I did. You told me to. “

“ And you listened! “ 

“ Why wouldn’t I ? “ Bucky inquires, a look of confusion settling on his face.

“ You wouldn’t believe how many men think wearing a jacket when it’s cold out somehow clashes with their need to demonstrate their masculinity. “ 

“ Wow. “ he exclaims.

“ Yeah. So anyway, you ready to go up? “ 

She nods her head towards the house across the street. It’s a slim multiple-story brick building with rusty fire escapes. It looks like a residential lot, not much else that could give away (Y/N)’s plan for the rest of the night.

“ Up? “ 

“ Mm-mh. “ (Y/N) nods and motions towards the top of the building. “ to the roof. “ 

“ The roof? You’re not planning to push me off or anything, right? I don’t usually spend time with strangers on rooftops. “ he tells her, a smirk lifting the sides of his lips.

She grants him a smile in return. One of those that you try so hard to suppress but despite your best efforts they find their way onto your face anyway. Because some smiles demand to be smiled. And her smile is pretty cute, he thinks, it deserves to be seen. 

“ Foiled again, damn Bucky. I’m a waitress with a useless degree in literature and creative writing but assassinating you was exactly what I had planned for tonight. Couldn’t let me have that one, huh? “ 

“ Sorry to spoil all the fun. “ 

She softly bumps her shoulder against his right side as she passes him and crosses the street. Her red skirt flutters around her knees like a ribbon of fire, bright and warm and —

“ You coming, grumpy ?” 

“ Yeah uh — yeah sure. “ 

The walk upstairs is filled with chatter from her and nodding from Bucky. It’s been like this most of the time since — well since he’s really back. Other people usually do the talking and Bucky listens. It works most of the time. Works with Yori. Sometimes though, sometimes it doesn’t. He can see people getting frustrated with him. Hell his own therapist does and she knows the baggage he has to carry around. 

This is different though, (Y/N) doesn’t seem to mind much. She’s a waterfall of words and topics and doesn’t seem to get bored or annoyed with him. It’s nice. 

A heavy iron door swings open as they reach the top of the building and as soon as they step out onto the rooftop balcony they get engulfed in an ocean of lights. They’re strung from one end of the roof to the other and back again. Next to the door, a little makeshift bar is set up, and a guy in a Star Wars shirt hands out beers to people. 

Multicolored deck chairs and beanbags are haphazardly placed across the entire roof, all pointing towards the corner furthest away from the door where a big white sheet hangs spanned between two poles. 

“ Sooo you gonna tell me what we’re doing here? “ Bucky asks again as (Y/N) steers him towards a cluster of chairs in the back. 

“ Some peeps I went to university with, set up movie screenings here every once in a while. I could pull some strings and got to choose the movie. “ 

“ We’re gonna watch a movie? “ 

“ Not just any movie, “ she exclaims and drops down onto one of the plastic deck chairs that looks like it used to be bright pink once but is now but a bleached blush colour from being exposed to the sun too much. “ We’re watching when Harry met Sally. “ 

Bucky slumps down on the chair next to her, a blue one with white daisy patterns. 

“ Me not knowing this movie really does bother you, huh? “ 

“ It’s a classic, might as well start with this one. And anyway, maybe this can help you get back into the dating game. Ya know, help you understand modern romance. “

“ You think so? “ 

She shrugs and starts fumbling around in her bag, “ I dunno. It might. And if it doesn’t at least you’ll spend your time watching a good movie and get to experience the blessing of my company. Ah-ha! There you go “ 

Her hand reaches out holding a bag of M&Ms.

“ I brought snacks. “ 

More and more people start occupying the chairs and bean bags and a few minutes later a guy steps up in front of the sheet. He’s wearing a shirt with a black and white bird pattern, huge glasses with a brown frame, and jeans that don’t cover his ankles. He’s tall and lanky and his hair is so messy, Bucky wonders if it’s intentional or if he just hasn’t brushed it in a while. 

“ Hi guys, I’m Andrew. For those of you who don’t know me, I live in apartment 2B and I just wanna say thank you for showing up and welcome you to our movie night under the stars. A few days ago we received a special request from one of our good friends and because she let me stay on her couch for several months back during our college days and I still owe her for that I couldn’t reject her request. So thanks to Miss (Y/N) over there in the pink chair you now get to spend the next 90 minutes watching Meg Ryan fall in love with Mike Wazowski. Enjoy. “ 

As he steps away from the sheet, the lights are turned off and the MGM logo pops up on the screen. 

“ Trust me, Bucky. This one’s so good.” (Y/N) assures before throwing some M&Ms into her mouth, now entirely focused on the movie.

It takes a while for Bucky to relax. Being around so many people and not having any fear of what’s lurking around the corner is still very new. Letting go is never as easy as it sounds. Eventually though, his nerves settle down a little and as the movie progresses, he finds himself relaxing more and more. Something he hasn’t done in a long time. Not since Wakanda.

Exactly 46 minutes into the movie, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander to her left where Bucky, until now, sat slumped into his seat. Still perpetually grumpy but more chilled out and relaxed than she’s seen him before. Until now. A moaning Meg Ryan visible making him uncomfortable.

“ You okay, grumpy? “ 

He doesn’t grant her a real answer, just scoffs and rolls his eyes. There’s a smile though, she’s sure. Somewhere hidden there is another smile. 

“ So, what did we learn today? “ 

Bucky looks at (Y/N) who has her arms wrapped tightly around her middle shielding herself from the chilly night air. The movie night has ended a while ago and the two of them are slowly strolling along the New York City streets on the way back to (Y/N)’s apartment. 

“ To take your own advice and dress warmer for a movie night? “ 

(Y/N) chuckles. “ No, grumpy. I meant the movie. “ 

He shrugs at her question. Quite honestly he hasn’t learned anything new. Nothing about the movie seemed in any way revolutionary to him nor does he see any benefit for himself and his dating life going forward. But the way she looks at him right now, expecting something grand not from him really but some beautiful consequences to her ideas, that makes him reconsider. Sure he could tell her that it was just a silly little movie about people falling in love but that would no doubt hurt her, even a tiny little bit. And if there’s anything Bucky has enough of, it’s hurting others. 

“ I guess that men and women really can not be friends. “ 

“ Noooo! No. Is that really what you took from this movie? “ 

“ That’s literally what happened. “ 

“ Okay first of all it works, look at us! We’re friends! Second of all, that’s not what the movie is really about. It’s about love and vulnerability. It’s about overcoming all the tiny things that can work against you and your relationship. Like distance and timing and egotism. It’s about hiding who you are because really opening up to someone, being your authentic true self with all your faults and imperfections, that makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable is fucking scary. But love is worth it anyway. That’s what the movie is about. “

As Bucky noticed before, some smiles demand to be smiled. They need to be smiled because they’re important and they mean something. The one gracing his face now, that’s one of those. One of those you remember because you feel them all the way in your heart.

“ You think we’re friends? “ 

“ Oh, are we — are we not? “ 

“ No. I — no, we are! I’d like to be friends. “ 

(Y/N) abruptly stops in her tracks, turns towards him, and holds out her hand. “ To friendship.” 

“ We’re shaking hands on it? What is this, a business deal? “ 

“ You know what, yeah now that you mention it that’s pretty lame. “ (Y/N) agrees, balling her hand into a fist “ how about a fist bump, bro? “ 

Bucky reluctantly knocks his right hand against hers before continuing his walk down the street. “You call me bro again I’m canceling the friendship. “ 

“ Alright. Noted. “ 

“ So have you talked to the girl again? “ 

“ Hmm? “ 

“ The one you went on a date with? “ 

“ Oh, Leah. Uh — no.” 

“ Why not? “ 

Bucky throws her a look. One that says “are you kidding me?”. One that says “ you know why.” 

“ Cause I ran out. That’s embarrassing. She’s gonna think I’m insane. She’s never gonna wanna see me again. “ 

“ I sincerely doubt that. You just gotta say sorry. I know in Love Story — that’s a novel and also a movie from the 70s — they say that ‘Love means never having to say you’re sorry but that’s a load of bull. Just say sorry and ask her for a do-over. “ 

“ And then what? We play a rematch of battleships and talk about my trauma? “ 

“ Well, what did you do on dates in the 40s? “ 

That time, his youth, that seems like a different life altogether now. So much happened between then and now and the man he is now, has no relation to the boy he was then. Sometimes looking back hurts, makes it painfully obvious what he’s lost. But sometimes, like tonight, he can feel a hint of fondness coursing through him at the thought of times long gone.

“ Dancing, mostly.” 

“ Like, ballroom dancing? “ 

“ Swing. “ 

“ You swing dance? “ 

“ I did. “ 

(Y/N) regards him through squinted eyes “ really? “ 

“ You don’t believe me? “

“ I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a dancer. “ 

Not a second later, Bucky’s gloved hand grabs onto her’s and twirls her towards him then away from him and back in. 

“ You twirled me! “ 

“ Mm-mh.”

“ I’ve never been twirled. That’s so fun. “ 

It’s like autopilot taking over as Bucky holds onto her, twirling her again then pulling her in and swaying them in a circle. It’s not swing dancing, not even close but there’s no music either, and anyway, his dancing days are over. But sometimes you gotta make a point and if that means slow dancing in the middle of an empty street then that’s that. 

The night wraps them in a blanket of comfort and intimacy as the stars and the New York skyline try to outshine each other. It’s a moment so peaceful, Bucky can’t remember the last time his heart felt so light, his mind felt so at ease, his entire being got to let go and just be alive and in the moment.

And then the shine of headlights rips them from their moment and makes them jump back onto the sidewalk. 

“ Get off the road you fucking morons! “ 

“ Gotta love the big city folk. “ 

“ Yup. “ 

“ Hey, Bucky.” 

“ What? “ 

“ You really can dance.” 

“ Told you. “ 

“ Can I tell you a secret? “ 

“ Sure. “ 

“ I can’t dance for shit. “ 

“ That so? “

“ Yup. Which means you gotta teach me. “ 

“ Absolutely not.” 

“ Oh, 100%! “ 

“ We’ll see about that.” 

There are nights you try to forget. Nights that you wish to never ever remember. Ones that break you. That beat you down and leave you bruised and battered.

Then there are nights like this one that you want to hold onto for just a little bit longer. Those that fill you with joy and an immeasurable thirst for life. The ones that make you feel grateful to be alive right here and now. 

The inevitable end of the night creeps closer as they arrive at (Y/N)’s front door. Neither of them really want to say goodnight but both know there’s no use in delaying it.

“ I hope you didn’t hate the movie too much, “ (Y/N) speaks up, leaning against the front door of her apartment complex.

“ No. It was fun! Although I still don’t know who Mike Wazulsky is. “ 

“ Mike Wazowski, he’s — you know what? That’s a conversation for another time. “ 

“ Alright, if you say so. “ 

“ Thanks for walking me home. “ 

“ Oh, yeah no need to thank me. It’s the right thing to do. “ 

For a moment they just stand and smile, trying to cherish the last few moments of this night. 

“ We should do this more often. “ Bucky suggests, surprising even himself.

“ For sure. I still have so many movies to show you. “ 

“ Can’t wait. “ 

A slight sense of awkwardness falls over them as neither of them knows what to do. Go for a hug? Shakes hands? Wave goodbye? 

“ I uh — I should go. “ 

“ Yeah, of course. Have a good night, Bucky.” 

“ You too, (Y/N).” 

“ Oh and Bucky? “ 

“ Yes? “ 

“ Give Leah a call. “ 

Bucky nods his head before turning around and walking back into the night.

As he takes the way back to his own home, there are only two things on Bucky’s mind: the vulnerability of falling in love and the question of who the hell Mike Wazowski was. 

[neverendingdream111]

GENSHIN IMPACT AS IDOLS

- one of the groups consists of: Zhongli, Childe, Venti, Xiao, Diluc, Kaeya and Albedo

- Zhongli is the leader and the oldest obvsly and his smooth deep voice is to die for

- He's also the visual along with Albedo (tho everyone here is gorgeous, ngl)

- Childe constantly switches between rap and vocal, but he's mostly recognized for his amazing dancing (he's the main dancer for a reason)

- Venti is the main vocal and possibly writes most of their songs (sometimes Albedo helps him)

- Funnily enough, Venti is often confused for being the maknae while in reality he's the second oldest in the group

- Xiao is the main rapper

- He refuses to sing but would do it if asked (rarely)

- and he's the real maknae - even tho he hates it he can't do anything about it (and everyone, especially Venti and Childe, loves teasing him for it)

- Diluc and Kaeya are the other rappers along with Xiao and they are related in some way tho both refuse to reveal anything to the public (but everyone is convinced they're brothers)

- they don't get along most of the time and argue constantly, but it only amuses the rest of the members and the fans absolutely love their arguments bc it more often than not turns into a rap battle

- and let me tell you, they completely kill it

- then, we have Albedo. He and Zhongli are the most peaceful ones and most likely keep the team together bc if not those idiots would've caused absolute chaos eons ago

- His voice is angelic, everyone adores it

- Childe and Kaeya are the most chaotic duo especially together

- they have the stupidest ideas and like to mess around

- and they are perfectly aware of their god-like looks and also have the audacity to use it "against" their fans (not that anyone complains)

- they are partners in crime when it comes to teasing Diluc

- Kaeya does it on a daily basis and Childe found it funny and decided to join him on causing inconvenience to others, lol

- Xiao, even though he's an idol, hates interacting with humans but makes an exception for fanmeetings, concerts, interviews and such because Zhongli raised him right--

- he has a soft spot for cats and would have one at the dorm if it wasn't for Venti being allergic to them (although he doesn't see any problem with it)

- speaking of the dorm, it's the pure definition of destruction

- Childe and Kaeya being the little shits they are room together and they are that kind of roommates that would blast music on full volume in the middle of the night just because they felt like it (but obvsly they do it to summon a demon in the form of sleep deprived Diluc because they know he's a light sleeper)

- Venti at some point moved in with them bc he felt like it and it's totally not because Xiao kicked him out--

- Zhongli and Diluc share a room because they both know how to appreciate a moment of peace and they just like each other's company; their perfect afternoon on their day off is sitting there with a cup of tea each and exchanging stories they've heard and/or experienced

- Albedo is probably the only person Xiao would room with excluding Zhongli (and maybe Diluc but it's debatable) because he's calm and collected, doesn't talk too much unlike the other three and when he does talk it's nice to listen to him

- also, the sound of sketching calms him down

- Venti somehow lives in all of the rooms in the dorm. First he roomed with Xiao and Albedo, but he got kicked out by the maknae. Then he gravitated towards Zhongli and Diluc but after a few days the redhead got so annoyed with him he ended up with Childe and Kaeya. The three of them share a braincell, that's why they get along so well, but even though he lives with them he sometimes ends up in the other rooms but that's just him

- he likes a change of scenery, ehe

- Zhongli's the dad of the group

- whenever someone has a problem they automatically go to him

- also, even though they are a really chaotic group, they are equally capable of working together (main reason why they are so goddamn awesome on stage)

- Xiao might act like he doesn't care but he does. A lot

- every time one of his hyungs is having a bad day he subtly tries to cheer them up. He feels awkward with words in these moments and physical contact isn't really his forte but instead he does things like buying them their favorite snack, or opting to watch their favorite film with them (even if he absolutely hates it he still would watch it)

- everyone obvsly knows what he's doing and they appreciate it

- Childe and Kaeya actually aren't as easy-going as they like to appear on stage. They are really emotional human beings and are probably most affected by hate comments and such

- Diluc, as much as he despises their attitude and teasing he has to endure bc of them, cares about them a lot and usually he's the one to knock some sense in them when they believe the haters or just have a bad day. He may not like their behavior but he's not heartless and deems them as family (even tho he wouldn't admit it)

- Albedo isn't a lot older than Xiao, maybe something around a few months, so everyone thinks of him like a second maknae and just because he gives off the vibe, y'know

- He loves drawing and sometimes does a sketch of one of the members or recreates a fanart of them he saw on Pinterest (cue to the fans going wild)

- He, alongside with Diluc, often cooks for them. They both are amazing cooks and I refuse to believe otherwise

- Venti has a playlist prepared for every occasion and uses them accordingly

- he also has playlists dedicated to every member of the group and it's his way of cheering them up or being there for them when they are separated

- as for the run episodes, well.... It can be described in one word

- chaos

- they're even capable of riling Zhongli up!

- tho he mostly opts to watch the chaos from the sidelines, snickering under his breath, he ends up in the crossfire from time to time

- contrary to popular belief, the most competitive ones are Diluc and Xiao

- they are so set on winning they sometimes forget that it's all a game

- Childe once got an elbow to the face in one episode but still no one knows who did it (it was Kaeya--)

- Albedo is just... There, tho he does enjoy it. More than he would admit

- Childe and Kaeya are dying of laughter most of the time and do stupid things that probably only they understand which makes the other laugh harder

- and Venti absolutely loves being the host: it gives him a perfect view of his friends who half the time have no idea what the hell is going on and, of course, power

- the fanmeetings are just the other excuse for them to make fun of each other and fool around

- fans don't mind it one bit because it is honestly hilarious to watch the utter chaos unfold

- even when they are signing albums and merch they throw comments here and there to provoke the other

- especially Xiao bc he's a softie when it comes to their fans and as long as the girls don't do anything... Weird, he doesn't mind interacting with them and sometimes finds himself actually enjoying the contact

- while we're on the fanmeetings--

- Zhongli is absolutely wonderful. He's the kind to delicately hold your hand, look into you eyes and smile softly while focusing entirely on you and what you have to say, indulging into conversation as well

- if it wasn't for the staff members reminding him that the time's up, he would spend at least an hour with every fan

- Childe is so excited he grins so much his cheeks hurt, and would look at you like you just made his day. You can be stuttering, super nervous and anxious and he'd just say it's completely fine and that you should take your time, even if the staff says that you should move to the next member

- Venti is the one that talks a lot, but would shut up and listen to you. He especially likes playing with your hands or just some games like rock-paper-scissors

- he also loves it when some fans show him their singing and he encourages them to go on, synchronizing with them and making an amazing duet

- Xiao is, like I've said before, a big softie. He really appreciates the fact that people find their music nice and genuinely like to listen to it. Would probably ask you questions like "what's your favorite song?", "What do you think of this album *gestures to the one he just signed*" etc

- he DID wear cat ears once because a fan gave them to him and they looked kind of cute

- he didn't hear the end of it for two weeks minimum and Childe and Kaeya probably have the pic as their wallpapers

- Diluc is the most... normal one? I mean, he enjoys the meetings a lot, but he doesn't show his excitement as much as the others. Conversations with him are like talking to an old friend that understands you and it's just so... wholesome

- he's honestly surprised when he gets gifts from the fans. He does appreciate it of course, but he just doesn't really understand why you would go as far as to give him something for no particular reason please give him lots of love he needs it-

- Kaeya is the one with the audacity to flirt with you. Loves seeing the blush on your cheeks and just enjoys annoying people. Though he sometimes stops it out of mercy and opts to talk with you like a normal human being--

- most protective of their fans. Sees one in distress or being picked on, immediatly steps in or tells a staff member to handle the situation

- Albedo is somewhere between Zhongli and Diluc's behaviour tbh. He's really sweet, loves talking to the fans and gets super excited whenever one of them shows him a fanart - especially if it's an original idea

- now let's get to the best part

- as lovely and peaceful as they are on a daily basis, they turn into freakin devils on stage

- kind grandpa with a calming voice? Who's that? A goddamn satan entered the chat

- ooooh, the cat lover? Sorry, we only have a mf demon available

- don't even get me started on the Childe-Kaeya-Diluc trio--

- all in all, they may be annoying each other night and day but they still love one another like family and their bond only strengthens when they stand in the spotlight

I had this idea today and, well, it turned out like this, hope you enjoyed! I also may be doing some sort of continuation to this with Xingqiu, Chongyun, Razor and Bennett as a trainee idol group so let me know if you'd like something like this and if you have any ideas for other groups!

02.05.21

~Nana

[mypoisonedvine]

Hunt (dark!Slayer!Bucky x vampire!Reader)

a.k.a. Bucky the Vampire Slayer

a.a.k.a. Bucky the Vampire Layer

full credit for this idea goes to @deceitfuldevout​ who shared her genius with us for the concept of witch/witch-hunter, which morphed over time into vampire/vampire-hunter, which I eventually adapted into a weird amalgam of a Buffy AU and a Supernatural AU

@giorno-plays-piano​ asked to be tagged if I ever did it!

Warnings: smut, blood play (just a lil tho, but lots of talking about blood bc she’s...literally a vampire), degradation kink, sex that turns dub con/non con, kidnapping

(we are sadly deprived of any gifs of Bucky in the new jacket but please know the pic below is the Bucky we’re working with here)

Bucky clenched his jaw in frustration as his head fell back against the headrest.  His grip on the steering wheel tightened with a squeaking noise as his skin skidded along the leather.

He was irritated because he knew what was waiting for him at the end of this road.  The headlights only illuminated a little of what was ahead, but the predictive power of past experience told him everything he needed to know.

You were going to be waiting for him, and he never looked forward to that.

Memories resurfaced of the last time he had seen you.  He’d found you in the forest and though he couldn’t prove it, he was pretty sure he’d interrupted you feeding on a deer.  It was disgusting.  Yet, you moved with this grace he couldn’t ignore and spoke with a smile that he couldn’t forget.  You greeted him with a familiarity that he wished wasn’t merited.  He was a Slayer, you were a vampire; there shouldn’t ever be a second meeting.  He should’ve killed you the first time, however many months ago it was.  He couldn’t even remember why he didn’t, but you slipped away that night and he swore to track you down.

He did, but he didn’t kill you that time either, because you’d proven useful.  You’d sold out a vampire who pissed you off and Bucky got to put another kill under his belt.  That was definitely the only reason he’d left you alive.  

Then the forest.  You were more feral that time, and he saw more of your monstrous side than he had before.  So why was that the time he thought about when he tossed and turned at night, when he was too pent up from years of solitude, when he forced his eyes shut and slipped his hand into his boxers under the sheets--

Destination is on the right, the GPS alerted with a robotic voice.  Thank god.

Bucky pulled the car into the driveway of the dilapidated mansion, shifting into park and turning off the engine; the metal blasting from the radio halted unceremoniously.  

He didn’t hear the commotion inside the house until he was quite a ways from the car and halfway to the door.  Of course he considered that it was a bad idea to just walk in the front door of a suspected vampire coven as a Slayer, but he wasn’t here on a hunt.  At least, not the normal kind.

Before he was even on the porch, the door opened with an outpouring of pink light.  He shielded his face with his arm as his eyes adjusted, but put it down when he saw it was your silhouette in the doorway.

“Slayer,” you hissed with a smile that blended pleasure and disgust.  He knew the feeling.

“You could call me Bucky,” he offered.

“It doesn’t suit you,” you explained, leaning against the splintered wood of the frame.  “I wasn’t sure you were going to come.”

“Neither was I,” he admitted with a shrug, “but how could I resist a chance to jump into the lion’s den?”

“You’re here to take on a coven?  By yourself?” you laughed.

“I’m not looking for a fight,” he denied.  “I’m looking for information.”

You raised a brow as if to say go ahead.

“A girl in the city,” he continued.  “Mysterious death.  Coroner is stumped, thinks it could be anything from an animal attack to a blood disorder to a ritualistic murder.  Has your name all over it.”

“‘Girl’?” you repeated, as if you’d never heard the word before.  “Girl, no, I don’t remember any girl.”

“White, blonde, 5’2”, 26 years old,” he listed.

“Oh!” you stopped him.  “26!  You mean a woman.  Yes, I remember feeding on a woman.”

“So you’re confessing?” 

“To what crime?  She was going to die in less than a year, easily,” you shrugged.  “She did have a blood disorder.  Leukemia.  She didn’t know it yet.”

“And do I want to know how you knew it?” he shuddered.

“It’s a unique taste,” you grinned.  He felt a little unwell hearing you say that.

“I’m not sure if you’re familiar with human law,” he frowned, “but it’s still murder even if they were going to die soon.  It’s murder if they were actively dying.”

“I was human once,” you deflected.

“In 1447,” he growled.  You would’ve blushed if you could; you were flattered that he remembered.

“Yeah, murder investigation at that time was… very surface-level,” you admitted.  “Is your plan to arrest me, then?”

“I’m a Slayer.  Not a cop.”

“What you are is a wet blanket,” you grimaced.  “We’re busy in here, you know.  Big party.”

“I was hoping so,” he smirked.  “That’s what you promised.”

“Then why don’t you come in?” you asked coyly.  You hadn’t really expected him to do it.

Everyone inside jumped and scurried away the second he set foot in the door.  “It’s cool,” you told them, “he’s with me.”

That didn’t seem to comfort them that much, because what business would you have with a Slayer?

They must have figured it out when you slipped away to a secluded room and dragged him along with you.  He didn’t seem to figure it out until you were pushing him back against the wall, running your hands over his body through his clothes. 

“What I would give to feed on you,” you whispered, running your lips over his neck.  You took in a deep breath and felt a little light-headed at the overwhelming smell of his blood.  He, unfortunately, reeked of Slayer, and you pushed back your instinct of fear to appreciate the man underneath.  AB positive-- your favorite.  “Wanted you ever since I first saw you,” you admitted.  “You looked so fucking delicious.”

You pulled back to look up at him and you didn’t need vampiric hearing to know that his heart was racing: just the way his eyes darted across your face and down to your lips was proof enough.

“Why did you come here today, Bucky?” you asked quietly. 

“I’m on a hunt,” he answered in a low growl.

“For me?”

“For you.”

“You have me alone,” you noticed.  “You could get out your wooden stake and end this for good.”

He nodded, but didn’t move.  Instead you felt his hands trail along your sides; he jumped when he brushed the skin of your arm.  “You’re so cold,” he realized.

Meanwhile you thought you could burn up from the heat of him, radiating out of his body and through the thick layers of clothing.  He was so alive, so awake, so present.  

You pushed off his leather jacket and he didn’t even think to stop you, letting it fall to the floor.  You never cared for it.  He looked as good as sin in it, yes, but it smelled of death and dead things, the skin of something you wouldn’t have eaten when it was alive 40 years ago, and you wanted only to experience the life of this particular being.

And what is life but wanting?  Fuck, you wanted him so goddamn bad.

He wrapped a hand around your neck and pulled you into him, kissing you with instant need and dizzying aggression.

Even now you weren’t sure if he would let you live to see the end of the night.  But you couldn’t see the sunrise anyway, so what difference would it make?

He made embarrassingly quick work of your dress, tearing it straight down the front.  Downside of wearing something you’d had for nearly 100 years is that it’s flimsy.

His hands were back on you the second your skin was exposed.  His touch was so hot that it almost hurt; his hands were so rough and strong that your heart almost clenched.

You clawed at his shirt and gasped with delight when you accidentally nicked him with a sharp fingernail and broke the skin.  The flavor hit the air hard and fast; you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward so you could lean down and lick the thin red stripe you’d left on his chest.  Just a taste, but the best taste you’d had in… you couldn’t remember anything tasting this good.

“I won’t kill you if you don’t kill me,” he offered breathlessly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you agreed quickly as you began to work open his belt because the last thing on your mind right now was survival.

You groaned when you felt his cock in your hand.  There was a lot of blood in that thing and you could feel it pulsing in your palm.  You knew better than to put it in your mouth; you didn’t have the restraint for that.  

You were thankful you hadn’t drank any more of his blood because clearly he had a better use for it.  It was so big you wondered how he hadn’t passed out from it getting so hard because seriously, this man’s cock was a monster; takes one to know one, eh?

“Fuck me,” you demanded, “I want you to fuck me, oh my god.”

He nodded as a low groan echoed out of his chest.  His grip moved to your hips as he pulled you up and put you on the table, pushing you down and bending over you with another bruising kiss that trailed down your body.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” you whined, “I need your cock.”

“Wait,” he instructed, kneeling before you and licking through your exposed folds.  You gasped, unprepared for how strange it would feel; your hand grabbed his hair and pulled harder than you meant to, but thankfully, he didn’t slow down.

Little moans and grunts were lost against your skin as he tasted you eagerly.  You were so overwhelmed with the sensation that he had to hold your hips down to keep you from squirming away.  You’d been feasting on humans for 600 years, and now it seemed like he was attempting to even the score.  Even you never ate with this enthusiasm.  But you’d never thought about a meal so much before consuming it as he had thought about you before this moment.  

You were already embarrassingly close to orgasm, and it was apparent from the way you moaned and writhed and begged.

“I’m so fucking close, just like that, please don’t stop, yes, yes, oh fuck, yes,” you yelped.

It all came to a screeching halt as he stood up and grabbed your face with his hand.  You looked at him with wide eyes, confused but still appreciating how good he looked with wet lips and dark eyes and his hair all fucked up.

“You aren’t gonna come,” he explained between raspy breaths, “until I’m inside you.”

You nodded in agreement, again arching your back as if you could will him to fuck you.

He slid his cock through your folds, coating himself in your arousal which was embarrassingly plentiful.

Finally, he pressed his cock into you all at once and you gasped, head falling back against the wooden table.  He groaned as he gripped your hips, steadying you so he could piston into you with brutal force.  

And to think you thought he was going to stab you through the chest with a wooden stake.  To be fair, he still could.  

He scooped you into his arms, pulling you up until your face was right against his.  “You’re warm here,” he informed you with bared teeth, “did you know that?  So hot and tight around my fuckin’ cock.”

You could only moan, your eyes darting to his parted lips, and then his neck.  You were thoroughly tempted, but didn’t want to do anything that might stop him from fucking you so perfectly like this.  His hand came up to wrap around your throat-- the metal one, specifically.  You were pretty sure he’d lost the arm to a monster fight of some kind but that didn’t matter now.  All you knew was that this one was strong enough to crush you and it was making your head dizzy and your pussy wet.

Your moans were lost to his grip as he choked you, and you could hear the ragged sounds of his breathing as he fucked you deeper and harder.  “You like getting fucked by a Slayer, huh?  You’re such a whore.  My whore.”

You gasped when he released your throat and you could breathe again.  “Yes,” you agreed with a sob, “yours, baby.” 

He chuckled a little at that, slipping a hand between your bodies to rub your clit with his thumb; you yelped and grabbed his shoulders tightly.

“You’re gonna come already aren’t you?” he mocked.  “Dumb fucking slut.”

You hissed at his harsh words but you were too lost in pleasure to complain.  Your eyes shot open when you felt two of his fingers slam into your open mouth and hit the back of your throat.  “Choke on my fingers while you come, bitch,” he growled.  “And I swear if you fucking bite me, you’ll regret it.”

It was like asking you to take a sip of sweet wine but not swallow it.  His skin tasted fucking delicious on your tongue, which you swirled around the digits eagerly.  He laughed: “such a fucking slut, sucking on my fingers like that.  You want it so bad.”

You nodded breathlessly, whimpering as you took his fingertips down your throat.  He groaned and slammed into you harder, which only served to bring you that much closer to the edge.  

“Come on my cock, right now,” he demanded, and you liked to believe it was just lucky timing and not his command that struck you at that moment.  Your nails dug into his shoulders as you felt yourself flexing and clenching around his length, another gush of arousal easing his way as he relentlessly pounded you.

“Good girl,” he praised, pulling his fingers from your throat to hear you pant with exhaustion.  He stopped to lift your legs onto his shoulders, pushing you back but leaning over you.  When he slammed into you again that time, you nearly screamed-- he was hitting something so deep in you that it was actually painful.

“Stop, it’s-- it’s too deep,” you moaned.

You tried to move back but he held you down firmly, a dark glimmer in his eye.  He thrust in again, even harder, and you cried out as you tried to grab onto the table for dear life.  He grabbed your wrists with each hand and pinned them beside you, laughing as you tried to fight him off.  

Any normal human you could overpower in an instant.  But you were no match for a Slayer.  Both of you knew that.  

“Let me go,” you begged, “you’re hurting me.”

“I could do a lot worse to you if I wanted.  You should be thankful I’ve let you live.”

“I could say the same,” you snarled.  He pulled back and rammed his cock into you so hard that you instantly screamed, tears sliding down your temple.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” he ordered.  “Just be a good little whore and take my cock.”

He started to move inside you, hard and fast, and you couldn’t help but struggle against him as he hovered above you.  

“Apologize,” he demanded, and just as he sensed you were about to tell him to fuck off, he accentuated it by holding his hips to yours a little longer than normal, reminding you that he could hurt you so easily if you didn’t obey.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, “I’m sorry, Bucky, please don’t… please don’t hurt me.”

He grinned as he watched you cry.  “This is what you fuckin’ get for teasing me.  You killed that girl to get my attention.  You wanted me to find you and fuck you the way you’ve been missin’ out on for the past few centuries.”

You shook your head to deny it but he suddenly let your arms go to slap you across the face.  You tried to use your free arm but in an instant he had your wrists pinned to your chest, putting all his weight on you until you could barely breathe.

“Just admit it, baby,” he said in an oddly sensitive way, like he was taking pity on you.  “Just admit you need me.”

“Please,” you sobbed, near-silent from the lack of air, “please…”

“Aw, look at you,” he cooed, “begging for more.”

He trapped your wrists under his left hand and used his right to roughly grab your jaw until your mouth was forced open.

“Show me your teeth, gorgeous,” he purred.  You hissed as your fangs glistened in the candlelight.  “Mmm, you wanna bite me, don’t you?”

You tried to nod but couldn’t move your face much.

“The feeling’s mutual,” he grinned.  “Fuck, I’m gonna come.  Gonna fill that tight little cunt.”

Your fight was renewed as you tried to kick and squirm away but it was useless.  You grunted as his thrusts became erratic but even more painful, somehow.

“Beg for it,” he growled through his teeth.  “Beg for my fuckin’ come.”

You tried to fight but only got another slap to the face, the sting making your eyes water instantly.  

“Beg, whore,” he repeated, yelling.  “I won’t come until I fucking hear it.”

“Please!” you yelped, and in a sense it was genuine, because once he came this would all be over, and maybe-- just maybe-- he would let his guard down long enough for you to feed on this evil son of a bitch.  “Please come, Bucky, come in me, I need it!” 

“Yeah, I know you do,” he laughed confidently, holding you down by your throat as he pumped into you one last time with a shattered moan.  “Fuck!” he sighed, savoring the feeling of your unwilling body forced to accept his seed.  The truth was, you were tighter when you struggled.

He only let you breathe once he was done, and you choked and spluttered for air as he pulled out.  The second you thought you had your bearings together, you were sitting up to lunge at him.  You felt something press against your chest and even before you looked down you knew it was over.

A wooden stake.  He’d had it the whole time.  You looked back at him and he was smiling, the bastard, even as he was still catching his breath from fucking you.  The sight made you shudder.

“I was gonna fuck you, and then kill you,” he admitted, “but now I think I’ll keep you.”

You hissed with a grimace, flashing your fangs, but knew you had no recourse, no options, no way out.

“You look so cute when you’re scared,” he smiled.  “Can’t wait to take you back to mine, trap you in a little salt pentagram, and fuck you senseless whenever I want.”

You whined, closing your eyes as you realized how well and truly fucked you were.  

“It won’t always hurt so bad.  You’ll get used to me.  And I’ll feed you enough to keep you alive.”

Sounded like a cruel existence, but you weren’t ready to get the business end of your stake, so you swallowed dryly and nodded in acceptance of your fate.  

He laughed and placed a chaste kiss on your cheek before guiding you to stand on weak knees.  “C’mon baby, let’s get you home.”

[nethandrake]

do i wanna know?

stevetony. mcu. rated t. 2.8k words.

for @ishipallthings

also on ao3.

*****

He hears before he sees them, their voices loud enough for Steve’s ears to pick up.

Steve reaches for his hand towel, dabbing the sweat trickling down his head and cheeks. “Uh, JARVIS? Who—”

“Miss Romanov, Mr Storm, and sir.”

Steve couldn’t help but scowl at that. Wonderful. Just what he needs right now.

And to think that he could hole up in here, away from...them.

There are many things a lot of people don't know about Steve, one of them is that he isn’t very fond of the Fantastic Four.

Okay, that might be stretching things. It’s not like he hates them. He actually admires how well they work together, which makes sense considering they’re family, and well enough with the Avengers. It helps that both teams get on well with each other, going so far as to taking vacations and hosting monthly gatherings.

Ben’s a blast to have around during Game Nights (how he wins every single time during poker, Steve will never know) and while Reed might talk circles around Steve’s head (not on purpose, of course), he can’t help but admire his intelligence, only second to Tony. He doesn’t have anything negative to say about Sue and not just because he’s afraid of losing a limb. She’s a total sweetheart and fun to gossip with.

And then, there’s Johnny Storm.

Speaking of Johnny Storm, he swaggers inside the gym like he owns the place, his smug grin ever plastered on. He has an arm around Tony’s shoulder, a detail Steve tries hard to ignore. Thankfully for his sanity, Natasha trails in after them.

“Hey, Cap,” she says as the trio comes to a stop in front of Steve. “Up for a spar?”

“Uh, sure.” Steve’s eyes trail over to the person next to him, almost freezing at the sight of Tony clad in a black tank top. And judging by the light sheen on his tanned skin and the way the cloth clings to his lithe frame, he must’ve been down in the workshop before this.

God, those muscles and that stupid tank top are going to be the death of Steve.

“Hey,” he manages, inwardly cringing at how breathless he sounds.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Natasha rolls her eyes.

Tony flashes a toothy grin that might or might not make Steve feel lighter. “Hey yourself.”

Steve couldn’t help but break into a smile of his own.

“And just what am I?” Johnny demands, placing his hands on his hips. “Chopped liver?”

Just like that, the moment’s ruined. Steve fights off the urge to roll his eyes.

He'll never figure out how the Fantastic Four could stand him.

Tony chuckles, clapping Johnny on the shoulder. “He probably thought he was looking at the mirror.”

Steve feels himself scowl at that.

Right. How could he forget that one little detail? For some reason, people seem to think that Johnny's the spitting image of Steve, from the blond hair to the startling blue eyes to the chiseled jaw.

Steve might've found the comparison amusing, if Johnny isn’t such a hot-headed brash asshole, a self-centered flirt who can’t, for the life of him, take anything seriously. In fact, Steve might've found Johnny tolerable or god forbid—

“Hello? Earth to Spangles?”

Steve blinks, finally noticing the hand Johnny’s been waving in front of him. “Sorry, I was just...just wondering why the both of you are here.”

He instantly regrets the accusatory tone when Tony flinches. If he hadn’t been for his four-year friendship with Tony, Steve's pretty sure he wouldn’t have noticed. Tony's tells are subtle like that.

Johnny waves his hand around in dismissal. “Oh, you know. Thought I’d get Tony to take a break. Figured he needs some fresh air, maybe some eye-candy to ogle.”

Tony snorts, crossing his arms. “Again with that shit. Yeah, yeah. You got me out of the workshop. It isn't something to gloat about.”

“Hey, I have the right to gloat about it. You're as bad as Reed when he gets into the zone.” Johnny smirks. “Even Sue could hardly tear him away from work.”

“I get Tony out of there all the time,” Steve blurts out.

“You mean, you have to haul his ass over your shoulder,” Natasha pipes up.

Steve shifts his glower down at her. She meets him with a cool gaze, her lips curled in a half-smile.

Johnny’s lips shift into his trademark Cheshire grin, waggling his eyebrows. “Now, that’s an image I’d love to see.”

“I think I have a pic or two—”

“Nat!”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Alright, alright. Party pooper.” She pokes his shoulder before sauntering away. “C'mon, you big lug.”

Steve trails after her, throwing a backward glance at Tony and Johnny as he goes. They’ve taken residence on a nearby bench, their heads bent together as they murmur to one another. Judging by the blush on Tony’s cheeks and the self-satisfied grin on Johnny’s face, it’s saved to say that they’re flirting.

Again.

From the moment they’ve met, Johnny seems to have taken a shine to Tony, following him around like a lost puppy and flirting with him like there’s no tomorrow. It's bizarre. It's not like Tony's friendship with Reed, which is built on science and research. They barely have anything in common, besides their reputations as ‘playboys’.

Is Johnny actually interested in Tony? Why would Johnny even consider dating Tony? For one, Tony’s way too old for him. Johnny’s in his early, mid-twenties? Sure, Steve’s younger than Tony too but he’s closer in age (and no, his true age doesn’t count).

Plus, Steve’s a master tactician. He has superstrength, superhearing, able to heal quickly. What can Johnny do besides bursting into flames? If Tony wants skywriting written in fire, Tony could just build a machine that could—

A nudge to his head snaps Steve out of his thoughts. He whips behind him, meeting Natasha’s knowing smirk.

Which could only mean one thing.

“My eyes are up here, Cap.”

Steve groans. “Nat—”

“I’m just getting your attention,” she replies, the perfect picture of innocence. “Nothing else.”

The sparring session starts out fine. As usual, Natasha proves to be the perfect sparring partner, easily keeping up with Steve’s stamina and is agile enough to meet his jabs with ease.

But then he hears a familiar giggle behind him and then he loses focus.

Steve blinks, meeting Natasha’s cool gaze as the pain in his side ebbs away. She has an eyebrow raised knowingly.

“Wanna take five?”

“I’m fine,” Steve replies gruffly, raising his fists.

“I could get them to leave—”

“No!”

Natasha’s other eyebrow shoots upwards.

Heat begins creeping up Steve’s neck. “I mean, I—”

“Everything all right there?” Tony calls out from the bench, looking and sounding worried. Next to him, Johnny’s grinning, looking like a cat who just ate a canary.

Steve really, really wants to wipe that smirk off his face.

“I’m good!” he replies. “I mean, we’re good.”

Tony’s frown deepens but thankfully doesn’t seem to pursue the subject.

When Steve and Natasha resume their spar, Steve makes sure to jab harder and dodge faster, to try to win. He knows he’s getting reckless. Sloppy.

But he needs this, needs this distraction. Needs to forget.

And then pain explodes over his face.

Steve doesn’t even register what’s happened until he feels callused but warm hands cupping his face and a voice frantically yelling in his ear.

“—eve! C’mon, buddy. Are you okay? Wh—”

And that’s when he realizes he’s sprawled on the mat, Tony holding his face in his hands.

For a brief moment, he lets himself lean into the touch, bask in Tony’s concern before he meets a pair of azure blue eyes behind Tony.

Immediately, Steve yanks away from Tony’s touch, jumping to his feet.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“It’s definitely not nothing,” Tony retorts, reaching forward again. “Your face is bruising—”

“It’ll heal.”

“Still. At least let us—”

“I said, I’m fine!”

Tony flinches. Johnny’s eyebrows shoot up. Natasha remains impassive.

An invisible lump forms in Steve’s throat. Oh, he definitely fucked up.

Truly, truly fucked up.

“I—I have to go.”

He’s out of the room before anyone could stop him, making a beeline for the elevators because fuck, he fucked up so bad.

Steve needs to get away. Away from Tony and Natasha and Johnny freaking—

“Shit,” he mutters to himself, jabbing at the elevator buttons, whiling, hoping that it’ll come. It better come because goddamn it—

“Steve!”

He doesn’t bother looking over his shoulder, dashing over to the emergency stairs instead.

Thankfully, Tony doesn’t follow.

*****

read the rest on ao3.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Oneshot: Substance - Bucky x Reader

Summary: After stumbling upon certain things on your boyfriends phone, your self-esteem drops below zero.

Warnings: Self-hatred, Angst, Fatshaming, kinda Self-Harm (like withdrawal, not eating enough and overly excessive sport), one or two Swear Words.

Words: ~2900

A/N: Didn’t want to keep you guys waiting any longer, so this has been written in an hour without proof-reading. please have mercy with my soul

“Heya, sweetie-pie. Mind giving me the usual?”

There he was, 12 o’clock as usual. Bucky was leaning over the counter and staring at you with his piercing blue eyes.

He gave you a wink as he shoved the money over the counter, looking around the small but full diner. It was always that crowded at this time of the day.

“Come on, you doofus. You know it’s on me” you chuckled as you pressed the coins back in his hand, relishing at his warmth for a brief second before stepping back.

It has become a ritual to prepare his favourite on almost every single day, even though he claimed to love everything on your menu. His therapist once told him that a certain routine would help him adapt to society again, and he stuck to it pretty closely.

And visiting your restaurant was an important part of his day.

“Do you think we can spend the evening?” Your boyfriend was sipping on his coffee, eyes lighting up when you finally got him his piece of plum pie with whipped cream.

When you watched him eating it in almost one bite, you kind of admired him for being able to eat basically anything without gaining weight. But well, on the other hand, training and fighting were his daily bread, so it was no wonder those calories would be burned like it was nothing.

“Gosh, delicious as always” Bucky mumbled and you couldn’t surpress a quiet laugh at your dork while you were serving another customer. “And I mean you in that dress, not the food. Love your style.”

You usually avoided to fuel his stupid way of flirting, no matter how flattered you felt anyway. So you simply changed the topic. “Dunno. Might get late. Today seems to be very profitable.”

It was just wonderful how understanding Bucky was. Well, he knew he was a piece of work as well. Why should he be mad if you were sucessfull anyway?

So he just shrugged with a wide grin as he handed you over the empty plate, saying “Well, then I’ll tidy up the flat until you’re done. Guess who’s gonna get a back rub when they’re back home?”

“Sounds like a Netflix and Cuddle evening?”

“Everything you want, doll.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, knowing you weren’t all that comfortable with PDA - at least at work. “I won’t bother you any longer.”

“You’re never bothering me.” Smirking, you admired the way his muscles bulged through his sleeveless top. “Distracting is a far better word.”

He won’t comment on your statement, rather winking at you and mumbling something like “You just wait until later...” as he already rushed out of the entrance.

Six hours later you were finally able to end your twelve hour shift and close the restaurant almost on time - well...plus the few customers who came about five minutes before closure, and having to clean up the mess you’d always leave behind when cooking as quick as possible.

“I’m home, darlin’!” you cheered as you threw your bag into a corner and got rid of your shoes.

Seems like he was in the shower, at least he yelled something like ‘having something for you when he’s done’.

Well, if the surprise was something cute or nasty - you’d have no problem with either one.

“Hey, babe!” his voice called you out of the bathroom. “Can you look up when we made the reservation for cinema? I made a screenshot from the booking confirmation.”

He’d always ask for that kind of stuff in the weirdest situations. Probably because he knew he’d forget it otherwise.

“Alright.” His smartphone was placed on the nightstand, as usually. It was a miracle that he learned to use it that quickly, but on the other hand he’d always been very invested with new technology.

The two of you had no secrets. And even if: Taking each others cellphones wouldn’t really tell you something you didn’t already know about each other, so it had never been a no-go to use the others phone.

You sat down on the edge of the bed after throwing your sweat-soaked and stained clothes into the basket, wishing Bucky would hurry up so you could clean up and enjoy some hot water.

Scrolling through his picture folder, you hummed a happy little song, already wondring what you’d do on your day off tomorrow.

James is still pretty awkward in todays society, but hell he knew how to treat a woman. And dates were his speciality.

“I can’t fi-” Your words turned into a loud gasp as you saw the preview image of a seemingly naked woman. Shocked, even though you felt bad for prying instead of trusting your partner, you klicked on it to see the whole picture.

It was exactly what you thought it was. That sort of picture drunk elderly men would send each other in Whatsapp Groups.

A beautiful woman, only wearing a thong and presenting it in a - let’s call it ‘seductive�� pose.

And the worst of all was the headline, floating above the models face:

“The Perfect Woman”

This was not the only pic of some sort - you found a dozen of it, videos as well.

Disgusting was the only thing that came to your mind.

Not the woman, though. You were not one to slut-shame anyway.

But a feeling of disgust came up when you layed down the phone and went to the mirror, watching yourself closely. And for the first time, you were not satisfied with what you were seeing.

Sure, you’ve always been kind of chubby. But up until now you’ve never doubtet your beauty.

Curves were always something beautiful to you, even though you had to admit that some days, you were asking yourself why you had to be the only one of your friends who had that hard cellulite and stretch marks.

Maybe if you’d already have kids or were older, you’d be fine with it, but...

On the other hand, your friends would admire the fact that you had bigger breasts and a ‘peach ass’, as they’d call it.

Your mother used to call it ‘atomar boobs’ and ‘birth-enthusiastic hips’, always making you laugh about how self-ironic she was. But on the inside you knew how much she was struggling as well.

There were so many forms of beauty, and you loved every single one of it - including your own. But now..

“Ugly” you told yourself again and again, while trying to find a suitable pose that didn’t make you look like a small, wobbly piece of fat.

Did the opinion of a man really matter more to you than your own? Now you also felt kind of pathetic.

Actually, you were just hurt. Of him not being honest, and obviously searching for something...you didn’t want to say ‘better’, but rather ‘different’ than you.

As former Winter Soldier, he might not be that popular, but his looks sure did the trick anyway. So why not searching for a thin woman if he loves them so much?

Or does he already know them? What if those were not mere pictures, but woman he actually contacted?

The thought alone made you tear up.

You’ve tried. Your whole life you did and he knew that.

It’s a problem you’ve been struggling for your whole youth, after all.

No matter how much sport or diets you tried out, your body just wouldn’t change. Even after you’ve got diagnosed with hypothyreosis, the medication would only do so much as prevent further weight gain.

Things got a lot easier when you were grown up, and the bullies would decrease.

You learned to love yourself, and realized that many people were into exactly your kind of body-type. After finding your own style and way of living, things became so much easier and you could finally be yourself.

“Heya, there” a familiar voice snickered behind your back, “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

The only reaction Bucky would gain was a pained groan, yet you didn’t dare to make a scene just yet. You wanted him to take the hints and be honest with you, that was what you had decided.

“Didn’t find the picture. Go look yourself.”

With that said, you’d walk straight past him and towards the bathroom. It took you quite a while to cry to your hearts extend, sobs being deafened by the pattering sounds of the shower.

You wrapped a towel around yourself, but when you saw your reflection again as you put on some lotion, you decided to wear the bathrobe.

No matter how you moved, you felt like some fat would always wiggle or roll up somehow - and Bucky felt your discomfort as soon as you greeted him with a twisted face.

“C’mon here, babydoll. We can talk.” He patted the spot right next to him on the bed, and goddamn it was just too unfair how he was posing there on the mattress, looking like a fucking adonis compared to you.

The very second you stiffly layed down next to him, you felt his hand slip under your bathrobe and squeeze your thigh, making you gasp.

“Maybe I can cheer you up otherwise before we talk...” he breathed into your ear, adding a bittersweet “I missed you.”

“Bucky, please. I’m tired.” Perfect. You managed to get that sentence out without your voice cracking once. Now you just needd to turn around and wrap yourself in your comforter before he’d see the tears in your eyes.

You didn’t want him - or anyone else - to touch you ever again.

“O-okay...” James stuttered, already reaching out his hand to touch your shoulder. But in the end, he retreated it, realizing you needed some time for yourself. “Imma be at the sofa if you need me.”

“Or tell me what the fuck is wrong all of a sudden...” He kept himself from saying that.

The following days were the hardest ones yet to come - for both of you.

It all started with you declining all offers from friends to go swimming or visiting some food-places, slowly but steadily withdrawing you from the happy, active life you’ve built up out of anger and shame.

You had grown quite distant as time passed, at first finding any kind of excuse for intimacy, and afterwards not even bearing any kind of physical contact. Not to speak of simple and carefree talking...

The air had become strained around the two of you, but Bucky was too afraid to ask you what was wrong.

Instead of letting off some steam through work as always, you took a few weeks off. It wasn’t like you needed the money anyway, looking at how successfull your work was.

Your restaurant, even though being more of a small diner, had been on the top of New Yorks most popular ones for years. And you were damn proud of it.

Bucky would always say you’re the only one who cooks just like home, and meanwhile you knew all of his favourite dishes.

An unconscious smile ghosted your lips when you thought back to the day where Bucky would go all Winter Soldier on a dude that made fun of you for being “a wandering cliché: a fat woman running a kitchen”. Ouch.

You didn’t go on vacation those days - there was different work to do.

Actually, you liked sports. For fun, that is. Like going to swim with your friends, or going for a walk. Sometimes visiting the gym, even. To you, it was more part of a healthy lifestyle instead of a competition for appreciation.

But now, things were different. You tried to built up your confidence again through secretly visiting the Avengers training rooms - yet to no avail.

Steve kindly offered you help with any certain training, but you declined. This was something you wanted to achieve yourself.

As if that would change anything about your feeling of betrayal...

“Fuck!” you exclaimed after almost falling off the treadmill, having to use the emergency turn-off. Even though many people assumed it, you weren’t really unfit. But those past days, you’ve just overloaded yourself through excessive training and eating almost nothing.

You kneeled down, desperately trying to catch your breath. Looking down, you saw your bruised knuckles from punching the bag earlier and thinking of that damn beautiful woman on Buckys cellphone.

If only you would have the courage to talk this through with him...but you were afraid of the outcome. Of the truth.

Knowing you were all alone on the floor, you finally gave in to your emotions, huddling to a fetal curl and starting to sob over your deadlocked situation.

“Y/N?”

Dear god no - it was Bucky. What was he doing here? It was not his usual training time!

On the other hand: What else did he have to do in his free-time, now that the other Avengers are on a mission and his girlfriend is avoiding him at all costs?

Actually, he wanted to let off some steam as well. But seeing you like this swung his mood in an instant, and he aided you immediately.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?!” There was genuine compassion in his voice, sorrow even. As if it was his fault.

He was kneeling right next to you, and for the first time in two weeks, you wouldn’t flinch at his touch. “Let me help you...”

“You don’t need to play anymore, James” you whimpered, slapping his hand away. “Just get this over with.”

Now you’ve got him mad. “What the fuck did I do wrong to deserve this, Y/N?!” he screamed and his metal fist would meet the floor, cracking it broken.

“I know damn well I’m far from the perfect boyfriend...” Bucky began to sniffle, still clenching and unclenching his fists. “But I thought you’d love me as I am.”

“You’re one to talk.” Fuck it, now that you seemingly screwed up anyway you could talk freely. “I’ve seen the photos, Bucky. Of the perfect woman. Many of them. Seems like you prefer something not remotely close to me.”

For a while, there was only silence.

Bucky dug his face deep into his palms, as if he wanted to disappear in them - or simply to facepalm in a pretty weird way.

“Doll, is that what all this is about?”

His reaction made you feel kinda strange. “Y-yeah.” Did you overreact?

“You know I don’t possibly know her. Don’t care about her or her body either.” He sat there, cross-legged and with a face as dark as your heart had been those past weeks.

“Then why do you keep a ton of photos of naked models on your phone?!” You jumped onto him, effectively knocking him over and pinning him on the floor. Out of a whim, you wanted to run away, but he trapped you in his hold.

“Gosh, why can’t you talk to me for once?” It almost sounded like he found it funny. “You’re usually one to be upfront about everything.”

A sole tear escaped every eye, but Bucky would catch them with his thumb.

“Sam sent them to me. We have that Whatsapp-Group, and he’s simply that single, horny dude that finds that kind of stuff funny. You know I never delete anything. I have over 5000+ photos on that shit phone.”

You were stunned, looking at him in disbelief. “I’m sorry, doll. I should’ve know you’d stumble across them eventually. But you were always so confident and strong, the thought of it bothering you never crossed my mind.”

“Y-you-” Gosh, what a fucking idiot you were. “You’re not at fault, Buck! I’m so sorry! I feel so stupid right now.”

“And I thought you wanted to leave me...” he murmured, mainly to himself.

“Wha- how could I ever?! You’re the love of my life! Why else do you think your opinion matters this much to me? Look where we are right now!”

“And you know that the beauty-standarts of the 40s are exactly what you look like, right?”

The situation changed so drastically, it left both of you in boisterous laughter.

When you finally catched your breath, holding your thummy at how much you laughed, Bucky would not give you a break - rather cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips onto his.

“Look” he breathed out calmly, his cheek barely brushing yours. “I feel stupid for even saying this, but: My girl doesn’t have to be a model. Beauty is a concept, dear. Everyone pictures something else when they think of it. And I think of you.”

You had already snuggled up onto his chest as he swiftly picked you up, your ear able to sense his heartbeat. Absentmindedly running your hand over his prosthetic one, you realized that you were not the only one who was self-conscious about their appearance.

But just like you never doubted the true beauty of your lover, neither did he.

“Y/N...You’re strong and smart and kind. No one had ever touched my heart the way you did. That’s all that counts.”

_______

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[calleo-bricriu]

Me: Has drafts. Also me: Has replies already written in my head. ALSO ME: “Typing is hard...”

In my defense, I’m in the home stretch of closing on a house and have to start actually working out and executing the steps to get all my shit packed up and moved from this place--I still have shit from when we bought the house in 2004 that STILL ISN’T UNPACKED, it’s mostly old computer games and I’ll probably just leave it to be finally trashed, but there’s like 5 huge boxes of it in the closet.

The house in question is an amazing little thing built in 1879 and the most work I’ll have to do on it:

1. Wait for squirrel in the garage soffits to have her babies grow up and leave, then seal the hole.

2. Strip the goddamned white paint off of all the interior wood trim; it’s the original wood trim, there’s a place for parlor doors (though they’re long gone). I just...the original woodwork is gorgeous, the exterior facing parts of the doors still have it, they’d a deep mahogany with wonderful grain. They’re the original doors from 1879 that have just been fitted with more modern deadbolts but still have the original knobs with skeleton key holes (long since blocked off because security).

3. P A I N T. I hate neutrals. I hate neutrals and, of course, when people flip a house they try to paint it in neutrals so it has a broader appeal and so potential buyers can more easily see their stuff in there, but the only thing worse than rental beige is rental tan. Gotta get some damn color in there. It might not be a big old Victorian house but it’s a Victorian house. The interior and exterior should be as obnoxiously bright as possible.

4. Get the roof redone because I know I have the money for it not, I don’t know that I’ll have it in 5-7 years.

5. Consider residing; it has white vinyl, and vinyl can be painted but it doesn’t last terribly long. Might just have it painted though. I don’t want a boring ass white house when the big rental next door is bright blue. Another roof situation, I have the money now.

6. Fix the garage door opener; it works but the chain is off the track so it doesn’t actually lift the door. 7. Probably replace the furnace and water heater; there’s nothing wrong with them but they are  from 1996, and new ones would be way more efficient.

8. Uh...furniture. All I’m taking with me is the stuff in my office and the bed I sleep in. Probably gonna need more than that.

9. Make the call on whether I want to have an electrician put in 220 volt stuff for an electric dryer or be okay with using the as feed up to that little room. Probably will just use the gas feed as it’s there. Discovered the unplugged thing on the floor in that room goes to underfloor heating meant to be used in the winter as it’s just a 3 season porch so it gets cold.

10. Be forever amazed that the original electrical wiring is still present (though largely spliced into modern wiring save for the light coming down from the ceiling in the closet--you can see the original, still insulated cord clearly--and into dining room which will be probably filled with reptiles, AND that it works and has been inspected by an actual electrician and deemed safe. 100amp breaker, but that’s not so bad, it’s a 150 breaker here and nothing ever blows.

11. ...smoke alarms and a CO alarm, as there are none, which is fine, nobody has been living there for the two-ish years the guy was rennovating it.

12. Fix the one glass pane that’s missing in the bedroom; storm window is still present and not broken/cracked but one really should have double panes windows here.

13. Oh yeah, and curtains.

14. Getting the second door that’s painted shut opened back up, the stupid white paint stripped form it, and getting a modern deadbolt put in so it’s a usable, safe door to be able to open. It’s the side door to what was the parlor and is now the living room.

15. Possibly look at where the parlor door was after having the paint stripped and see if the pockets are still present; if they are, see about getting replica doors to match the existing ones put in. Who wouldn’t want to be able to dramatically open parlor doors or tell someone to step into their parlor?

Now you get pics I took while I was there for the home inspection!

The new LED lightbulb put into a fixture from 1879:

Big kitchen, fuckton of storage, two flour bins by the stove; I love flour bins, the house I grew up in had them as did my grandparents’ houses. As long as you clean them out thoroughly when they’re empty they’re great!

📷

The exterior of the side parlor door that's painted shut.

The front door (the interior side is painted white). Original knob and skeleton key lock from when the house was built.

This house survived being a cheap, rundown student rental for nearly 40 years and it still has so much of its original stuff.

The stairs to the basement and crawlspace that looks like something out of a horror movie, so naturally I love it.

This is directly inside the crawlspace. It's absolutely perfect for storing potatoes, root vegetables, and squash--and for putting jars of stuff to ferment. It's a good 10 degrees colder than the rest of the area and is meant to be used for exactly what I just mentioned. I love that it's still there.

Also here's the entrance to the crawlspace.

...and the crawlspace. The tiny 'basement' is just a room with a few shelves I need to replace as they were using untreated plywood in the metal frame and most of it is moldy or starting to rot because untreated. Otherwise all that's in there is the furnace and water heater. The furnace has some open drain ports and I may put a humidifier down there to run 24/7 because it is, as most basements that aren't fully finished around here, a bit damp.

TL;DR: I may be largely MIA or not as quick to respond as I usually am because I’ll be legit running around like a lunatic moving all my stuff, setting up my new old house (MINE, ONLY MINE, no ex, no other people, JUST. ME. I loved living alone before I got married, and always thought I’d be happier still living alone even while married, which may be a sign that it was a bad decision, but I really just like living alone with a bunch of animals.

Also I've never seen a house that has an attic only accessible from the outside and using a ladder but that's what we have here; there's a big panel that I thought was just a vent that's really a...door.

The back yard is huge, already fenced, has a fire pit, has no fucking grass either, it's all native wild plants with some grape vines in a few areas; big mature ones too.

The front yard also has no grass, which, again, great, I'd planned to tear out any lawn at the house I got anyway. Front yard is still a bit bare so I may just coat it with clover. The only thing I'll have to mow is the boulevard and I can do that with a manual mower or be the extra strange neighbor and use a scythe--and yes I have one, I took it from my grandpa's barn after he died. They also planted a ton of ferns in the front yard for some reason, but I like ferns so they can stay. Oh and there's an entire workshop behind the garage which means I still will have an inside place to keep making wands.

[madmadmilk]

One After The One PART 1 | Tom Holland x Reader

Tinder BIO | soft TEASER | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | >>

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: What does one in a million even mean? Does it mean you’re the first of many or the fucking last? Does it mean that you’re somewhere in the middle? And what happens to the poor baby who ends up being the 999,999th one? Or worse, the one after The One? There ought to be some kind of prize for second to last, and second runner up. Especially when being #2 is your specific talent.

Warnings: Cursing, Suspicion, some Hard to Swallow Pills, and a million blurry pics

Word Count: 6.7K swipes left

Special Shoutout: Thank you @hypnotized-so-mesmerized for being a BETA for this chapter and for you lovely input!

-

“I can’t fucking believe you’ve got me fifth wheeling for this….” you sigh, as you blow strands of your hair away from your face. You walk briskly atop of the shifting sand behind your leggy friend.

All 5 foot 10 inches of her shakes with laughter as she watches you trip over yourself. She shrugs, “The more the merrier?”

You roll your eyes, resigning to a smile as she waves back for your hand to hold. You reach out and accept her offer loosely, allowing yourself to be pulled along.

“Come on, the boys are waiting.”

Right.

You watch the festival lights cast a warm glow at the edges of her silhouette. She smiles at you, bronzed, beautiful–– taken.

Over the past year, all your best friends started fucking dating each other.

Leaving you single, alone, and second best.

It wasn’t weird, it wasn’t unnatural–– but it quite literally happened over night. “This” is just your “new normal.”

You all still hung out, together, mismatched or separately. Nothing has stopped them from asking you to hang out, but there are times where you feel… The Line.

It was Common Sense tingling and telling you that certain occasions were more of a “date-night” rather than friendly get together. And the last thing you wanted to be was a cockblock to your own goddamn friends.

Like tonight, you were tagging along to the late-night-end-of-the-summer beach bar hop bash, with your two pairs of your closest friends. Sam and Ry, short for Ryan. And Liza and K, short for Erik.

Then there’s you, of course.

The three boys were waiting with drinks in hand, while you and Liza took your sweet time climbing the sandy stairs. This was the usual ritual, but you stood alone when you reached the guys. They paired off, easily, naturally, sweetly.

The vibrating radio-centric music drowned out the sounds of the lapping ocean, the conversation you walked into was near unintelligible, and the crowd was excited about something.

God, I wish that were me.

There wasn’t anything wrong with going to this year’s beach bash, as you go to it as a group every year–– it’s just that this time they were holding hands and you were holding a drink. It’s more sour than you’d like.

You were fine coming out “alone,” but who wants to be alone?

You greet one another with warm hugs and Liza immediately dives into a rant about officially moving in with K, and about how he doesn’t wanna mix his laundry with hers–– all those new domestic nuances. 

Sam rolls his eyes and exclaims, “Ry is the same fucking way–– like, it’s just cloth, babe.”

“Easy for you to say when all you wear is black––“ Ry retorts, pushing his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

Everyone starts with a snickering laugh, clinking beer bottles and recanting similar experiences.

Tonight you just don’t feel like it.

Living alone and sleeping alone is one of your specific talents. It’s been nice to have your own fucking bed, your own fucking room, your own fucking space–– all of it to just BE your own fucking self, by your fucking self. You’ve been this way for twenty-odd years now (kind of, you know what i mean). Love and friends are welcome to hang out, but at the end of the day, the place is all yours. And yours alone. That’s what home means to you.

“–– But living together hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be,” Liza smacks her lips, looking down in short embarrassment. She leans back against K, “There are good things too.”

Sam is quick to point out their PDA, and you take another sip of your drink. You would have spoken up to contribute about your own experiences, once upon a time. But that’s a sore topic you’re not willing to relive on this breezy night.

Instead, you laugh along, crossing your arms while propping your elbow on the bar. You’ll let tonight be as rosy as it can be with no time to dwell. Your drink is near empty, consumed faster than you remember. Someone taps your shoulder.

“Hey.”

You blink dryly, resurfacing. “Hm?”

K is rubbing the side of your arm, those hazel eyes darkened in the low light. His dark brows were raised high, “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course,” you answer easily. You hold up your drink, making a smug face and down it to his bemusement. You shake the empty bottle, setting it back on the table. “Always good.”

He nods slowly, looking over at the other three still gossiping amongst themselves. You couldn’t hear their conversation, but you can only imagining Sam and Liza were poking at each other by the way that Ry was smiling.

K swings his head back to you, “Wanna dance?”

“Sure.”

And you follow him, aware that, no, he didn’t want to dance. He wanted to talk.

You walk away with him, unnoticed by the others and tracing your finger across a brick wall. He stops, leaning against it and you do too. Looking over him, neat clothes and nervous face, you raise a brow.

“Sorry––“ he starts slowly, scratching the back of his neck.

“For what?” You laugh, scrunching your brows as you nod your head to the muffled music.

“This. It’s weird, right? Us. All of us, dating. That last year we were the ones single and you were––“ he sighs, pulling his lip to the side, “Last year was totally different. And now we’re all here, still together. Together-together.”

“Mhm, it was going to happen sooner or later,” you muse. K has loved Liza since Day One. And you and him have both known it, and what it means to him now. His dreams become reality every second that passes.

“Shut up,” he swats at your arm. You see the curl of his smile behind the embarrassment, “Nah. No. But this must be awkward for you, huh?”

You shrug. “Little bit. I’ll get over it, you guys are still my friends.”

His eyes search yours for the real truth. They were all so worried that them coupling up would ruin something, between themselves and with you. Ha. You told they they were stupid for thinking that. You believe in seizing the opportunities, in taking leaps and following your partner around the world–– in theory, at least.

They confided in you individually and you told them all the same thing. Tailored to their personalities, but in the same conceptual vein. 

“If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, then at least you tried and you don't have to spend another day wondering ‘what if..?’”

And they bought it. Now, that being said, you already knew that they all fucking liked each other so–– push her and push him and push him and him, and things will fall into place.

It’s just that… the new thing is that you’re the one out out of the loop. You used to be the first to know but now you’re last to find out. And that is strange.

You’re not their number 1 anymore. And there’s nothing you can say about it.

“You’re still my best friend, got it?” K leans his shoulder on yours and you rest yourself against him too. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Today, but not tomorrow.

It’s hard not to be bitter, and it’s horrible that there’s no remedy for it. FOMO is a new-age disease, after all. No science to sort it out yet, no justification to satiate it.

“So…. You talkin’ to anyone? Looking?” He asks too casually for a question he knew you hated. He bumps elbows with you and shake along with it.

“Nope,” your mouth pops at the “p.” 

He raises his brows again, and argh you hate that. There was always someone you were talking to, or someone you’ve been with. But not these days. These days you felt too tired to be someone’s ideal anything. 

“There are some cute guys around, looking at you,” his eyes twinkle a little too brightly for a straight guy with horrible taste. (Facts backed up by Sam, Ry, Liza, AND personal experience) “Plenty of fish, yeah?”

You shake your head, not interested. Sex could come and go, infatuation could come and go–– but you’re kinda tired of the short stuff.  But not exactly ready for a whole-ass relationship either. You don’t need to explain yourself–– you just know you wouldn’t last the night.

“Not in the mood,” you huff.

“Tonight,” he says suggestively, wiggling his shoulders.

You both laugh, you a little bit dryly. You try to direct his attention back to Liza and their budding romance, as the trio finds you guys again. At first they didn’t immediately stand coupled, Ry handing you a drink and Sam going to talk to K. Liza smoothed out her clothes and you all talked about some new plans. It was an honest good time. Ry spilled his drink on Sam, and complained about the laundry again–– Liza got waaaay too drunk and you and K were holding her in your arms while she staggered like Bambi.

It was nice and warm, and a lot like old times. 

I missed that.

You felt yourself smile and let loose–– not thinking of old ex’s or new flings. Just about the friends before you and how safe they made you feel, and how happy you are to see them happy. That’s love, right?

“Oh my god, look!” someone exclaimed, pointing a finger at the sky. You hear a loud clap.

As the night faded and grew colder, fireworks erupted into the sky with a loud crackle. You guys squealed and ran to the top of a sand dune, tripping and tumbling to see the dying summer sights. The fizzing calmed your calls. It’s funny how loud fiery skies filled you with the same awe every time. How it quieted you and made you feel small.

The couples soon held each other, soft embraces with their necks craned upwards. Their eyes twinkled from bursts of lights, smiling at the sharp crackles of sound.

Tonight was the one of many nights they would be able to spend in each other’s arms, so far away and close to you all at once.

This was the line you were cautious about–– you couldn’t talk to them when they were like this, out of courtesy. Out of honoring their moment.

You stood back, watching their excited faces instead of the bursting sky. You felt it. Not jealousy or bitterness, but the awful choke of curiousity and selfishness. The “what if that were me?”

It’s been a while since you’ve had arms wrap over your shoulders and kissed your hair. Enough time has passed for you to forget what that felt like. Too long? What was that like again?

The finale of fireworks struck across the inky, dark sky. You inhaled the smell of chalky smoke, tasting the salt in the air.  Lights and colors fill your eyes, unblinking.

You suck in your cheeks as it quiets and you can hear the ocean again. 

And you let yourself think, I want that again.

So with a new pulse, you went home and did the only logical thing in finding the next Love of Your Life.

You downloaded Tinder.

-

You avoided “serious” dating and being a “serious” anything to anyone, but seeing that “seriousness” in your friends made you wonder if you could be anything like them. If you were ready to open your heart to the possibility of loving and being loved.

Seriously. Sincerely. No bullshit.

This time.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you messed around setting up a profile on Tinder. Regretfully spending way too long shuffling through old selfies that were engaging and enticing. You sigh as you pick through the lot, frustrated at the mind games that have already started.

It’s tiring.

And that’s probably why you end up cracking a few days later and end up telling Sam and Ryan. It was a short two word text, “Tinder. Help?” And you got a speedy reply from both of them (even when you knew they were most likely sat right next to each other). They were at your place in less than an hour.

Sam applauds your efforts, but is only there for moral support more or less. He’s an ace at the dating game, but has no patience to explain his ways. 

“Typical,” You and Ry hum, as Sam rifles through your pantry instead.

Ryan, quiet as he is, sat with you and looked through the photos you choose. He broke down the psychology of it all; about the aloofness and whatever–– which you understood. You need to try hard, but not look like you are. Effortlessness, funny, chic, digestible, likeable–– 

“Performative.” He says flatly, “But this is fast and simple.”

And you have to agree, looking at your phone in his hands.

You blink as you reflect.

This is so much easier in fiction, in those movies where people go on a million dates in one week and match with the hottest fucking dudes ever. Where the protagonist has the perfect amount of self-confidence to keep her moving forward, endless chances to mess up and and still get the guy… God, it’s so easy on paper. There’s no dignity to lose. But here? In the “real” world, even on an app you could delete at anytime–– to put yourself out there? Mortifying.

But, at least you’re bored enough to try.

So, what the fuck, right?

“Did you tell Liza and K yet?” 

“No, they would definitely try to set me up with someone real,” you laugh, leaning back on the couch. You wriggle your toes and tilt your head away.

Ry leans back with you with a brow raised, “Isn’t that… the point?”

Yeah, like, true. They have lots of friends they’re always trying to peddle your way, which is cool and all but… it’s a lot harder to pick and choose and ghost someone when you have mutual contacts.

He read the look on your face and nodded slowly, “Got it, got it.” He laughed to himself, perceptive and cautious. He extends his thoughts, “But you gotta tell us if you actually go and meet anyone. K would kill us if you didn’t say anything.”

“I won’t get into any trouble,” you squint, looking away from him mischievously.

“Uh-huh,” Ry affirms plainly as he swipes right on a few cute boys. 

-

Your experience with dating apps was limited–– you made a joke account a while ago and never really did much with it. Then you had a more “real” account that you never tried sincerely with. You had real people you dated at the time–– uhm. But now, now that you’re actually on here looking… it is bleak.

It’s a Saturday night and you’re winding down with a glass of wine swiping through your options. People you actually knew showed up, and you swiped that shit away so fast you almost chucked your phone with it. You flipped through people who looked fake for real, some older dudes, and plenty of people with vibes you didn’t like–– the pool is so wide you almost didn’t know where to start. And you could afford to be picky, sure. It’s just, who knew that “too many options” would actually be a problem.

You spend the next few days idling checking and chatting, not getting any viable catches. You felt like you were just peering into small windows, head in and head out. Nothing caught your attention long enough for you to want to look in further.

You even start poking at things you never wanted to acknowledge as real, like the impact of cheesy bios, and deciphering who was who in group pics, and the thrilling amount of dudes holding up fish.

Pretty wack.

You felt yourself grow tired of it again. The adrenaline was waning, burnt to the stump. Good thing you didn’t try too hard. Pfft.

You sleepily swipe away on your phone, too late into the night. You blink hard as you snuggle into your covers, muttering, 

“Just one more.”

Ah.

>>  check out the whole bio here <<

“T, 23. Friendly, neighborhood romantic,” you whisper to yourself. You crack a small smile.

After countless swipes left, and (1) accidental swipe right, you match with a blurry boy–– super sus, I know. You don’t know how it happened tbh–– there’s nothing to “look” at, but your eyes fell on this one. Maybe because you just watched “Far From Home,” and enjoyed this spidey reference. Or you’re just innately drawn to the word “romantic.” Could be either, easily.

“It’s a match!”

Shit. You mumble, your profile photos floating together. You take a second to look through his meager collection. They were all obscure and blurry and not exactly in the artsy way.

You couldn’t decipher much, only that he had fair skin (?), with dark hair and dark eyes, but even that was questionable. 

You’re pretty sure you matched with a bot or some old dude, or worse, a kid. You can hardly see his face in the pictures, blurry or cropped or covered.

Okay...

Is that his real name? Probably not. Is he actually 23? Doubt it. Is this going to go anywhere? Let’s hope not.

But whatever, it’s the first “match” that has seemed interesting in the past few days, solely on your pickiness. And this random bastards only gets you out of dumb luck.

You rub your eyes, and set down your phone, resigning to your stupidity.

You’ll deal with it in the morning.

Good night.

And the gears were set in motion as you slept.

You had a new message on tinder waiting for you, but you didn’t check the app until much later. You go through your Sunday morning routine, only opening your phone after a light breakfast and stretch. 

“Oh god,” you blink as you catch the red notification. You look around the room, preparing yourself for what could be anything. You take a deep breath and open the chat.

T: Hey

Oh. You stare at it, so bare with no personality to pick at. You wonder if you should even reply, but by the grips of boredom, you do.

You: Hey!

You set your phone down, trying to swallow the short thrill. You walk away for a moment. A reply comes within minutes.

And it’s a goddamn mess.

T: Sorry, i’ve never done this before.

Strike one. You suck in your cheeks. While you’re fairly new at this too, you… don’t know how much time you want to invest it in. Here again, you debate replying back–– but he beats you to it.

T: I’m trying to get over my ex

UHM? Strike two, you almost have to laugh. This is just testing your patience. Your jaw wriggles as you see he has more to say…

T: And you look a lot like her.

Damn. Strike three, he’s out. He’s got to know that would put anyone off, right? Why would you even admit that straight out? T? Come on, man.

You: i’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.

T: it’s an apology now, i didn’t know what to say

You: you could have complimented my killer smile or the pic of me with a dog. Anything but that

T: Right, right. I’m such a dickhead. Sorry, it’s nice to meet you though.

You hold your phone away, debating whether or not you should just delete the entire goddamn thing because this was just too stupid–– but it’s Sunday morning and what do you have left to lose. 

You chew on the side of your lip, deciding to entertain “T,” but don’t spare him any soft words. You’d rather get straight to the point.

You: So… you go by “T?” And don’t have any real pics of your face? Are you even real???

T: Yeah, just private

You: kinda defeats the purpose of putting yourself out there though, right? Lol

T: It’s too easy if i put my face out there

You: oh, ha ha ha. So you’re saying you’re too hot to show your face? Love the confidence dude

And this is where you start actually laughing out loud. You wipe away tears at the side of your eyes, cackling at this display of internet confidence. It’s a tiny piece of amusement from a stranger you have 0 feelings for, and you’re not going to be mean to him… but you’ll definitely poke fun to see how far you can get.

Besides, he’s still replying back right? That’s almost hilarious in itself.

T: Hey, confidence is sexy, right?

You: yeah, more in person than online! 😂 (Laughing emoji)

You take a second to scroll back through his photos, and check to see if he has a link to instagram, twitter, anything. But he doesn’t. You try to pull up any evidence you can–– and at the very least, these blurry pics all look like they’re taken of the same person.

Slight build with dark curled hair–– rippable from any ambiguous online “hot boy” mood board though. 

You’re wary.

You spot a picture with his smile, crinkled eye and lifted lip. You could swear he looked familiar… but maybe that’s because you’ve seen that same white boy/model on Pinterest.

Maybe.

T: wanna meet up and see for yourself?

You: maybe if you show me your face first

T: can’t do that quite yet, but I’d love to keep talking to you

You furrow your brows as you read his words. He would be down to meeting up with you upfront, but hesitates to send you a picture beforehand? That’s definitely a red flag, right? Right?

(Yes. Yes it is.)

You pull yourself back and let out a deep sigh. You’re probably the only person he’s talking to, especially with those purposeful (?) blurry pics and cryptic everything. Ugh.

It’s not playing yourself if you know it’s fake right? You can step out of this at anytime.

You: as long as you can hold my attention :) 

T: I’ll try my very best ✌🏼 (peace sign emoji)

–– and with some very, very loose banter…. you end up exchanging numbers. You’ve put the whole Tinder thing on pause for now–– all four days of it. All for one stranger with no tact.

Unknown Number: hey, this is t (smiley face)

You: pfffft, I’m going to call you Blurry Boy. Since your name obviously isn’t T

BB: that’s fine with me :) mind if i call you darling?

You: ew

BB: o come on. It’s cute

You: please tell me you’re actually 23 or i swear to god I’m going to fucking lose it

BB: I swear 🤞🏼 (fingers crossed emoji)

You: ok. Prove it. Send me a pic of you–– you face or whatever

Ok. That’s a leap. He could rip a picture from anywhere but let’s see how fast he could do it. If it takes too long, then he probably did just rip it from the internet.

And if he makes a mistake and actually sends you a clear pic of himself? Well, that could only be seen as a win.

BB: 

But you are ruthless.

You: ok. Send me another one.

And he could stop if he wanted to.

Only, he doesn’t. In a short moment, he sends another picture.

BB:

Same room, same face, same glasses. I guess you could believe him… for now. No matter how shitty the photos have end up....

But he could also be one of those people with folders full of stock photos… you never know.

But putting paranoia aside, you decide to turn off the heat a lil. You grab your coffee and sit on your couch, sliding into a comfy position. You turn on some YouTube videos on your laptop, watching the first few seconds as you lean your cheek against the couch cushions.

Phew.

You: thanks…. sorry I’m so paranoid. But you truly have the worst pictures of yourself put up there. Potato quality.

BB: nah, i know. I get it. Haha it’s alright, a pretty girl like you needs to protect herself

You: oh BOY that doesn’t make me feel any better 😂(laughing emoji)

BB: fuck, sorry. Ugh that is fuckin creepy. Shit. I’m terrible at texting

You: no, no. It’s alright. Actually, great job with taking those photos so fast. Most people would have taken sooooo much longer. You get a few points for not holding back

BB: babe, i told you. I’m gorgeous. I don’t gotta worry about it 😂😂💕 (laughing emojis)

You: right, right blurry boy. Great job with all those fuzzy ass photos.  🙄 (Eye roll emoji) haha are you really looking for someone out here or…?

BB: sort of. I’m testing out the waters and… you’re really pretty

You have to blink back and roll your eye, you’re unable to digest this conversation as real. They’re flowery words given to you, for sure, but your suspicion is much stronger. Your guard will not let down or be appeased by some blurry ass dude calling you “pretty.”

He replies before you have the chance.

BB: i dont wanna get into the messy details but yeah. Company sounds great right about now

You: yeah, i feel that

It’s a real and valid reply, but it’s a terrible one. It’s so hard for someone to reply back to that–– but you’re testing his perseverance. If he finds something to say back, it might just prove one more thing to you. That he might actually be interested, and someone worth talking to.

BB: sorry i lead with my baggage, I’m a fucking mess

You: *a confident fucking mess

BB: thank you 😇 (angel emoji)

You: don’t worry about it, I’ve seen worse

 You laugh darkly to yourself. I’ve been worse.

BB: hahahaha thanks. Ok. But all that aside… real talk now. Can I ask you about the dog in your photo now?

You hate to admit that your lips curled into a smile, as you hastily type back. 

Your coffee was half drank and cold by now. The YouTube video you were supposed to be watching has moved onto part two. 

You eyes are still scanning your text screen, waiting to see those three bouncing dots at the bottom left hand corner. 

He’s not the worst–– and at most, even if this turns out to be fake, this is just your Sunday morning entertainment. Nothing more and nothing less. These are just insignificant texts that will probably lead to a few lost days, or mediocre sex at best.

So, whatever, right?

-

MONDAY MORNING

BB: good morning! ☀️ (sun emoji)

You: well you sure get up early. Good morning 

BB: Haha, I like to start the week as soon as i can. Do you drink coffee or tea in the morning?

You: coffee most days. You?

BB: i drink tea, darling

You: yeah that’s probably better for you haha. Less expensive too.

BB: mhm, definitely cheaper if you come over and i make you a cup

You: wow, the flirting starts the second the sun is up, huh?

BB: what, still too early? 

You: never too early

BB: do you brew the coffee yourself?

You: some mornings. I usually pop into XX Cafe midday if i can.

BB: catch you there? 😂 (laughing emoji) nah, i’ll have to check the place out. I don’t know this area too well.

You: i guess if you can find me! I’m usually in and out pretty fast. Got places to be you know? Hm, did you just move here?

BB: yeah, i got settled in about a week ago

You: staying long?

BB: long enough

You: oh ha ha. Seriously not suspicious at all

BB: yeah I’m in town for a month or two. I’m getting away from work and stress for a minute

You: and you chose here?

BB: quiet enough for me. 😌 (smiley face) and you’re here so that’s a plus

You: relentless

BB: and nothing less.

-

MONDAY EVENING

BB: you haven’t seen that series? You’re crazy

You: whaaat! It’s not my thing. AND i don’t have time for it

BB: it’s a masterpiece, come on! Who doesn’t like laughing? It’s funny! You’ll like it

You: you’re gonna owe me a drink if don’t like it

BB: I’ll gladly buy you one right now if that’s what it takes to get you to watch it

You: ugh, i guess if you recommend it i can tryyyy…

BB: you won’t regret it!

You: ugh you are so annoying. What are you up to right now?

BB: reading emails and talking to you

You: haha what’s so important that you’re reading an email at like 11. Gotta turn on that “do not disturb” dude

BB: I can’t mute the work stuff, unfortunately

You: so if i called you over tonight you wouldn’t be able to? “Because of work?”

BB: you serious? I’m only taking serious offers right now

You: No! It’s monday. Can’t indulge you that early in the week

BB:  what a shame. I’d drop it in a heartbeat for you

You: Nice to know 

BB: I’ve got a feeling that I shouldn’t have told you that (laughing emoji)

You:  😈 (devil emoji)

-

TUESDAY MORNING

BB: good morning!

You: hey! I remembered I had some tea back at my apartment so… just wanted to let you know you had an impact on my day 🙄😊 (eye roll emoji and smiley face emoji)

BB: I could still make a better cup for you 😘 (kissy face emoji)

You: right. What do you have planned today?

BB: hmm, I’m heading out to the gym. Then I might explore the city a bit. Bump into me?

You: well, I don’t know if I could recognize you even if i wanted to

BB: you’ll recognize me

You: haha, okay? Wait, do I know you? –– if this is a prank… 

BB: it’s not! 

You: .. that wouldn’t be cool.

BB: it’s not a prank! There’s just a lot of things I can’t tell you just yet. It’d be a lot easier if we were able to meet up in person.

You: why?

BB: I’m pretty private. It’s really hard for me to just… share certain things with you. But I want to! SO badly! I just can’t send you a whole picture of my face. It’s complicated.

You: Sorry? I don’t get it.

BB: Ahhhh. This is going to sound so bad. I trust you, like as a person. But also I can’t trust you. If you meet me–– you’ll understand why. I’m sorry. 

You: Okay…? And you have to understand that this sounds absolutely batshit to me, right? Like it’s pretty hard to trust you like this. 

BB: yeah I know. I’m sorry. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me. But honestly, it’s nice to be able to talk to you like this and I hope we can continue to chat. I really do like you.

You: … That is really unfair.

BB: I know! I’m sorry. Give me another day or two–– i have a few things to figure out but, I SWEAR i’m not lying to you. I promise it’ll make sense soon

You: well, if you promise you’re not a creep….

BB: I’m not!

You: and that you’re not using me as a replacement for your ex

BB: I won’t!

You: you are SO lucky i’m patient

BB: and kind. And beautiful. And amazing.

You: you’re pushing it, blurry boy. I just need you to realize how unfair this is.

BB: I do. And I know. I’m sorry.

You: what are you looking for here? With me or with anyone you would have met from the app?

BB: a home away from home

You: yeah i read that in your bio. What does that mean?

BB: I’m looking for someone I can spend time with and trust with my whole heart

You: ha ha

BB: I’m serious. It’s hard to find.

You: you’re a real romantic, that’s for sure

-

TUESDAY EVENING

You: you have a DOG and you didn’t tell me?

BB: what, you’re not interested in the fact that I have younger twin brothers and another 8 years younger than me? ‘Always about Tessa

You: obviously! Send a pic!

BB: 

You: is this from right now?

BB: nah, something I took ages ago. I had to leave her back home with my family.

You: aww, that’s too bad.

BB:  would you come over if she were here?

You: Duh! And I guess you’d have to make me a cup.

BB: sounds lovely. Let’s make it a date

You: ha ha. You miss home?

BB: More than you know. I travel A LOT

You: well, call back often! They would be happy to know you miss them! Loneliness is not a great feeling.

BB: I do, all the time! And definitely not a good feeling. So, it’s really nice to talk to you. Thank you.

You: Sorry, I’m not a very great conversational partner. But still happy to hear that

BB: You are. You’re still here

You: You are too.

BB: You already mean a lot to me

You: Have you been in many relationships? (Or hookups idk)

BB: No, and not really. I’ve only been in a handful of long-term relationships

You: Interesting

BB: What?

You: Just wondering if you are really catching feelings for me

BB: Guilty. You?

You: I don’t think I know enough about you to catch anything. No offense 😬😅(cringe emoji, laughing emoji)

BB: Ha, no. I meant if you’ve been in many relationships?

You: Oh! Sorry. A few of either. Did long-term once. Didn’t work out, obviously–– so here I am. That’s that.

BB: Guess we both have a past to bury

You: Please don’t say anything about “burying yourself into my pussy to feel better”

BB: WHAT. I wasn’t even thinking about that. That’s all you 👀

You: Hey, you’ve been pretty quick all the other times, bud.

BB: If I tell you I want more than just sex, does that make you feel better?

You: It makes me think about the fact that you still want to have sex with me

BB: And I can’t deny that 😊 (smiley blushy face emoji)

-

WEDNESDAY MORNING:

BB: Good morning!

You: Morning! Little later than usual–– sleeping in?

BB: Yeah, since I can afford to. You replied quicker than usual. Were you waiting for me? 😉 (wink emoji)

You: Haha, you wish. I was already on my phone, stud.

BB: Right, right. I can tell you like to play hard to get

You: No I don’t!

BB: 😂 (laughing emoji)

You: I don’t!

BB: Wow, feels great to finally have something to hold over you 

You: I hate you 🙄 (eye roll emoji)

BB: Have a nice day, love 😊🌈(smiley face, rainbow emoji)

-

PING! 

“BB? Who is bb?” Liza asks you on Wednesday evening after seeing a notification pop up on your phone. She grabs it off the sticky cafe table and looks at you with her pretty head tilted.

Oh––

You wiggle your jaw, and raise your brows,

 “No one important.” 

You take your phone back and open the message discreetly. It’s nothing special, you’re sure, but you have to look.

BB: so have you seen the last episode yet????? Hello??

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone!” She pleads, putting down the drink in her hands. You were at the mall, idly walking and taking a short break. She looks at you pointedly, eyes darting around your face for any spot of weakness, as she quietly whines, “You didn’t tell us anything about this…”

“It’s because I’m not––”  You offer, nodding. You flip your phone upside down as the message lights up again. “–– seeing anyone.”

She gives you a squinted look of total disbelief.

You’ve been messaging “Blurry Boy” nonstop for the past few days. First you talked about nothing, and now you’re asking each other about how your day was going and what you’re doing now, and what you’re doing later. 

You always find something. Your phone is constantly by your side, sound on.

And there’s a layer of real time now, now that you’ve gotten to know him and his schedule better.

You learn that he has his own cute dog name Tessa and that his family fosters dogs back home, and that he’s the oldest, with twin brothers and a younger one he’s been trying desperately to relate to. You find out that his favorite color is black and that he’s in deep shit for stealing his best friend’s fav hoodie. All of this makes him feel like someone you know, someone you could call a friend.

He feels like more than just some guy you’ve talked to waaaay too long from Tinder.

And what’s worse, is that he knows certain things about you too. He knows that you don’t like sleeping in the dark and that you’re borderline addicted to iced coffee. That you like rewatching old romcoms and classic spooky movies… That your back hurts from work and that you have a fucking dentist appointment on Thursday. 

You know a lot more about each other than less. And that’s kinda really fucking weird.

“You’re always smiling at your phone,” Liza says flatly, picking her drink back up to take a long and loud sip. Major side-eye. “‘Fess up.”

“No, I’m not!” You say through your teeth, trying to not smile. But under her stare you melt and crack under pressure.

You keep telling yourself that you’ll stop replying–– that he’s super sus and this isn’t going anywhere. But… you just keep texting him back.

“It’s nothing, seriously.”

“Let me see,” she pouts. “Pleeeease.” She flaps her hands at you, wriggling her fingers.

“No!”

Even though you know that it’s a losing game with her, you try to put up a fight, turning away and holding your phone tightly. You have onlookers now from the squealing, kicking and creaking chairs.

You give in after a minute.

You hand your phone in defeat as you readjust yourselves. You clear your throat.

“Okay, okay. But this is like, not serious at all, okay.” You rationalize as you show her the pictures you had screenshot and saved from him. “I barely know him.”

Barely! You’ve chanted that in your head over and over. Not enough to know if you want to get to know him, or what to drop him. That’s the purgatory you’ve been living in.

Liza is uncharacteristically quiet as she scrolls up and down the chats and flips through the pictures. Her hair covers whatever expression she’s making.

That makes you nervous, and you start babbling.

“Yeah, I mean. I don’t think he’s real or anything–– It’s just for fun and it’s whatever. I don’t even care.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

She freezes on a picture of him. The one where you can see a part of his smile and a crinkled eye. She zooms in and pauses again.

?

“Babe?” Her voice is cautious and slow. God. You don’t want to hear what she has to say next with this tone of voice…

“Hm?” You attempt to perk up, hiding the fact that you just gulped with nerves. It feels like you’re holding something sour in your mouth.

I don’t like this...

“So, he seems like a super nice guy and all but…” She speaks gingerly and wide eyed.

“But what?” You feel yourself recoil. 

As much as you talk a big game… it would still hurt to have this illusion shattered. This self-inflicted fantasy. You don’t want her to keep going. 

But you can guess what’s coming next.

...

“I… I think he’s using pictures of Tom Holland.”

…

…

…

Wait…...

What?!

-

A.N: WAH! she’s back!! well, as much as she can be. haha i know i have a million things always running at the same time but... i really will just ride the wave of inspiration as it comes.... that’s all i can do. anyway, hope you like this series! it’s going to be an exploration of starting new relationships in your young adulthood–– and how to handle be “The one” after “The One.” it’ll be a good time.

Thank you guys for reading! Please like, comment and reblog :) You’re all amazing. 

Much Love,

Madmadmilk 💫

** i do NOT keep up with a taglist. track #one after the one to keep up with the updates, or check out my masterlist! thanks! 

[saxxxology]

Cosmo Says - 2

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader WARNINGS: smut: p/v sex, oral sex, some dom/sub themes, eventual threesome, exploration of kinks, and more NOTE: Do not save or repost my work without my consent. I don’t tag for spoilers, so feel free to message me with any questions you have. This work is 18+ only.

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Sam’s phone buzzes in his pocket. Tugging it free, he unlocks the screen and goes right to the chat string. There’s a new message from you. Odd, considering you hate texting and would rather call than send a—

Oh.

> i’ve always thought about your cock ;) 

His blood turns hot. It’s been a while since he’d gotten a text like this, the last time he’d done this sort of thing, he’d been left hanging and given up. That was a while ago. 

In the four years you’ve been with them you’ve all seen each other in the near-nude quite a bit, after walking in on showers, clothing changes, sex, everything. He thinks ‘well, I've always thought about your tits’ as a silent reply, but changes it at the last minute.

< What about it?

Your little chat bubble pops up, wavering back and forth for several long seconds before a message finally pops up. 

> how it looks. how it feels.

He chuckles to himself, ignoring Dean’s nagging “what is it” and attempt to lean over and get a peek at whatever’s amused his little brother. Dean only earns himself a muttered “fuck off” as Sam taps on the keyboard.

< You’re telling me this just now? Why?

> cosmo said sexting is good ;)

Ahhh, yes, of course. You’ve been indulging in that damn magazine again. Might as well entertain while he’s into it.

< On the road. Want a pic later?

> yes, please :)

He smirks to himself as his dick gives an interested twitch. 

< Are you gonna treat me, too?

> if you’re good. drive safe. 

“What was that about?”

Sam turns his phone over. His cheeks are bright red, he’s sure of it. “What was what?”

“Somethin’ got you happy,” Dean makes a grab for the phone, somehow keeps the Impala straight on the road, and misses as Sam yanks his device out of his brother’s reach. 

“Fuck you,” he retorts, grinning despite himself. 

“Was it Y/N?”

“Yeah.”

Dean narrows his eyes. “She okay?”

“She’s fine.” Sam clears his throat and stares out the window, trying to will his dick to stand down. He’s seen your tits on several occasions, the most notable being when he’d walked in on you touching yourself under the covers, rolling a nipple between your fingers with a hand apparently between your legs. The memory always comes to him when he needs it, and it never fails to do its job. 

“Anything juicy?”

Sam’s throat goes dry. “What?”

“She got anything on the case,” Dean clarifies.

“Uh, no.” Sam makes a show of checking his phone again, as if you might have sent something relevant to their travels. “She, uh, just wanted to check in.”

Dean relents, but gives his brother a shifty look as they continue down the long, empty stretch of road. 

They pull into a motel just after six. Dean sticks around long enough to drop his stuff, use the bathroom, and takes off for the closest bar. Sam takes advantage of the fact that he’s alone to throw the lock on the door and stretch out on his bed, phone in hand. The lure of privacy finally overwhelms him, and he shoves his jeans down his thighs, gathering his cock in one hand as he shoots you a message.

< Hey

You reply within seconds. 

> what you got for me?

Sam grins and strokes himself firmly, getting himself hard and ready. 

< Gimmie a minute

> can’t get it up?

< Feel free to help.

> mmm i can wait ;)

You’re relaxing in bed, phone in hand. Sam’s little chat bubble keeps popping up and dissapearing, and you can’t tell if he keeps fucking up the camera or not. 

> I’m sending this on Snapchat

You roll your eyes. Of course, he’s paranoid about Dean getting into his phone. 

< i’m waiting

After a good five minutes, a little yellow notification pops up on your screen. A thrill of excitement makes its way through your stomach, and you open the app and scroll to the fresh chat string.

Holy goddamn. 

He’s thick and long, flushed dark and glistening at the tip. Gripping himself at the base, held between his thumb and index finger. He’s shaved clean, or waxed, and you feel heat swirl between your legs at the thought of what he might feel like inside you. A quick screenshot lights up your screen, and you smile when Sam’s text comes through.

> Screenshot? Really?

You giggle, typing back. 

< i liked it. keep touching yourself.

> Wasn’t planning on stopping

< video?

> Hang on

You set your phone down to wait and quickly undress, getting comfortable on the bed as the anticipation builds. When another Snaptchat notification pops up, you slide a hand between your legs, teasing your clit as you open the video, volume on high. 

“Oh, fuck…” Sam’s breathy moan echoes through the receiver as the camera focuses on his cock. His hand’s moving steadily up and down, twisting around the head. You lose yourself in it, watching closely as his abs tighten, hips moving up so he can fuck up into his fist. 

The video only lasts a good fifteen seconds before it times out, and you let your head fall back onto the pillow as you try to process the heated glory of what you’ve witnessed. 

> Enjoy?

You raise your phone up to type a quick reply.

< yes - more?

> Define more.

< i want to see you cum

The next ten minutes are filled with the sound of Sam’s moaning on repeat in your head as you stroke and touch and rub yourself. You won’t cum quite yet—you’re just amping yourself up.

When your phone vibrates, you’re quick to snatch it up and scroll to the new message.

It’s almost a minute of Sam just panting and grunting, the phone angled down by his hip so you can see his cock aimed up towards his stomach. His fingers tighten, loosen, pumping up and down until he lets go with a strangled grunt and several drawn-out sighs as he spurts thick, white ropes of cum onto his abs. The video cuts off before he’s truly done, but you’re left satisfied as you shoot him a text with trembling fingers.

< messy boy ;)

> Haha. Can I see you now? Please?

Such a gentleman. 

< what do u want to see?

Sam takes a hot minute to wipe himself clean before replying. He knows exactly what he wants to see. 

< How wet are you?

> really wet

< Show me.

 He sits back against the headboard, breath held as he waits. As soon as the little chat notification pops up, he opens the image and lets out a long, drawn-out moan at the sight of your middle finger, shiny with slick and nestled between the bare lips of your pussy. He’s so engrossed in the image that he forgets to snap a screenshot and asks for a second. 

You send it without question, this one where you’ve got two fingers pressed down over your clit and Sam can see the soft pink inside of your cunt, flushed and swollen and shiny…

< I want to be inside you so bad is all he can manage to text you as his cock gives a solid twitch. 

> mmm maybe when u get back…

Sam’s mouth waters at the thought, and he’s halfway through typing a reply when you send a follow up that makes his cock perk up in his boxers.

> i bet cumming on your dick would feel real good

Sam rubs a palm over his thigh—he can’t remember the last time he got hard twice in a row… 

< Are you touching yourself?

> yeah

< Show me.

He slides a hand inside his boxers, stroking slowly as he waits. 

It’s well worth it: your legs are spread wide, two fingers swirling on your clit. He can see your cunt squeezing around nothing, and debates if it’s worth asking you to use one of the toys he knows you have. 

< Good girl… make yourself cum for me.

The next video, like his, takes a while to come through. He continues to rub and stroke himself, more intent on alleviating the pressure between his legs rather than having another orgasm. He wonders how warm and tight you’d be on him—it’s been a while since he got his dick wet and he’d be lying if he said his jackoff sessions the last few weeks have totally not been drenched in thoughts of you riding him, grabbing at him and begging for him...

His phone buzzes, and he bites down on his lower lip as he opens the video. 

Fucking. Hell.

It’s two minutes of your hips rolling, thighs trembling, moans changing in pitch and intensity. Sam pinpoints the exact moment when your orgasm peaks: you let out a long, high-pitched cry of pleasure as your body convulses, and he can tell that you’re fighting to keep your legs spread long enough for your shaky video to capture the rest of it.

By the time the recording ends, Sam’s ready to bust hands-free. He pulls his hand from his cock and replies, breathing through his nose as he fights to keep some form of self-control. 

< Gorgeous. 

> next time i cum, i want you inside me.

Sam groans, shifting uncomfortably as he types a reply.

< We’ll be back by the end of the week. Think you can wait that long?

> yes

< I wanna taste you. 

> you can ;)

Sam licks his lower lip, desperate to find some relief. He needs a shower, anyway, he can take more time in there. 

< Gonna clean up and get to bed. You all good back there?

> got cosmo to hold me down until u get back. send me a pic in the morning?

< Of what?

> you know. goodnight.

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[luvdsc]

hey there bub! i was going thru ur masterlist and i saw in the "about" section that u made eye contact with taemin OMG how did that go AAAAA u got to make eye contact with THE lee taemin? soo lucky :") i bet this happened prob awhile back but how was the superm concert? i'm sure it was amazing n so much fun AAAAA sadly they didn't go here in my city :( but i was able to see NCT dream live during their dream show tour and i tell you WHEW GOSH those boys are so ethereal??? like they look so good in vids and in pics but they're 1000000x better in person??? like pictures don't do their beauty justice?? gosh i could write a full on essay abt this. until now i still cant believe i got to see the dreamies live?? its feels so surreal like a dream, its crazy. i remember the lights dimming and 'dear dream' started playing in the background and i just lost it lol i was shaking and bawling my eyes out n the show hasn't even started yet djkfkjn i first noticed jisung n when i saw him the first thing that popped in my mind was: "he is SO tall and he's soso cute dear lord :")" and the way he dances, a frickin dance king?? he's rlly such a born performer. AND OHMYGOD JENO, the man is rlly WOW, ngl he kinda looks intimidating with his sharp features and smooth dance moves but his eye smiles make my heart mELT. i remember during the encore stage, the show was about to end and the boys were saying goodbye to us, jeno's face was showed on screen, he was tryna eat the confetti LMAO. renjun,, i will never shutup abt this but renjun is confirmed to be a FAIRY!! the prettiest boy :") #RENJUNFAIRYAGENDA he has such sharp yet delicate features and his aura is just so warm n comforting like he just captivates u n lures u in, and when he sings, like u can feel the emotion, hes so talented. all throughout the show, hyuck was just GLOWING (lives up to his name, fullsun uwu) . he's soso pretty n he's my bias so i literally was just in awe when i saw him, i was speechless :') he was rlly entertaining to watch n he was also so attentive to the crowd esp when he saw some ppl that got hurt, he kept telling us to move back a little. OMG HOW COULD I FORGET NANA, jaemin was soo sweet n charming and the way his eyes lit up whenever he looks at the crowd gosh my heart was abt to burst he rlly adores czennies :") jskfvkds hes also super tall lmao hyuck was tryna lift his shirt up tho and of course chenle, ngl but all throughout the concert, my eyes just keep coming back to chenle. out of all the dreamies, he caught my eye the most. like,, THE POWER THIS MAN HOLDS IS CRAZY?? THIS MAN DIDNOT COME TO PLAY!! his stage presence is crazyy ohgod esp during 119 performance, and he looks like a prince in real life. he also played the piano and i remember everyone was just in awe as he played like the whole crowd had heart eyes for him. it was such a fun n amazing experience, the boys were so amazing n talented, they rlly know how to put on such a great show. they work tirelessly n they're so good, like their voices and dance moves, srsly amazing :") ++ it so memorable cus it was my first kpop concert hehe. buying tickets were such a pain in the ass ngl it was so stressful but SO worth it 🥺 i knew jisung was tall but i didnt know he was THAT tall, idk if im just small but they all rlly look so tall JKDFSDJVFF sadly mark wasnt there :( sorry if i made this long, i just got excited and i thought it'd be nice to share my concert experience w/ u as well hehe 😅 i hope you're doing great bub!! <3

- 🐼 anon

omg hi yes, i was lucky enough to score tickets to see superm last year, and i was right up against the main stage railing !!! 🤩 so ten made eye contact and smiled at me, baekhyun also made eye contact and smiled and waved at me (he’s my exo bias and i was like the heart clutching meme when he did that), i yelled “you’re doing great sweetie” when taeyong took a pause during commentary time and he said thank you 🤧, and god taem looked at me for a good 20 seconds smiling at me and i couldn’t handle it and had to blink and look away and he laughed at me 😔 akslhflakshdfla but oh my god, lucas is so goddamn attractive irl it’s insane, and ten is sooo so pretty like i didn’t even pay attention to what they were saying during the commentary time sometimes i was just staring at ten who was in front of me and i was the starry eyed emoji (baek and ten were right in front of me, lucas was next to them), and pictures don’t do taeyong justice at all like that man is absolutely ethereal ✨✨  also!!!!! seeing ten perform his solos, hearing taeyong and mark rap irl and of course BASS GO BOOM BY LUCAS BECAME MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE WHEN ARE THEY RELEASING THAT SONG??? and i was in tears when taemin performed right in front of me like 16 year old me would be shaking in her boots if she knew she would see god taem in the flesh. actually current me was shaking askdjfhalksjdf i cherish all the videos i took so much (i accidentally deleted the entire jopping video except the mark rap part when i was trying to snip it to post to my insta story and cried rip 😭😭)

YOU GOT TO SEE THE DREAMIES IRL OH MY GOD I’M SO JEALOUS 😭😭 I WANNA SEE THEM PERFORM SO BAD!!! i keep rereading your entire experience and i’m living vicariously through you now aklshdflakjsdhfda oh my god, i wanna see jisung and fairy prince renjun perform live so bad 😭 i got to see hyuck perform three times now with 127, and he’s absolutely amazing, i couldn’t stop watching him dance like he’s my number one favorite performer in nct and the way he dances is heavenly and wonderful and his voice is insane 💖 he truly was born to be an idol 🤧💞💞 i want to write a proper response to each of your description of the dreamies but right now i’m just like no thoughts head empty just heart eyes for every single one of those boys 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸 aaaa thank you for describing them all, angel, i’ll keep this in mind as i write fics :’) omg and this was your first kpop experience???? you’re so lucky!!!! 💓 also i feel with the buying tickets omg i always have to get up early and keep refreshing on every device to get decent tickets and it’s so stressful askljdfhaksd but it definitely is so worth it in the end! my only regret is opting out of seeing skz last year and going to a party instead rip and omg no need to apologize!!! it’s really fun to hear about your concert experiences, sweetpea!!! 💞 thank you for taking the time to share that with me 💘  i’m doing wonderful and enjoying my weekend, and i hope you’re having a good weekend and doing well also, angel 🐝💛✨

[nereol]

In Your Arms (2/2)

Part 2 of a Val / Saul two shot (1843 words).

You can read this on AO3 or on my WorldAnvil page (with pics, music and other stuff).

"You okay?" She whispers against his shoulder. "How are you feeling?" "Free." Saul sighs. "No better feeling in the world." His fingers drawing circles on her skin and sending shivers down her spine. "Can't remember the last time I slept so well." He mumbles in her hair and Val bites down on her lip.

Morning cuddles and morning wood.

Something's off when Val wakes up. It is silent, complete silence. Silence, expect for the steady breath of the person lying behind her, holding her in muscular arms. She opens her eyes, blinks a few times. It's almost dark, just some diffused light of a lamp, and the first thing that comes in her view are rugs of a ladder. Bunk bed. She remembers and closes her eyes again. The sandstorm. Saul.

"Saul?" Val walks down the stairs in the dark basement. But even in dimmed light she can see bruises and bloodstains on his naked arms and shoulders. He sits on a chair, slumped over. "Do-do-d'you... have my goddamn cigar?" "Y-your cigar...?" Val looks down at him with a confused frown. "I told you sons of bitches... A cigar... Some ice-cold hooch... And a couple of ladies to keep me company. Either that... or you can kiss my keister." She grins and squats down in front of Saul. "Well, I could keep ya company." She winks at him. "How about a lap dance, since you're sitting already?" Val smirks up at him and he's looking at her for the first time now, frowning. "I'm here with Panam." Val adds seriously with a calm voice. "Panam...?" He looks confused. "But... she left." "Not forever." Val shakes her head. "Gonna get you out." "You, I remember..." Saul's eyeing her. "You're that merc..."

Val sighs and shifts a little, Saul's arm still under her neck. When she moves, Saul mumbles something in her hair and holds her a little tighter. Now her back is pressed against his chest and her ass against his groin. Val winces a little but doesn't move. 'It's okay... morning wood... totally normal...' She bites her lower lip. Normal, yeah... But the feeling of him hard against her butt causes her mind going places.

She can't stand it and turns around, slow and careful not to wake him. Lying on her back now, his left arm still behind her head and his right at her waist. Her tank top, which was tucked into the hot pants before, went out and up overnight, and Saul's fingers linger on her naked skin. Val turns her head to the right to look at him. There are just a few inches in between their faces. He looks so peaceful and relaxed, unlike last night when she woke him up from his nightmares.

Without even thinking about it, Val raises her left hand to brush some dark hair from his forehead. She studies his face while her hand lingers in his hair. He looks better than last night, getting some sleep in a bed pays off. But he still looks worn out - he'll need some good food and medical care, of course. But he's still good looking. Sure he's not a young man anymore. But Val doesn't care about age in the same way she doesn't care about sex or gender. Either she thinks a person is attractive or not.

Saul opens his eyes, blinking a few times. "Sorry..." Val's voice is almost a whisper, still thick from sleep. "I didn't mean to wake ya." She smiles at him, her hand still in his hair. He says nothing, just looking at her with a soft expression and green eyes still tired. Then he pulls her closer with both arms, rolling over on his back so that Val's lying half on top of him now. She chuckles low in surprise. Her head rests on his left shoulder now and her hand fell down from his hair to his other.

Saul holds her close with both arms, one around her shoulders, the other on her waist. Her top slipped up even more and the feeling of his big calloused hand on her naked skin gives her goosebumps. She shifts a little to make herself comfortable, bends her left leg which lies on top of Saul's. That's when she can feel him again, hard against her thigh. Val bites down on her lip, but Saul doesn't react at all, so she tries to relax. 'Just a morning wood.'

She closes her eyes again while his chest under her rises and falls with each breath. "Mhmm..." He sighs contentedly and leans his head against hers. Again silence, except for their breath. The sandstorm settled over night. After some time Val speaks with a low voice. "Guess we should get up soon." A deep sigh from Saul, rising Val up with his chest. "Nah... don't want to." His voice is low and deep, thick from sleep and even huskier than normal. Val chuckles low and breathes hot air against his skin. When his fingers caress the naked skin at her waist, Val sighs with satisfaction.

"You okay?" She whispers against his shoulder. "How are you feeling?" "Free." Saul sighs. "No better feeling in the world." His fingers drawing circles on her skin and sending shivers down her spine. "Can't remember the last time I slept so well." He mumbles in her hair and Val bites down on her lip. His deep, low, husky voice. The way he holds her in his muscular arms and his fingers on her skin. And his dick, hard against her thigh. Fuck. No matter what he was going to do to her now - she would be up for everything! "And I'm not talking about compared to the last few nights I spent kinda conscious on a chair." Saul adds. Val giggles again. "Yeah, it was a good idea. I slept pretty well, too."

In every other situation Val would have taken the initiative, wouldn't have hesitated for a second. But Panam is a friend sleeping in the room next door, without a door separating them and probably waking up soon. And then some other Aldecaldos will come and pick them up. Saul is the clan leader. It would be weird if he'd reject her - or if he'd disagree with Val's attitude afterwards. The relationship between Val and the clan is already tense enough because of what happened to Scorpion and the others.

But thinking about it. Saul's the one holding her in his arms, caressing her naked skin. And if she can feel his morning wood against her thigh, he can feel the touch, too. So maybe... Val let her left hand, which was resting on his shoulder, slide up his neck and into his hair. "Mhmm." A deep satisfied sound from Saul and he leans in her touch. His own hand slides up her back, under her top.

Val pushes herself up with her other hand, just a few inches so she can look at him. Her dark green eyes meet his lighter ones and she moves her hand down, cups his jaw in her hand, her fingers in his beard. His hand, which held her by the shoulders, slides up to her neck. Saul's gaze falls down to her lips, purple with almost ever-lasting lipstick, and he raises his head a little, leans in...

"V?" Panam's sleepy voice from the next room. Saul winces and Val can feel his grip tensing for a brief moment, while she closes her eyes and drops her hand from his beard to the mattress with a sigh. "V!" Panam's voice again, a bit louder now and Val opens her eyes again, pushes herself up and Saul lets go of her with a frown. She gets out of the bunk bed, careful not to hit her head and without looking at Saul again she walks to the door, pulling her top down.

"I'm here, stop shouting." Val's voice is still thick with sleep. Panam stands at the front door and moves around to look at Val, who's walking over to the couch. Then Panam's gaze is at the bedroom door before she looks back at Val, confused. "You..?" Val doesn't look at Panam. She sits on the couch and shakes some sand out of a steel-toe boot before putting it on. "Neither of us could sleep." She shrugs while looking up at Panam for a moment before she looks down to put on the other boot. "You were sleeping soundly. We... I didn't wanna wake you up."

"Okay." That's all Panam can think of in response while she's looking at Val with a frown. Saul, who has heard the women's conversation in the lack of a bedroom door, walks in the livingroom. "Mornin'." He greets Panam with a nod, but doesn't look at Val while walking over to the front door. Val looks up to look at Panam. What she must be thinking? First Val made a move on Panam and when she refused she climbed into bed with Saul? "Since when do ya care what people think 'bout you and your... lifestyle?" Johnny appears with a glitch, sitting in the armchair. "Good mornin' to ya, too." Val answers him in her mind without looking at him while she ties her shoelaces.

The sound of two bikes breaks the kinda awkward silence and Saul and Panam leaving through the front door. "Well." Johnny looks at her with a shit-eating grin. "That was what you call bad timing." She can't see his eyes behind the aviators, but he sounds smug. She sighs while pulling her googles over her head, so that they hang around her neck. "Gleeful, 'cause we got interrupted?" She raises her eyebrows. Johnny's just grinning while he lights a cig. Val pulls on the button up she's wearing instead of one of her thick bomber jackets in the Badlands before she leaves the small house.

Val talks to Panam for a while. She doesn't behave any differently towards Val than she did before, which Val is pretty happy about. Panam gives her the promised sniper rifle and even hugs her goodbye before she rides away on a bike. Val sighs in relief.

Then she walks over to the van. One of the nomads lies under the car, Val doesn't know who and she doesn't bother to scan to find out, while Cassidy stands beside it. Saul sits at the back in the open door. "I... uh..." Fuck, this situation is weird. She's usually not shy, but there are two other people listening. She looks down at Saul with a small smile curling her lips. "Better start headin' out." "Yeah, same goes for us." Saul nods and eyes her while Cassidy turns around to look at them. "Only one the radiator gets a breather." Then Saul looks her in the eyes. "Thanks, V." He sounds sincere with a soft expression at his face. "What you did for me, I'll never forget it." "My pleasure." Val gives him a cheeky grin before she turns around.

As she passes, Val pats Cassidy on the shoulder. "Thanks for bringing my..." She looks at the Apollo. "...Scorpion's bike." He only nods in response. She really is thankful for that. This way, she doesn't have to drive back to the Aldecaldos' camp first and can get back to her place faster. So, faster in the shower to get rid of all the sand.

[gideongrace]

OOO! I love your prompts! How about harringrove, 61 and/or 63 please?? :D

Finally, after a million years, here you go.

//

It's late. They're watching some dumb rom-com on Steve's laptop at his and Dustin's ugly, messy little apartment. And Steve is asleep curled up on Billy's lap like he's a goddamn cat and it makes Billy feel about eighteen different kinds of warm and soft and safe that all swirl and combine into this one entirely calming sort of feeling that's like nothing he's ever known. He reaches forward, fingers brushing the plastic-but-pretending-to-be-wood veneer of the coffee table and pauses the movie to just sort of… soak in the moment. 

It's quiet. Dustin is out with Robin and Heather. The lights are off so the only light in the room is coming from the dim and far off orangey glow of the streetlights through the big window on the side wall, the room's one nice feature, and the laptop screen. The glow from which should be ugly, it's all blue and gross and cold but… 

Still, somehow, it manages to light Steve's skin up like he's an angel. And Billy doesn't wanna break the moment but he also can't help himself, he has to touch that skin, has to touch Steve. He skates the tips of his fingers delicately along the edge of Steve's jaw and savors the softness of that skin but also the firmness of his jaw. His fingers trail up the side of his cheek, just along his ear...

"Mmm…" Steve groans and Billy freezes, dead and still like a statue, not even breathing until Steve says, "Stupid, perfect, idiot… and his… stupid, perfect face… such an ass…" making Billy burst out in laughter he tries but doesn't at all manage to contain. With all this noise he expects Steve to wake up, but he doesn't, he just grunts and turns his head away from the laptop screen and its bright blue glare. 

Billy is just debating risking touching him again when his phone screen lights up, letting him know he's got a new text or a new tweet or a new message on snapchat or a new something that either needs his urgent attention or that could easily be ignored completely. After a couple of seconds of debate, he decides to grab it anyway, knowing it's probably nothing important but too overcome by curiosity to really ignore it either way.

It turns out to be a text from Heather saying, "You up or did you take that pretty boy of yours to bed already?" causing Billy to snort. One of his favorite things about Heather? She is and has always been completely lacking in tact. And proud of it, too.

So he texts back, "No," and debates taking a pic of Steve sprawled out across his lap to send to Heather. He almost doesn't, but… then he does. He can't help it. He has to brag about his boyfriend to someone and Heather literally (basically) just asked about him, so he sends the pic along with the text, "But he did fall asleep on me halfway through the movie he picked so sort of?"

He can all but hear the way Heather snort laughs as she quickly fires back with, "Awww, you love him." 

Billy smiles and types back, "Yeah, so?"

She responds with, "I knew back at that party when you said, "I love this giant dork," that you really meant him. You've got it BAD, my friend." 

He looks down at the sleeping man in his lap and nods, even though she can't see him doing it and comes back with, "Since day one," to which she replies a huge string of smiley face emojis. 

They then trail off into talking about her and Robin and Heather's work and the baseball game they'd watched last week that had been such a disappointment before Steve yawns and wakes himself up. 

The first thing Billy says to him the second his eyes are good and properly open is, "You're adorable when you're sleepy," and ruffles his hair. 

Steve yawns again and leans in to the touch before replying, "Yeah, yeah," and the words could signal annoyance or irritation, but they don't. They're just as soft and as fond and as happy as Steve himself looks right now. 

So the next thing Billy says is, "Did you know you were talking in your sleep? Why don't you tell me more about my 'stupid, perfect face'?" and it's dark but Billy can still see the blush that creeps up onto Steve's cheeks over it. 

Billy's about to tease him more, though he isn't sure about what when Steve surprises him by sitting up and moving himself so he's straddling Billy's lap. "Okay," Steve says. "Your eyes are ridiculously gorgeous." He pauses to kiss Billy softly, chastely, quickly before backing up and speaking again. 

"Your eyelashes are long enough to make most girls jealous." 

And again he backs up to give him another quick, sweet kiss. 

"Your cheekbones are divine." 

Another kiss. 

"Your lips are downright sinful." 

Another kiss. 

"And don't get me started on the rest of your body or we'll else be here all night and I am much too tired for all of that." This time Steve yawns again and while it starts out being all for show it ends up being very real and sets off a matching yawn ripping through Billy that gets him feeling a little sleep fuzzy himself. 

He's pretty sure he manages to get out something like, "Let's go to bed then," before getting to his feet, Steve still clinging to him like an octopus, and somehow managing to drag the both of them to bed. 

//

This is part of the "Upside Down Cupcakes" bakery au fic series on a03.

And I included prompt #62 "You were talking in your sleep. Why don't you tell me more about my 'stupid, perfect face'?" from @wrecked-fuse and @harringrovetrashh. 💜

[mayeetjim]

I'm so sorry Orpheus but Wes is not telling Wilbur to sit in his nose /nm

Light Nsft warning

Okay look

I got this copypasta from somewhere else

And if you look in the second chorus, it does in fact say node

Oh, I see it

(Make it 19, baby)

Okay

Mmm, no

No, okay?

I- I don't think that's going to happen

I don't think that's going to happen

(Oh Dream!)

Cool idea

[Chorus]

I just spoke to TommyInnit

He said, "Give me a goddamn minute"

I said, "Bitch, two posts, one month?"

George, pass me the blunt

I'd pay for the dick, not a fucking manhunt

GeorgeNotClothed, Clay balls exposed

"Tommy, are we the bad guys?"

Wilbur, sit on my nose

I only date bad guys with the good halos

(I lost, dude!)

[Verse 1]

Schlatt got stacks, he bought me a 'fit

He said I looked good, so I gave him a kiss

In my maid 'fit, cute as a daisy

Bitches be like

(Help, my pussy's gone crazy!)

[Verse 2]

I be in the chat like cJerk

(Ugh)

George on the OF, no shirt

Karl wants to send my ass to the moon

So I took a little pic, put that shit on Zoom

[Pre-Chorus]

I'll take a pic

Show me the nips

(Oh)

Bitch, I'll take the pic

(Ooh)

Dream laugh like, "eeugh"

Schlatt laughs like, "aha ha ha"

[Chorus]

I just spoke to TommyInnit

He said, "Give me a goddamn minute"

I said, "Bitch, two posts, one month?"

George, pass me the blunt

I'd pay for the dick, not a fucking manhunt

GeorgeNotClothed, Clay balls exposed

"Tommy, are we the bad guys?"

Wilbur, sit on my nodes

I only date bad guys with the good halos

(I lost, dude!)

[Verse 3]

I paid Gogy $500

Got me on Skype

(Ugh, poggers)

Sapnap and Dream, you got a room for me?

I got a maid dress, and I'll clean for free

[Outro]

Tubbo cut his hair, anybody see that?

I think it looks good, Tubbo

Stay safe out there, man!

You're awesome

And George, post on your OnlyFans, goddammit

I just want one post

Where you are- are-

You don't even have to be naked

I just want you to-

I just want-

I just want the username to be GeorgeNotClothed