#he has never even told me it's okay with him or that he still loves me or any of the standard platitudes

[sophism84]

My friends from before I was married carried more on their shoulders and with them than so many grown men I know.

So this is just a shot in the dark at how strong they actually are.

Long live us. Because we must live too. But always long live her. Forever. She is one of my greatest friends always. She taught me so much.

I couldn’t carry everyone with me from school to school, but I did the best I could when I had to leave some people behind.

Leaving others behind was never saying I didn’t wanna stay, I had to do more things so I had to leave everything behind. Because more things were to come. And I had to make sure they got done.

The people with me, were with me. I’m so thankful for everyone who learned mandarin.

I’m sorry to my children whom I failed the most. Because of weaknesses programmed into me from birth. My greatest heartache is my weakness in your lives. Right now I just wanna pick up my sword and take some heads off. And bring them to you on a platter. Just to make you feel safe wherever you may be. The seething in me. Makes me scream at strangers when I just wanna be taking heads off. It makes me not wanna get out of bed, when I’d rather be taking heads off. It makes me feel things in me are more dead than alive cause I’d rather be taking heads off. Why taking heads off is not more acceptable anymore I understand but so help me, I wanna gut some people.

I understand why you needed juice that day, because something happened to me and my brother as children and I couldn’t handle the rage so I drug a mattress up w whole hill and laid by a dumpster and told everyone that came. I’m sorry my pain in one life impacted yours to a point I couldn’t even comfort you in such a moment. I didn’t even understand why it was happening to you. Loving this false life we have all become accustomed to. Falsely thinking we are not all interconnected in so many ways. It’s painful. So painful.

So many have fallen at my feet, as we have had to walk on. Not in the fawning way.

It hurts to know they are gone from the path they were on. Because I couldn’t save them from what others had planned. They will be back. When they choose. And maybe we will meet again one day. So I can smile upon their face and embrace them. The thought of meeting some people again or for the first time makes me feel like throwing open my arms and just embracing them.

Hugs are so warranted after a long journey.

The hardest journeys are when there are no hugs at the end. Red wine should never be served warm

Idgaf what wine savants say. Warm red wine is disgusting. Shove it in someone else’s face!

Sometimes I still feel the sharp pain in my feet and wrists. The nailing. It’s beyond painful trust me. I don’t have piercings.

It’s not that I hate metal, I just don’t want it in my body.

When I was 11 the growth over the earrings I had to take them out and seeing blood drip down my own ear was so painful. I think because I felt so many peoples pain when it happened before.

The tears fell so hard and fast straight from the past. The ugly cry was out in full force mirror blinded from my sight by tears. But I took them out. And wiped it all up. After crying them out.

Because today was another day, in another life, and we can only control today. And everything has to be okay today. I might’ve heard a knock on the door and called “just a minute” because I was dealing with a lot. Denying I was crying.

The world is more inside you than outside of you.

Imagine a little planet inside you. Imagine the solar system inside you, because it is in you and all around you.

I wish I could talk to my grandpa today. Just because. We want to end journeys w whom we started with. I want him to hold us all and smell our hair. I want him to talk to my children with light in his eyes like he did me. I want him to hold them and them to know, not all of this road was meant for them. I wish his embrace could heal things I can’t. I wish his tears would fall on their shoulder and they would know how loved they are. It’s unfair my children never got to feel the warmth of such an embrace as that. From such a kind heart. He searches the depths of the ocean for lost souls just for me. He carries cosmos just for me. He might not have been able to hear sound but he heard so many whom were taught not to speak. He was duped by some heartless people. But he never gave up. Because he knew I was showing up soon. And he kept me safe as he could. Swinging in the backyard and there was a tether ball they put up in the backyard for me. He probably saw how I was handling the game at school, I hope he was pleased.

Reminds me of the piece of Swiss cheese in kindergarten. And the slide. And the pride of some children.

We had safety patrol but we made peace patrol w blue jackets for a reason. Times were tough as a kid. And not everyone was having a good time.

I’m so sorry for failing when I wanted to not to the most. So tears will fall for a long time.

One day again I will hold my babies and smell their hair and I will never let go again.

I will cut off heads despite consequences. Without guilt or shame. Without a second thought. I will not refrain. Not anymore. Don’t test me.

[yeonmuse]

IN WHICH 𖤓 Jay has a chance encounter with the girl that works at the town square music store. While attempting to recruit her for his band he realizes he’s starting to have a thing for her, Unfortunately for him she doesn’t date musicians.

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x Park Jongseong ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🎸

authors notes. This is part of admins University series. This series also has connections to Curtain Call, Can you Hear my heart and other upcoming series, so occasionally characters from said series may appear in this series as well.

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— TRAILER WC 357 words FLUFF|SMAU

“How many times are you going to ask me to join your little band knowing that I’ll continuously tell you no?”

“Until you finally give in and tell me yes.” With a charming smile on his face Jay follows behind yn as she carries a box of old cassettes and vinyls over to the clearance display. Jay had been trying his hardest to convince her to join his band for a week now, each time recieving the same answer from her, a big fat no. Despite her having told him no every time he was determined to get a yes from her though.

“You know I liked you a lot better when you didn’t talk much.” She responds, crouching down at the display to stock up and fill in the empty slots on the cassette shelf.

“You’re seriously not going to even give it a shot? You can’t just act like I didn't see you play or hear you sing.”

“Jay for the last time I’m not joining your band okay? I bid you and them good luck but music is not my thing anymore.”

“You’re going to tell me music isn’t your thing when I watched you sing and play that guitar as if it were your lifeline. No matter how hard you keep trying to deny the fact that you love music you can’t give it up, because it’ll always come back to you. Just give it one shot, come to auditions tonight..and if it feels wrong? Well then I’ll let you leave and we’ll search for someone else”

Yn wanted to once again shoot him down and tell him no. Though her thoughts had been telling her she shouldn’t give in, that she should reject his offer, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Her heart had still been in the music as much as she wanted to deny that she hadn’t let it go. When her fingers met the strings of a guitar or grazed a mic, she had never felt any discomfort.

And that conversation was the exact reason she had ended up there tonight. Six sets of eyes locked onto her as she stood up on stage with her fingers clasped tightly around a microphone, and a guitar sat against her stomach.

[everestgale]

what if. what if I ask about Paranoid. huh what then-

(take your time lol)

Well, good thing you told me to take my time because it took me a while to formulate all of my thoughts on this guy. Damn you Paranoid- /lh

[Send Me a Character and I'll List Ask Game]

Warning: I have some strong opinions on Paranoid, and as a result, I'm worried that it might sound like I'm attacking people or bashing people's opinions/headcanons. So I need to preface this: I am NOT bashing anyone for having different opinions and headcanons from mine. And I am NOT saying that my opinions/headcanons are right/better and other people's are wrong/worse. This is nothing but me sharing my opinions, that's all :]

favorite thing about them

It is insanely refreshing and comforting to see a fictional character with anxiety symptoms, who copes through hyper-competence and vigilance.

Most portrayals of anxiety and anxiety-like symptoms tend to lean towards shy, socially awkward, quiet, and avoidant characters. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that! I'm just saying this to explain why having Paranoid, a character with, well, paranoia, be demanding, argumentative, and competent, is so refreshing and, honestly, validating, in a weird way. His response to the horrors, to his own distrust and anxiety, is to laser focus on a solution/an action that he can take to make it all stop… and there is something very relatable in his persistence, in him trying so desperately to claw his way out of this self-imposed, distrust- and fear-filled prison, sometimes to the point of insanity.

And it's very much a self-imposed prison. His distrust, anxiety, and fear are what twist Nightmare into the lonely monster she is, power of perception and all. He is quite literally the source of his own problems, which he then tries so desperately to solve… all of which are immensely relatable. He is a very flawed character with a very skewed perspective… but he isn't a helpless cowering little thing, he is a coward, sure, but he frantically fights back despite it.

I don't even know if this makes sense anymore. But also yes, I project like all hell onto Paranoid. No, I am not sorry about it.

[Yeah, this is also getting long. More under the cut.]

least favorite thing about them

Paranoid, I love you, I would never say no to more Paranoid… but I have to be honest, he stole Skeptic's rightful spot in HEA.

HEA with Skeptic would've been such a nice exploration of his character, especially with how underutilized he still is, even after the Pristine Cut. And realistically, Paranoid didn't need another Chapter appearance, especially since, if I remember correctly, he was the voice with one of the highest number of Chapter appearances, he got an extended role in Apo, and he got an appearance in the Cage. My Paranoid-loving heart is screaming for saying that, but Deconstructed -> HEA should've been Skeptic.

favorite line

"The whispering and the coercion and the bickering — everything horrible about being alive has stopped. I could get used to this."

"Oh that's right! Yeah, fuck this guy. Don't trust him."

"Of course I'm not okay! I've never been okay. But maybe I needed to never be okay for us to make this happen."

"Who deserves something like this? She wants her freedom at the expense of ours, and she's willing to destroy us over and over again if it helps her. What kind of god does that? Stop deluding yourself. If we're going to make this work, all of us need to see the truth!"

…and of course, the classic "Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves."

brOTP

I am obsessed with platonic ParaBroken, especially with the new Apotheosis re-write. Seeing Paranoid absolutely lose his mind as you defy Apotheosis, seeing both him and Hero encourage Broken to see beyond his devotion to Apotheosis... I remember genuinely clapping my hands after picking [Still your doubts.] and hearing Broken go:

"But it's not enough to stop us, is it? We're going to make it to her."

They did it! My boys did it! They helped Broken to see beyond Apotheosis, beyond his perfect goddess... and believe in something other than her. Even better, to believe in them, to believe in him.

And this exchange too:

"That's what should happen. Why isn't it happening? Did we do something wrong? Were all these powerful, heroic thoughts not enough?" "I believe! I believe in us! Isn't that enough?" "Unless we got the rules wrong... I'm sorry. I think I messed this up."

The way these lines are said... Broken's genuine confidence and Paranoid's panic turned into guilt... UGH, I love how their relationship develops throughout this route.

Not quite as rooted in canon (more so inspired by the dynamic written by one of the Discord mutuals), but I also like to imagine that in the post-ending (where they would recover all of their in-game routes as memories), Broken remembers and appreciates Paranoid's persistence during the Apotheosis... and so in turn, he helps the anxious voice with his panic in whatever ways he can. I love my platonic ParaBroken HC <3

Honorable mention goes to ParaCheated, with Cheated being a near-permanent resident of Paranoid Medical Center™, and Paranoid trying his best to patch Cheated up when he falls apart... they hate how often they have to see each other there, but besides that, they have a pretty good friendship :]

OTP

...it's ParaHero [2]. I already talked about it for a while in Hero's character ask. If you wanna know why I like ParaHero so much, check it there :]

...actually, I feel like I didn't do ParaHero justice in my Hero post. It's just so hard for me to explain my thoughts on why I like this ship so much. Just the way they interact during the Nightmare route, with all their bickering and back-and-forth, especially the "I thought you needed me to run the autonomic nervous system" conversation. Despite Paranoid's clear annoyance (and Hero's awful chant), he still gently (but still with his signature snark) guides Hero on how to do it properly. And throughout the route, when Paranoid kept losing control of the autonomic nervous system (either because he kept trying to comment, or because of Nightmare), Hero was there to guide him back, to keep them all alive. Like I mentioned in the Hero post, there's a certain degree of comfort between them that really appeals to me, and I can't quite explain it. It feels like they are protecting and helping each other. It feels like there is trust and respect between them. It just feels like they would get along well.

And during the Apotheosis! How both of them (more so Paranoid than Hero, but still) are trying to convince Broken to join them, how they eventually all do join together for "One. Last. Try"... how in the old Apotheosis dialogue, Paranoid's curious "I'm interested" sort of calms clearly pissed-off Hero... and how in the new dialogue, Hero gently asks Paranoid if he's okay... These BIRDS, UGH-

...the goal of this was to elaborate on my ParaHero thoughts, but instead, I feel like I'm talking in circles. I don't know if anything I said makes sense! Grr! Why are words so hard /lh

nOTP

This is probably one of my only actual nOTPs... it's ParaCold. And the more I think about it, the more I realize that it's mainly for personal reasons </3

And to be clear, this is specifically for ParaCold as a romantic/semi-romantic ship. ParaCold in general is a very interesting dynamic, and I love exploring it, so long as it's not romantic <3

random headcanon

Oh! My Paranoid is the only voice that doesn't have eyes with irises, and instead, he has "glassy eyes full of static" (as a nod to all of the crackly static noises in the Nightmare route. I sort of talked about how his eyes "break" in this post :]). And because of that, I HC that he kind of has a bad vision, loosely inspired by the visual snow syndrome. It just makes sense in my brain that Mr. "More eyes, too. You never mention the eyes" would be the one with noisy vision.

unpopular opinion

I am not a big fan of fem!Paranoid headcanon. It personally just makes me a tad uncomfortable to write my Paranoid as fem, given the fact that he is the most anxious voice, who has a tendency to lose his mind and act what's commonly described as "hysterical", all qualities that are often stereotyped and associated with women and femininity. Plus, I really like Paranoid's representation as a guy with anxiety/paranoia, so writing him as fem feels doubly awkward.

It's a popular community HC, so I feel I should clarify again: this is just me trying to explain why I don't feel comfortable with writing my Paranoid as fem. I am NOT trying to accuse anyone with fem!Para HC of misogyny or anything like that. If you write and HC Paranoid as fem, I respect and support you! This is just my thoughts and opinions <3

…plus, as I already mentioned, I project onto Paranoid a lot. And as a transmasc/genderfluid/not sure nonbinary person, I identify with masc!Paranoid a lot more than fem!Paranoid <3

song i associate with them

I genuinely don't remember how I found this song, but it fits Paranoid really well: "something wrong" by NomnomNami

"those eyes, they continue to spread on the walls on the ground and i don’t think that any place that’s safe is left"

"i know i wasn’t wrong! how can this be my fault? my blood is spilling out your eyes are full of doubt…"

favorite picture of them

Of the art that I made (because canonically disembodied voice and all), this is probably my favorite:

...yeah, it's ParaHero angst. I just like how I drew Paranoid here <3

[valentine-cafe]

Would it be okay to ask for a Kourabiethes? Male reader and romance, preferably!

Male reader is like Snow White, got cursed to sleep for eternity until his true love kisses him. Over time where his "coffin" made of glass is placed, white roses have grown far and wide, which catches the eye of Valerius (I think I spelled his name right?)

Would that be okay to ask? Thank you for acknowledging this ask ❤️ Love your works!

˖⁺. ﹙ demon prince of hexes x snow white-esque male reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . You're mine now, let me take care of you !! 🍒 : demon ˖ rhytaari﹙ abhorration resident valerius. ﹚

with your roses spreading across the lands of a realm ridden of any and all, Valerius finds you, the sleeping handsome beauty he decides to make his

Valerius who had found you laying in your glass by following the trail of white beautiful roses the had traversed his abode. What strange place to find someone in. You truly must be the priced possession of whichever demon laid eyes on you. Peacefully slumbering, so unaware of the presences around you.

Valerius who looked upon you with such awe, his hand gently tracing the edges of the coffin you sleep in. No doubt did he even pay, he knew it was a curse, rather than death.

Valerius who comes to visit your place often, admiring the sharp and soft features of your face. Handsome, so beautiful. He can’t get his eyes off of you, nevermind how many times he has told himself that ‘this time will be the last.’ Though it never is. A certain longing dwells within the cold, gilded chambers of his heart. Screaming for you to be free.

Valerius who one day cannot stand the pull the man in the glass coffin has on him anymore. His magic breaching through the glass by shattering it into pieces and wrapping around you to protect you from the sharp shards flying all around. You belong to no demon— He’ll keep you safe from whatever took you down here in the first place.

Valerius whose lips ghost yours, one hand trailing down your spine while the other keeps your head supported against his shoulder. And after a moment of slight hesitation, lips meet and press together in a short-lived but passionate kiss.

Valerius who watches as you wake up slowly after, your eyes opening, as you let out a small groan still full of sleep and rasp. Able to speak a sentence or two in your drowsy state: “Who are you?”

Valerius whose unbeating heart slams against his chest at the sound of your voice. The greed of the demon that had taken you is suddenly understood tenfold. Yet, Valerius isn’t here to steal you away and make you fall into slumber once more. Instead, he whispers he’s saved you, before walking off to his temple, away from anyone else who can come get you when they see fit.

Valerius who worships the ground you walk on, with the one condition you keep the chains of gold on that he has given you. Why would you wanna leave this place anyway, you have it all right here. You adore his servants, all so nice to you. There are no evil threats nor deeds by disgusting demons anymore. You would never leave this place.

Valerius who refuses to let you go out of the temple. His worry of someone whisking you away too great.

“You’re mine, you are my dearest beloved. A man fit for the life in a temple.” He whispers against your lips after the flurry of kisses. They’ve all rendered you speechless, as you hold back bated breaths. Awaiting more as you try your best to listen.

“Valerius. . .” Oh what beautiful begging you reward him with. ”You don’t care at all that you are my prince now, do you?” He chuckles, before resuming his heated kisses.

[thebus1boys]

🪻The Anticipation Of Knowing You by toastnbeans [13k]

After Louis overhears his next door neighbor having sex, he doesn’t really expect anything but awkward hallway encounters to come from it. Instead, he’s surprised to find himself in a whirlwind pen pal relationship with the sweet, albeit loud, baker next door.

🪻Home For The Holiday by @larrysmomfics [86k]

A "The Holiday" inspired AU where Harry meets Louis after agreeing to swap houses with a stranger on the internet for three weeks over the holidays.

🪻However Do You Want Me, However Do You Need Me by @moonshinelouis [7k]

Louis loves Harry—he loves being his boyfriend, loves being soft and gentle with the person he cares for the most. But there must be something seriously wrong with him; why would he crave to be rough in a moment so delicate, with a person he’d never otherwise dream of hurting?

🪻Just Hear This And Then I'll Go by @allwaswell16 [44k]

Former boy band member Louis Tomlinson can’t stand pompous indie artist Harry Styles, but with a new record label to launch he is going to have to endure his pretensions to snag up and coming new artist Liam Payne, who happens to be Harry’s oldest friend. Luckily, Liam seems to be very interested in 78 Records and maybe a little more than interested in Louis’ best friend. Too bad Harry won’t be making this easy on any of them.

🪻Lonely Cards Club by @hellolovers13 [25k]

Harry's life in Cardiff is rather uneventful. Until he receives a strange Christmas postcard. It gets even stranger when he finds another one the next day. An Advent story about missed opportunities and second chances.

🪻Take My Breath Away by @realitybetterthanfiction [153k]

Lt. Harry Styles, call sign Sparrow, is a prodigy when it comes to flying. The owner of an unrivaled Naval pedigree, being a pilot was always written in the stars for Harry. With his trusty RIO, Lt. Niall Horan, Harry has made an unprecedented ascension in the ranks of the Naval aerial combat elite, and has been recruited to the esteemed Premier Delta flight school, carrying on his family’s legacy. What he finds there are unexpected friendships, perilous challenges, and something beyond what he ever thought possible. Because as his father had always told him, before the great Captain Styles went tragically missing in combat, you don’t fall in love with the sky, you fall in love with what keeps you on the ground.

🪻The Oldest Magic Word by @kingsofeverything [18k]

Louis gets called up to play Seeker for the English National Team and when he gets there, he finds out that Harry Styles, his old school crush, is the Team Healer.

🪻After All This Time by lovelarry10 @chloehl10 [36k]

Louis and Harry have been best friends since a fateful meeting on the Hogwarts Express seven years ago. With their time at Hogwarts coming to an end, their friends are determined to make them see that perhaps they've always destined to be more than just friends. Prompted into reliving some of their most vivid moments at Hogwarts, Louis and Harry come to a startling realisation... that just maybe, after all this time, they're meant to be each others. Always.

🪻You're All I Dreamed Of by staybeautiful @harruandlou [53k]

Harry sank lower until his chin was hovering just above the water line. He had his mug balancing precariously against the lip of the bath. It had to be cooling already, but he still looked serene, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

“I could live here,” Harry said, smiling with his eyes closed.

It was as if the words sprung from Louis’ mind, his mouth, and twisted into Harry’s. His heart picked up and before he could stop them they were tumbling out.

“Okay, you should,” he stuttered and Harry turned to look at him. “You should move in with me.”

Or after a Monday lunch with Zayn, Louis finds himself reevaluating what "too soon" means, especially when it comes to Harry.

🪻Temporary Tattoos, Hotel Hearts, Horizon Homes by teumessian [17k]

Louis is just 18 and ends up in 2015 for one day at Harry’s request, one day to make sure his spirit is strong and hopeful enough to take him to the X Factor and end him up where he’s supposed to be. Aka, the one where Harry makes sure Louis knows how amazing he is.

🪻Making The Grade by hachimanskitsune [151k]

His last Dom/boyfriend outed him to his entire graduate school faculty leaving Harry to flee Glasgow. Some tough love from his mum sees him moving to London to room with his best mate. With a bit of luck he gets into graduate school to finish his Masters Degree and managed to score an assistantship position for a professor to cover his tuition.

Things were finally coming together, but he missed submitting. When his best mate decides to drag him to a local kink club, Harry thinks it's a mistake, but he needs the relief. A chance encounter with a fantastic Dom at the club leads to an intense scene that rebalances him emotionally -- until Harry shows up to meet his new mentor the following week and finds himself face-to-face with the same blue eyes that dropped him to his knees two nights before.

Harry curses his luck of finding the perfect Dom, only to have him be the one man he couldn't ethically have. Can they find a balance between desire and duty?

🪻Relaxed Daddy, Tamed Bratty by @somedovesfly [9k]

Established d/s Larry. Louis has a stressful day at work and asks subby Harry to give him sensory deprivation to relax and decompress. However, the brat in him can't resist playing with his tied up Dom and Louis is more than happy to give him some fun-ishment for misbehaving.

or A realistic BDSM story about how couples use kink for not just sex, but also stress relief.

Total Fics Read: 12

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

I need mooooore please 🫶🏻

87 for 🔼:

---

“Oh my god,” Eddie faux-groans. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m crazy about you for you to believe me?”

“Maybe one more time.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I love you. I’m crazy about you. I want you in every aspect of my life. You’re my family, Buck. Satisfied?”

“Yeah, I… Well, I feel the same way. Uh, about all of it.” 

“So come over today,” Eddie says. “We can all figure this out. Together.”

“Okay,” he says. “What time?” 

Eddie feels giddy.

🔼 

Buck feels incredibly awkward driving to Eddie’s. Shannon and Eddie’s. Shannon and Eddie’s? He doesn’t know how to think of it. Christopher and Jane’s. How about that? 

Okay, he’s spiraling. He knows he’s spiraling. But he’s nervous. There are a lot of stakes here, right? His relationship with Eddie. His relationship with Shannon. His relationship with both those kids, who he loves so damn much. And then, Eddie and Shannon’s relationship, too. He doesn’t want to be the reason that gets messed up. That would devastate him. So this has to go well. It can’t not go well. 

On top of that, Chim is still… Being weird. And it’s making Buck feel a little unmoored. He’s asking like nothing is off or weird. Their conversation last night never happened. He just lives with Buck now. Which… Buck remembers being kicked out of his place and sent to sleep on an air mattress in Maddie’s dining room. So, it’s not like they’re exactly well suited to being roommates. Maybe if neither of them had partners it would be fine. But Buck really wants the place to himself. For reasons. Even more pressing, he really thinks Maddie needs Chim back. So that’s on his mind. He doesn’t really know how any future arrangements are going to go, for himself or his sister. 

Buck parks behind Eddie and sits for probably forty seconds.. He feels like he’s going to puke. They’re going to say one thing to him about a… A throuple, and he’s going to be so anxious he pukes. It’ll be gross. It’ll be embarrassing. They’ll change their minds about him. 

A text chimes on Buck’s phone. It’s from Eddie.

What are you doing? Come inside. 

Right. Okay. 

Buck gets out of the Jeep and walks up the front stoop. He hardly has time to open the front door and step fully inside before Chris is hugging him.

“BUCK!” He whoops. “You’re here! You’re really here!”

Buck hugs him back, momentarily relieved from his anxiety. 

“Yeah, bud. I’m here. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too!” Chris says. “Can we play Minecraft later?”

“Oh, that’s up to your parents,” Buck says. “But I’d be down for it.”

“Yes!” Chris cheers. “Told you he’d want to, Dad.”

[4lexnilsen]

“stop the fucking car,  helena.   i’m done playing whatever game you’re playing.   i’m tired of repeating the same thing over and over and over again only to feel like i’m talking to a wall.”   fingers carding through his locks,  alex has never been quite so frustrated.   this whole psychological bullshit means absolutely nothing —   he’s NOT a bully,  he never makes fun of her,  and as long as she’s respectful towards him and his friends,  that’s the kind of energy he sends out to her in return.   she won’t guilt him into feeling like the villain when he’s simply defending the ones he cares about.   “fine.   don’t elaborate on anything,  keep throwing random diagnosis and insults at me,  see where that takes you.”   how very mature of her.   he rubs his temples,  wishing they’d just explode and end his suffering at this point.

“oh?   i’m revolting?   but it’s perfectly okay for you to sexualize me?   you need to get these double standards sorted out.   don’t expect me to just sit here and put up with all this infidelity talk without saying anything back.”   she literally told him that he was screwing poppy!   how’s that any different?   jesus christ,  how could he ever consider helena his true friend?   she’s an attention-hungry brat,  that’s what she is.   as soon as he focuses on someone else,  he gets accused of cheating and labeled as a narcissistic asshole.   “i’m very happy with my life,  thank you for your concern,  though.”   she’s the only one giving him headaches and causing any frustration in his life.   “do you seriously have to be the most important person in every room?   why do you expect me to prioritize you over sarah or poppy?   what makes you think you’re better than everyone else?”   she loves to talk about his parents,  but at least ed and elizabeth nilsen didn’t raise a spoiled princess who needs the world to revolve around her.

“next thing you’ll be calling me is a sociopath.   i’m bracing myself for yet another unprompted diagnosis that’s nothing but bullshit.”   she can never elaborate on what exactly the criteria is,  how exactly is he so damaged.   does she have a degree in psychology?   clearly not.   she’s probably seen a few episodes of the good doctor and suddenly is an expert.   “i could care less about your daddy’s money,  but if i’m a sad,  broken little boy then you’re just a spoiled fucking brat.”   he rolls his eyes and lets go of the steering wheel,  grabbing the door handle instead and trying to open the door even as the car continues to speed down the interstate.   “I WANT TO GET OUT OF HERE.”   before she crashes into a truck or something.   before she digs up more painful memories from his past just to poke holes in them and psychoanalyze his ways.

she infuriates him because she sees right through him —   he would have to have a death wish to act on his words and pull on the brake.   he won’t say it out loud,  but she’s right and doing so would surely send them flying,  spinning and straight up crashing.   he doesn’t want to risk his life or health,  and as much as he despises hell-lena’s guts at the moment,  he also doesn’t want to gamble with hers.   he lets go of the brake wordlessly,  just glaring at her,  pale blue eyes growing ice-cold.   as she begins to accelerate even more,  god,  he doesn’t want to know how fast they’re going,  he does the opposite of what he assumes she wants to see and does his best to appear relaxed.   unbothered.   fuck her and her stupid mind games.   he hopes she gets pulled over,  prays daddy will have to bail her out.   “WHY are you pinching me?!   why is it okay for you to hurt me but a big deal when i defend myself from your abuse?”   his thigh still stings where she’s pinched it,  and he’s sure there’s a bruise forming already beneath the denim.   how’s any of this fair?

“are you fucking serious right now?   are you seriously asking me why i don’t want to show up at my girlfriend’s workplace with a psych ward escapee?”   he can already imagine sarah’s face,  knows how confused she’ll be and would rather avoid making a scene around her colleagues.   helena doesn’t have the right to ruin his relationship or question his honesty and loyalty —   it’s between him and sarah,  has nothing to do with her.   “are you seriously threatening me with prison right now?   when you’re the one breaking every law,  going over the speed limit,  playing with our lives for the fun of it?   that’s how you get what you want,  isn’t it?   first,  you try to impress people,  bribe them into being your puppets and when that doesn’t work out,  you show your true colors and threaten them.   lovely manipulation techniques.”   but it does shush him up.   he’s a man twice her size and she does have enough money to hire lawyers who’d ruin his future in less than five minutes.   “i never want to see you again after this,”   is all he says before tossing her phone back into her lap,  refraining from aiming for her head instead,  folding his arms over his chest and looking out the window.   fuck her.

"just like you make fun of me!? ALL the time? maybe i'm tired of just taking it.. that seems to piss off the actual bullies off really well every time that happens though. they hate it when their victims get tired of it, so it gets turned on them. you're just proving it." people who are kind, finally get tired of being kind after being stomped on and then looked at like the bad guy EVERY single time... this situation, no different. and it's shocking most of all... because she didn't think he would act like this, out of all people. "i've already told you!" she isn't explaining it again and again, when she's already did that... it clearly won't matter so there's no use. and at this point, he's starting to successfully make her feel crazy, almost tricking her brain it really is just all in her head? maybe this girl is absolutely innocent, maybe it's just alex who's been causing the weird vibe. no, not when there's so much proof, it's not her fault he's blind to it. she can't let him manipulate her.

"that's so degrading. you're revolting." if he can talk like that, demean her, sexualize her, how is it not likely that he's just been attempting to be her friend so she can be another poppy? at this point, revealing what a totally different person he's revealed himself in being, helena doesn't trust it anymore. that would make sense, would it not? why he doesn't seem to value her as his friend, like he does his other one who clearly doesn't care to give him what he wants? "maybe it's you taking out your frustrations, that's why i'm not that important. that's why you've revealed your true colors. i get it now." because she's not initiating things in the way he wants her to so she can be another side whore. "clearly i do, since you fit EVERY criteria of one." the sometimes nice to her, sometimes terrible to her part. thinks he's superior part. lack of empathy part. envy of others part. "is that your problem with me? you hate me because i come from a family with money? you really ARE just like everybody else," tears flying out of her eyes now, rosy painted cheeks flushed with heated rage. "say what? putting words in my mouth? but sure, since you said it.. it must be true." something must've made him so emotionally unavailable and that must be the start of it.

eyes briefly flickering from the road to the brake, she's almost at the exit she needs to fly down to sarah's auditorium that she's putting the puzzle pieces together from the small glimpse of the name from the post she managed to dig up before he snatched it away. and she's losing the upper hand, mind quickly circling on how to take back control. "pull the brake at this speed and we'll crash." that's just the facts, he can't pull it or they'll go spinning. and it angers her he thinks he can just take control, so her foot hits the acceleration even harder to ensure he can't pull it even if it risks getting pulled over as jaw clenches and eyes focus back on the lanes she's hanging the hard curve with. left arm jerking back when her wrist is left stinging at his slap, "WHY are you smacking me?! you're the one trying to kill us! i can drive this car PERFECTLY FINE if you'd stop trying to jerk the wheel and make it come to an abrupt stop!" shoving him away from her when he calls her insane and essentially calls her a homewrecker which is so far from the truth it's disgusting, she's done with the conversations about poppy... this is about sarah now.

"why are you running from sarah now? you have something you want to say to her, remember. so i'm just doing what you SAID." TAKING him to sarah, just like he SAID. "please, you think you're the big bad man here? 9-1-1 would easily take you. hitting a woman, and with daddy's money," mocking him, "remember," a new fresh wave of tears flooding her face because she hates he uses something out of her control against her, that he reminds her of all of the people who has always judged her for being the heiress to a wealthy family, and with her emotions angry and spiraling, of course she wants to use it to make threats and sarcastic jabs at him because of how much it hurts when she thought he was her friend and he just keeps driving the dagger DEEPER, "you could go to prison for life." he wants to judge and label her as some rich brat, make her feel like a terrible person because of the background she comes from, then that's what he deserves to get.

[girlivealwaysbean]

sometimes my bestfriend is like an angel in disguise istg

[rubyredbonnetblue]

My dad "acknowledging" my queerness:

*yesterday, helping me move boxes* My dad: you sure have a lot of books on queer history Me: yeah, I collect them. They're mostly old out-of-print books that I found at Half-Price My dad: *goes back to talking about logistics of box stacking and says nothing else on the subject* *a few months before, Bronski Beat is playing* Me: I love Bronski Beat My dad: *surprised* me too! They were my favorite band when I was a teen. Me: you know, Smalltown Boy is actually a song about being gay and running away from home. Me: *continues to try to tell my dad why I'm passionate about Bronski Beat and how they played a really cool role in queer history* My dad: *turned away and actively stopped listening to me the moment I said "gay"* *outright interrupts me mid-sentence to change the subject*

[bewby]

when you get blocked by him even tgough you guys barely even talk anymore but the last time you talked which was about a week ago you actually had a nice and healthy conversation and you had alot of love for eachother and it seemed amazing 😂😂😍😍😍😍 no i'm definitely not fucking crying Lol

[kosmos-dan]

Thinking many thoughts about the Fëanorian Hotel

Tyelpë being the pretty receptionist. He always greet people with a big smile. There’s always holly leaves in his hair

Whenever some Karen screams at him and asks to talk with his manager, he just says “okay :D” and press a red button on his desk. A few moments later, there comes a seven foot guy with long ass fiery red hair, a king stride and a death glare

Everyone falls silent.

Maedhros stares directly into the Karen’s eyes

“How can I help you?”

“I… I’m s-sorry… I apologize- I… excuse me” and leave

A moment of silence… and Nelyo and Tyelpë laugh so hard that they start crying

They’re both sweethearts, but whenever the red button is pressed, they know is time to scare someone off

Speaking of Nelyo, he is tired. Someone give my guy a break. But he’s always polite and smiley except for the Karens. He spends all day on his office signing papers and answering calls and dealing with his brother’s and customer’s mayhem, but sometimes he just stop for a bit to listen to Maglor singing in the main hall, or to gossip with Tyelpë, or to annoy Caranthir alongside the Ambarussa. He loves his family very much

Nerdanel put her art on the corridors. Beautiful statues that look so alive it’s almost uncanny. Everyone loves them (Fëanor specially) and praise her whenever she’s around, cleaning the statues or switching the old ones for new ones. Curufin says that her statues bring out the light in people’s hearts

Maglor is always singing in the main hall. Jazz, rock, r&b, you name it. Soft lullabies when it’s getting late and upbeat music when the sun is up and shining. Some people believe he’s an cryptid. Does this guy ever get tired? Does his throat ever gets sore? They will never know. They only know that he was there when they went to sleep and he’s still there when they wake up.

Caranthir is the business guy. Always suited up, long hair slicked back and braided. No one fools Caranthir. He keeps a meticulous track of the Hotel’s finances. The fear of bankruptcy has never plagued his family’s minds for they know that their money is safe. He’s a very elegant very composed guy who exales seriousness even though he gets suuuper mad when the redheads take the day to annoy him and is honestly kinda funny

Fëanor displays his inventions and collections in the main hall, side by side with Nerdanel’s sculptures. The Silmarils shine over a self-portrait (self-sculpture?) that Nerdanel did, one that Fëanor insisted she put on the main hall “for everyone to see how beautiful you are, crowned by my Silmarils” (Nelyo thinks it’s very romantic; Celegorm thinks it’s very cringe)

Sometimes, Fëanor is seen helping his sons and grandson on something. He definitely told some rude customer to get off of his gates at least once. He talks shit about these rude customers (and his half-brothers) with his sons in languages he creates just for them to use; it’s not uncommon for people to hear seeming gibberish being talked or shouted by the Fëanorians in the halls. What a weird family

Walking through the city……. seeing Tolkien everywhere

[weezerlvr228]

It's giving the...main character syndrome. like who tf does she think she is??? Y/N???

NO OH MY GOSH ANON. LET ME TELL YOU. LET ME FRIGGIN TELL YOU.

[borderlinereminders]

It is okay and normal to be mad at people you love sometimes. It's normal for them to be mad at you sometimes. What I think really matters, is how people treat each other when they're mad.

My partner was mad at me yesterday. I was supposed to book his ferry last week but I forgot and when I went to yesterday, the reservations were sold out. (He has really busy work days and that's why I was booking it - before anyone says he could have just booked it himself. I have a lot more spare time than he does and had agreed to do it when he asked.)

He was genuinely mad at me. He expressed feeling frustrated, but he never once yelled at me. He never once insulted me. He never once threw a past mistake in my face because he was upset.

He told me that he still loved me when he was mad at me, but he took some time to calm down. And then he came back and told me that he loved me again. I gave him a sincere apology. And we came up with an alternate solution, and we moved on.

I made plans for how I can not get so distracted in the future - because I did mess up, and part of apologizing in my opinion is aiming to do better next time.

But the point is that while he was mad at me, he never treated me poorly. He was never cruel or mean. He understood mistakes happened, but he still needed a minute to sort through his feelings. And that was okay. He was allowed that. I was genuinely upset, and I felt terrible. But he was allowed the space to be mad, and I was comforted by knowing he still loved me even if I had messed up. I used my own coping methods to deal with my feelings.

It's okay to be mad, even angry. It's okay to need space. It's just important to be mindful of how we handle our feelings, and we need to know that we don't deserve someone to be mean to us, even if they're angry.

[thundersoothers]

john price, his wife, and... the dog (derogatory)

who: John Price x wife!reader

what: inspired by this thought about john price being an absolutely softie for his wife. continued here!

word count: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of cheating but it’s NOT TRUE! you’ll see… just fluff that reallyyyyy makes me want to marry this man.

It’s 2AM on a Saturday in the summer when John Price thinks he hears his wife cheating on him. 

“Shhh!!  You have to be quiet, you’ll wake up my husband.” 

He opens his heavy eyes to see the TV paused at the end credits of some movie he can’t even remember the name of.  The screen reflects in the crystal of the empty rocks glass on the coffee table next to his feet, holding only a warm whiskey stone.  

He groans and stretches, his old t-shirt riding up to show a dark happy trail disappearing into low-waisted flannel pajama pants.  He has one sock on with a hole in the toe.  You told him to get rid of them and got him a pack of 20 of the same sock (he’s very particular about his socks), but he still wears these ones, anyway. 

“Stop moving, I’m trying to concentrate here.  Damn lock… can never— oh, shit.  Heh. Wrong key.” 

He can hear you muttering and giggling and the scratch of the key against the lock as you struggle to get it in. 

It’s your girls’ night and he likes to wait up for you to make sure you get in safely.  He saw you off around 8PM, pouring himself a glass of whiskey as you took a shot of tequila.  You planted a big kiss on his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark that he didn’t bother to fully wipe off. 

“Sorry, I know you’re eager to get inside.  I bet you’re so cold, all naked.  Here, you can go in my dress, is that better?  Fu—ow!  Don’t bite my tit, Jesus!  Sharp teeth…” 

Price suddenly feels much more awake.  He pushes himself up from the couch and starts to walk to the foyer. 

“This damn door… ah!  There we go.” 

The door creaks open and he hears you tiptoe inside in your heels (wearing heels and tiptoeing—are two actions that are mutually exclusive, especially when you’re plastered). 

“Remember, we have to be quiet.  My husband waits for me to get home, we don’t want to wake him up.  He’s very nice, you see, but he can’t know you’re here.” 

Apparently, you have gotten home safely—with an extra guest who just bit at your tit.  And you’re being louder than your guest, who you keep telling to be quiet. 

“My husband is gonna be soooo mad.  He’s gonna be so mad at me, but once he sees how cute you are, I think he’ll forgive me.  He’ll understand.  I had to.  I just had to!” 

He hears rustling as he gets closer to the foyer, you fumbling around in the dark. 

“Stay there, don’t move, okay?  Stay, yeah?  You know that, don’t you?  Mummy will teach you if not.  Just stay right there.  Lemme get these damn heels off…” 

There’s an odd sound of something quickly clicking on hardwood floor that makes his eyebrows furrow, and then you gasp—

“Wait, don’t run—“ 

Bang! 

You groan loudly. 

Price flicks on the lights.

You’re lying face down on the rug.  You have one heel on.  The second heel is twisted around your other foot—what you fell over.  Your little dress is flipped up over your ass and your arms are outstretched. 

“You okay there, love?” John asks, torn between amusement and concern. You just groan.  “Sounded like you fell pretty hard.” 

“I tripped,” you say into the rug, sounding very sad. 

“You hurt?” he asks.  “Anything broken?”

You shake your head and curl up a little.  “I’ll just sleep here.” 

He laughs softly.  “Come on, none of that.” 

“It’s so comfortable.  I’ll just—“ 

There’s that clicking sound again and he’s almost startled by the abruptness of your movement.  You push yourself up with one arm, stretch the other out and fucking snatch the quick-moving little brown blob that’s moving toward you.  You pull it to your chest and cradle it, shielding it from John’s view. 

He blinks. “What you got there, love?” he asks after a second. 

“Nothing,” you say innocently. 

“Right.”  He crosses his arms, looking you over.  “Who were you talking to just now?” 

“No one,” you say quickly.  “Myself.” 

“Right,” John says again slowly. “Show me what you have.” 

You look over your shoulder up at him through your lashes, vision blurry.  “No.  You’re gonna be mad.” 

“Just show me.” 

“Promise you won’t be mad.” 

He sighs.  “I won’t be mad.”  You give him a look.  He sighs again.  You’re wasted—he can tell by your eyes. They’re unfocused and heavy.  “Promise.  Now show me.” 

You look down at whatever you’re holding to your chest.  “Okay,” you whisper (to your tits?), “you need to be very well-behaved, okay?  No biting, please.  Be very nice for Daddy so he will like you, okay?  Can you do that?  Yes?  Okay.” 

You glance up at John again over your shoulder and then turn yourself around in a very clumsy movement.  Then, as if presenting whatever it is like you’re Mufasa from the Lion King, you lift it up in the air toward your husband. 

It’s a puppy. 

It’s quiet. 

The little dog wriggles in your hands, wagging his tail so hard his whole body shakes.  He barks up at John, high pitched.  A small pink tongue lolls out of his mouth. 

It’s still quiet. 

You lower the dog a little so you can look up at John.  “You said you wouldn’t be mad!” 

“I’m not mad,” John says, sounding mad. 

“You look mad.” 

“I’m not mad,” he says again.  “It’s just… dirty.” 

You gasp.  “He’s not dirty!” you exclaim, sounding offended on behalf of the dog.  You pull him to your chest.  “He’s just a little mangey, you see.  But that’s okay.  It can be fixed.  You know—they have medicine for that.  Or lotion, or whatever it is.  He’s very nice, John, I swear.  I know he’s a little… skrunkly but he’s very cute and—ow!  That’s my hair, no biting Mummy, please.” 

“You’re already calling yourself his Mummy?” he asks, bemused, eyebrow raised at you.  Yep.  You’re fucking wasted. 

“Yes, and you’re his Daddy.”  You hold the dog up again, this time facing him toward you.  “I think you’re very cute, puppy. You’ll grow on Daddy.  Just be very good for him, you can do that, can’t you?  Yes, you can.”  You whisper, as if John isn’t standing right there, “We’ll wear him down. Don’t worry.”

“I thought it was something else,” Price says. 

“What did you think it was?” you ask, not looking away from the dog.

“Where did you find it?” he asks instead of answering. 

This is much better than what his traitorous mind momentarily supplied.  You, cheating? As if.

How silly of him to even think that. For a moment, his stomach twists with the guilt of doubting you. He should have known better. 

Of course it’s this.  What else could it have been?

A puppy. 

A puppy! 

“Oh, hello, there.” 

You crouch down in your dress and heels and hold out your hand to the little puppy emerging from the bushes by the side of the road. 

“What are you doing here, all alone?  Come here, love, I won’t hurt you.  Come on, puppy, come to me.  Yeahhh, there we go.  Oh, look at you.  You’re so cute.  You’re all mangey, though.  Oh,” you say pitifully, “you little baby.” 

You’re drunk as fuck at 2AM on a Saturday in the summer, halfway through your walk home from the bar, squatting in the middle of a back road in England, about to cry while petting this puppy clumsily—but he doesn’t seem to mind.  He wags his tail and nips at your fingers. 

“Where’s your Mummy?  You shouldn’t be out here all alone.  No collar… oh, goodness, what should I do with you?  I don’t want to leave you.  I’m not sure what to do.” 

He barks at you, high pitched. 

You nod at him seriously.  “Oh, yes, good point.”  He barks again.  “Mhm.  Yes, yes.  I thought so, too.  Exactly right.” 

He runs in a circle around you. 

“What are you, a month?  You should be with your Mum, you shouldn’t be all alone.  Oh, you little baby, you must be so scared.”  (He’s wagging his tail.) 

“It’s so cold.”  (It’s summer.) 

“Maybe you can come home with me?”  (Your husband would be so mad.) 

“Yes,” you decide.  “You’ll come home with me.”  (Your husband is going to be so mad.) 

That’s how you end up stumbling home with a puppy in your arms, rambling to him about yourself and your life. 

“Well, puppy, my name is Mrs. Price.  I’m from around here.  I live in a nice three bedroom house with my husband, I think you’ll like it very much.  It’s very cute. He let me decorate it. He doesn’t understand feng shui, you see. You should see his office, puppy, it’s so bland. No taste for interior design.”

“Our house is only 10 more minutes away.  See that big tree there?  That means we only have 10 minutes left until we’re home.  I’m not great with street names, you see, so I go by landmarks.”  He barks.  “Yes, yes, you get it.” 

“Anyway.  So, I’m—stop wiggling please, Mummy’s going to drop you—I’m married to a very nice man named John.  I love him very much.  You’ll like him, too,” you tell him seriously, “he’s very likable.  I like lots of things about him, puppy.  Actually, I like everything about him.” 

“He says I can’t have a dog, though.  He says it’s for my own good—booooo. Boo! But maybe we can sneak you in.  What do you think, puppy?  Should we do that?  I think we should do that.  We’ll have to be very quiet, though.  Very quiet.” 

“John waits for me to get home safely—he’s so nice, he’s so kind to me, I love him sooooo much—but we have to make sure not to wake him up. This is one of them—uh, covert operations. He’s very well-versed in those. My husband is very talented, puppy, he’s a Captain. So we’ll have to be extra careful.”

And that’s how you end up trying to sneak into your own house and then trip over your shoe and fucking slam! your face on the rug. 

“Where did you find it?” John asks you as you sit on the floor after you presented the dog to him.

“On the way home from the bar, kind of my that big tree.” 

“By Notting Street?” 

You furrow your eyebrows.  “Notting Str—I dunno.  Maybe?  I just know the big tree.  The one with all the branches.” 

“‘The one with all the branches,’” he repeats, nodding slowly.  “Right.” 

“But he was there all alone so I took him home.  I couldn’t leave him, John, he’s so little.  And he’s very cute, look at his little ears?  And his little feet?  His toes are soooo small.  His little teeth are sharp, though—like a shark.  Fuckin’ hurt, he almost bit my tit off.” 

“Yeah, I heard.” 

“You heard?  Oh.  I was trying to be quiet.  I didn’t want to wake you up.” 

He smiles at you.  “I know.” 

You smile back. 

“Give me the dog.” 

You frown.  “No.” 

“The dog, please.” 

“No.”  You hold him tighter.  “You’ll take him from me.” 

“Well,” he says, “yes.” 

You sigh heavily.  “Be gentle.”  You hand him to John and he takes him in one hand and holds him out, frowning, as if it’s offended him. 

A puppy. 

“Can we keep him?” you ask hopefully. 

He glances at you and then back to the puppy and then back to you and then back to the puppy.  “No.” 

“Please?” 

“No.” 

“But…”  You trail off and he looks back down at you.  You’re starting to tear up. 

“Oh—love, don’t cry.” 

“He’s so little and soft and nice and he’s all mangey and he’s all alone and he’s just a little baby and…” 

“Okay, okay, darling, we can keep him.” 

(By that, he means you’ll talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober, and by ‘talk about it’, he means, ‘no.’) 

“Really?!” you gasp.  

The way your face fucking lights up makes John pause.  For a second, he almost feels like he lost his balance.

“Oh, John, really?  Oh, thank you so much!  Puppy, did you hear that?  Daddy said yes!  See, he’s very nice, just like I told you, remember?  He’s very nice and kind and he’s very handsome and I love him very much, and I—“ 

“The dog can’t understand you.” 

“You don’t know that,” you say defensively.

He looks down at you. “Right.”

You stare up at him, standing over you as you sit on the floor.  “How are you handsome even from this angle?”  You frown deeper.  “Stupid face,” you mutter. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Let’s get you up.” 

“I’m so comfortable.” 

“Hand.”  He tucks the dog under his arm and extends his other hand toward you.  He crooks his long, thick fingers at you.  “Now.” 

You look between his hand and his face, and then slip your hand into his. 

“Good girl.”

He fucking yanks you up and, in one movement that’s somehow graceful, bends down and throws you over his shoulder. 

He, naturally, slaps your ass and you squeal.  “Hey!!” 

You kick your feet (still with only one heel on) and he laughs, resting his hand on your hip, heavy fingers digging into the plush of your butt, as he makes his way up the stairs with you on his shoulder and the dog in his hand. 

Gently, he drops you onto the bed and you fall back with an oof! and stare up at him. 

“Well,” Price drawls, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

You grin.  “I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too.”  He takes off your shoe (singular), your dress, and your makeup as you hold the dog, curled up, on your chest. 

“You’re so good to me, John,” you say, your eyes closed.  “I’m so lucky.  I don’t know how I got so lucky.  And, you, puppy,” you mumble, petting him slowly, “you’re so lucky, too.  You’re about to have the best Daddy in the world.  He’s so good to us.” 

“‘Puppy’ is asleep,” John says.  “And,” he adds, scooping him up in one hand, “puppy is not sleeping in the bed.” 

You just groan, too tired and drunk to argue. 

He holds the dog out in the air again, turning him around and upside down to examine him.  He yips and wriggles in his hands, but John shushes him.  “Hush now.  Your Mummy is asleep.”  He shakes his head and sighs.  “What am I going to do with you?” 

He takes the dog to the bathroom and puts him down on the floor. His paws slip a little on the cold tile. John puts his hands on his hips, staring down at the dog.  “I can’t believe this.”

He reaches over to turn on the heated floor (which he got installed for you) and says to the dog, “You are so, so damn lucky I love your Mummy.” 

In the morning, despite John Price’s best efforts to say no to you, you end up convincing him to keep the dog. He’s a military Captain but the pleading of his wife is enough to make him crumble.

The happiness on your face when he finally says yes, makes him wonder why he ever said no in the first place.

note: thank you for reading! this is my first time posting in years–and in a totally new fandom. thank you for your patience and your support. let me know your thoughts! merry christmas!

posted 12.26.2024. revised 01.02.2025.

do not repost or modify any of my original words on any other platform.

to masterlist.

[dragstone-of-no-future]

[Get back, everyone, get ba&#6!//]

Hello again everyone ! this is Square Head, and it has been a seocnd since wwe cooked! I am going to get to the last recipe aNd this is a doozy but with it you can say GOODBYE to \pain and heartbreak\ forever! Let's get star][]]ed with:

The Patience Dream Part 2: Ever Unto Ghosts

[***nk he's interfering with the r\cor((+ng]]]]}

You have to remember his face first. How excited he was to fight with his friends once more. How he and Threadline plunged through the tunnels, crept carefully with eager smile-- their jokes. You have to remember how much he loveds jokes.

It was like you were a kid creeping under a jungle gym to scare your friends. Do you know what being a kid is like? [No. You were never a child but he told you often about back home] You crept towards the aquifer and it was something of a grand joke. You even had to chuckle.

He just got so damn excited.

[Mart7&?! M#ten you have to st$; this /||ea:*]

When you broke ground they weren't ready for you. Threadline was bringing everyone else in but you got to clear the worst offenders. Letting go felt so easy, so calm. Marten was the perfect pilot, and you understood him perfectly. It felt like basking in the sun.

Then the shot rings out [was it a shot? was it coreworms? It didn't take long right please tell me he didn't hurt] It splatters his head your heart across the back of your ribcage.

Marten's gone. He's not gone. You've still got him. You're still fighting with him until the day is done.

Let your friends pick you apart. It will take a long time. You were made to remain.

Tie your bonds and hold a gun to their head and it'll be okay. It'll be okay. You won't have to let him go.

[There! There, the brachial mount is weak you can dis%rm]

I don't want to let go.

Local_Storage_Only: PR, or The Stone’s Throw

[You gotta promise to be cool. There’s— there’s a lot going on.]

{Cowie—Bluelack— leans back against a cargo shelf in the rec bay of Jeweled Wings About. She looks tired. All three Mud Wasps present do.}

[Can we just be quick? I’m worried, we haven’t heard from Saleh in a minute.]

[She’s fine. Resourceful. …Likely scared.]

[But we’re not about to shoot my best friend, right?]

...

[…Okay. So, cutting to the chase— something happened to No Future. Marten’s NHP, it… got hurt, when the Horizon Needle activated, and Sal was trying to work on her subaltern when it circumvented the shutdown routine we were using to keep him still. He’s in Mechanical right now, and Saleh is locked in there with him. Hiding, probably— his SEKHMET protocol’s gonna make him gun for her on sight. None of us can get to the pilot seat, or comms, or even see the stupid blog because SHE was using the omnihook. So... We need help.]

[vintagebuckybarnes]

In Vino Veritas

Pairing → Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Lab Assistant! Female! Reader

Total Wordcount → 3.5K

Summary → It all started when you and the Avengers enjoyed drinks during the afterparty back at the Avengers Tower. There, Tony revealed one of your deepest secrets, and even though you wish it had never come to light at first, you’re glad it did when the man you love stands on your doorstep, ready to start the rest of your life together.

Tags & Warnings → Semi-canon compliant, Avenger! Bucky Barnes, Female! Reader, Tony’s Lab Assistant! Reader, Bucky’s past as TWS is mentioned, emotional hurt/comfort, mutual pining, some cursing, and explicit sexual content.

Tags: Smut → Grinding, begging, some dirty talk, praise, teasing Bucky, protected sex, cowgirl position.

Story Rating → Explicit

Author’s Note → This story is beta'd by the wonderful @late-to-the-party-81, and I cannot thank you enough for that. I hope you'll all enjoy my story, which is filled with some angst, lots of fluff, and some smut to top it all off! 💜

Writing Prompts @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition → “There is no us.” | Riding | In vino veritas | “Touch me.” @fandom-free-bingo Medical Edition → Crush at first sight @julybreakbingo Post-JBB → Being confronted about their feelings for another

Tags List → If you’d like to be tagged in my stories, you can add yourself to my tag list here.

The evening starts fine, good, even. But it all takes an unexpected turn when the man you work for - Tony Stark - reveals your secret. A secret that you’d only recently revealed to him.

Earlier that day, you’d spotted Bucky as he was working out and from that moment on your mind has been with him instead of your usual work and tasks.

“Hello, Y/N? Anyone home in there?” Tony asks as he lays a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. You look up at him with a worried look while he smiles back at you with a kind expression. A soft sigh escapes your lips as the thoughts in your head wander off again, specifically how his back looked underneath the tank top he wore in the gym while doing squats. Not only that, but you also can’t stop thinking about the way his ass looked in the sweatpants he wore. In a word, magnificent.

“Is everything okay with you? You’ve been a bit off your game today.” As Tony sits next to you, you put down the screwdriver you were holding - the one he asked you three times to pass to him - before turning to face him, your gaze focusing somewhere on the wall behind him. For a moment, there’s a silence between you as you gather the courage to tell him what’s been on your mind.

“Well, uhm- There’s something, or someone, that I can’t stop thinking about, and it’s taking over my mind every second of every day. It- It’s Bucky,” you say almost in a whisper. For a few seconds, Tony is completely silent as he lets the thought of you having a crush on one of his fellow Avengers sit in his mind. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he reaches out for your hand and takes it between his warm ones.

“You know that I’ll always support you in everything, right? I supported you when you expressed your desire to halt your life as an Avenger and retrain as my lab technician, and I supported you when you moved out of Avengers Tower to have your own home with more peace. This is not going to be any different. All I’m hoping for is that he will make you the happiest and best version of you, as you deserve nothing less.”

Tears brim at your waterline as Tony tells you this, and even though you deeply appreciate him, his words, and everything he has done for you, you can’t help but still feel a bit… odd about the fact you told him you’re having a crush on Bucky. That you have a crush on the man who was once the most feared assassin in the world under the hands of HYDRA.

“Now, can you hand me that screwdriver before your thoughts wander off to him again?” your boss asks in a teasing tone, making you smile as you grab it and hand it to him. Somehow, he always seems to know the right thing to say, and it's exactly why you enjoy spending time by his side while learning everything there is to know about his lab and what's going on in there.

Just as you’re about to get comfortable with another drink in your hand, you meet the gaze of the man you’re crushing on, and you feel heat coursing through your veins. The lines around his deep blue eyes intensify as he smiles at you, his attention making every last thought in your brain disappear. You’re so captivated by how Bucky looks at you that you miss your seat as you sit down. However, before you fall, you’re caught by a pair of solid arms that prevent you from hitting the floor.

“Careful there, Little One,” Thor says in his deep voice, his accent always making the butterflies in your stomach go wild. Even though you’d known Thor since you were young, you couldn’t help but get a little flustered by the nickname, and he smiled at you as you were finally sitting on the chair you intended to use.

“Thank you, Thor,” you whisper before sipping your cocktail. Around you, the conversations are starting to become a little blurry as you focus on Bucky and everything he has to say, his lips forming around the words effortlessly. When you suddenly feel a little shove against your arm, you yelp, making everyone go silent as they look at you.

“What did you do that for?!” you ask Thor in a low voice, but all he does is point to Tony, who obviously has something to say as he’s waving for everyone’s attention. There are moments when you enjoy the fact that alcohol can bring out people’s true feelings or thoughts, also known as in vino veritas, but not now. Oh no, now you wish you could disappear as you listen to the words coming out of Tony’s mouth.

“Guys, you really shouldn’t say this to Bucky or Y/N, but they’re having a massive crush on one another!” Tony says in a loud whispering tone, but what he fails to notice in his inebriated state is that you two are sitting right across from one another, enjoying the afterparty just like everyone else. Or at least, you were enjoying the afterparty until your secret got out.

The glass you were holding falls out of your hand before shattering into pieces on the floor, and your feet carry you as fast as they can away from the party and away from your worst nightmare come true. The music behind you fades away as you turn one corner after another, tears burning in your eyes as the event repeatedly replays in your mind. Your lungs start to burn as you keep running, the stinging feeling in your side increasing as you run out of the Avengers Tower into the night.

Meanwhile, Bucky’s world feels like it has taken a 180-degree turn. Mere minutes ago, he could only fantasize that you could have feelings for him, but now? A wave of disbelief washes over the super soldier, his expression showing pure surprise as he takes the moment in. For him, it was a crush at first sight from the momentyou walked into the training room on your first day. Over the years, his feelings have intensified, although he has only told Steve about his crush - or rather his now deep-rooted love - for you.

And yet, now that the pair of you have been confronted about your feelings for one another, he doesn’t know what to do. He has replayed the moment he’d confess his feelings to you more times than he can count in his mind, and in none of those versions, this is one of the scenarios that had appeared. It’s only when Steve grabs his arm and pulls him away that he seemingly comes back to reality again.

“Bucky, how does Tony know about your crush on Y/N? I mean, I’m, of course, fine with you sharing it, but-”

“I don’t know, Steve, I don’t know, and it kills me,” Bucky says as he runs his fingers through his cropped hair.“Fuck- I was planning on telling her this week but… but now it’s ruined, and I didn’t even get the chance to talk to her, and-” It’s all Bucky can say as he fights the urge to punch the wall with his metal fist, both hands clenched by his side as he tries to regulate his breathing. Without warning, Steve pulls him into a hug, and Bucky’s arms snake around his best friend's waist as his fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise,” Steve whispers, though he’s not entirely sure that’s true because he knows as well as anyone that things don’t always go back to how they were before. Still, Bucky decides to believe him as they stand there for a little while longer, and he soaks in every bit of comfort he can get for now. Lord knows he’s going to need it.

The past few days have been strange, to say the least. You haven’t been to the Avengers Tower since Tony revealed your now not-so-secret crush on the super soldier. You’re afraid of what will happen if you do. This also means you haven’t seen Bucky in a few days, and you miss him. You miss hearing his laugh, and you miss seeing how his mouth turns slightly upward as you hand him one of your baked goods, but most of all, you miss how his arms feel when he pulls you in for a hug.

Just as you’re about to make yourself a cup of tea, you get pulled from your thoughts by a soft but familiar knock on the door; only one thing can make that sound: Bucky’s metal hand knocking against the wood. For a moment, you contemplate your actions, but decide to give him at least a chance to talk, especially as it wasn’t him who laid out your feelings in front of everyone.

“Bucky, hi,” you say softly as you take in his appearance, your heart sinking as you do. It’s evident he hasn’t slept at all the past few days. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he doesn’t look as healthy as usual—more disheveled. The struggles he’s facing are apparent in his entire demeanor, and all you want to do is wrap him up in a warm blanket and cuddle him until the end of time.

“Hi,” he says hoarsely, and you step aside, allowing him to enter your apartment. He’s been here a few times already, and usually there’s a warmth radiating from you and every inch of the little place you call home, but ever since the party, it hasn’t been the same. It isn’t just the apartment, either. You feel different.

“Would you like some tea before we talk?” you ask to break the tension. “I was about to make some.”

He nods at you before wandering further into your apartment, and you head to the kitchen, picking out another mug for Bucky to use. Once he’s caught sight of your couch, he immediately takes a seat, a soft groan audible as he does. There aren’t many places more comfortable than the large couch that’s standing right here in your living room.

When you emerge a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of tea and a plate filled with chocolate chip cookies you baked fresh this morning, Bucky can’t help but smile at you. He gladly takes the tea with one of the cookies, as they’re his favorite, and when you sit down next to him, it feels just like it always has, as if nothing has changed. But you both know it has, and that’s why the super soldier’s now in your living room.

“So…” you start, unsure what to say now that he’s sitting on your couch. Bucky’s eyes are trained on the steaming tea in his hands, his thoughts going a mile a minute as he’s thinking about what he wants to say - other than confessing his love for you.

“So… uhm, we missed seeing you around the Tower,” Bucky starts, though you both know it’s mostly him who has missed seeing you there. You have always been a staple there during his mornings as you make him a cup of coffee, and during movie nights, you were always the one he could sit next to and enjoy the movie, but now that you’re not there, it’s like a piece of soul has left the Tower with you.

“I mean, yeah. It’s been a bit awkward for me to go back after what happened a few days ago,” you tell him, and a shudder of horror runs down your spine at the thought of having to face Tony again. A smile tugs at the corners of Bucky’s lips as he thinks back to what happened that night, a happy memory of your first meeting resurfacing in the back of his mind as he does.

“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes. I’ve made some chocolate chip cookies, if you want some. However, I should warn you, Tony’s been on the prowl since I took them out of the oven, so I’ll advise you to be quick,” you say with a glare towards Tony, who has been eyeing them up since he walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. For the first time in a long time, Bucky showed something akin to a smile, and everyone looked at each other to ensure they saw it, too.

“Thank you,” he says lowly, grabbing one of the smaller ones on the plate, followed by a cup of coffee, before swiftly leaving the kitchen to spend more time in his room. Before Bucky even left the kitchen, Tony was on the cookies as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks, and this time you let him.

“Can I- Is it okay if I tell you something? Because if I don’t say it now, I don’t know if I ever will,” Bucky says softly, and you nod before repositioning yourself so that you’re facing him. His gaze is still trained on his mug as he thinks carefully about his next words, afraid he might accidentally say the wrong thing.

“Tony was right. He is right, actually. When he said, we’re crushing on each other. I’ve been crushing on you since you offered me those chocolate chip cookies when Tony threatened to eat them all before anyone else had a chance to get them. It was like a switch flipped inside me back then, and I haven’t been the same since,” Bucky says, his mouth now in a line as he tells you about his feelings.

“Each time I look at you, it’s like I’m seeing an angel, and every time I hear your voice, it’s like a little piece of my soul is healing, too. I find myself drawn to you in every room and wonder what life has in store for us. But deep down inside, I know there is no ‘us’ yet. But I want there to be us. I want you, Y/N. I want you to be mine, in whatever capacity you’ll have me. If you want to stay friends, that’s okay with me, but if you want more, I’ll happily accept every bit of love you’re willing to offer me.”

Once Bucky’s done, you’re unsure what to say. What to think. What to do. You want to say that the feelings between you are mutual, that you’re in love with him and that you want nothing more than to be his, but something inside you is stopping you. So, instead of saying anything, you place your hand over his flesh limb, and his eyes slip shut at the feeling of your soft fingers against his rough hand.

“Bucky.” His name is a whisper on your lips, but it’s enough to make him look at you, to meet your gaze.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

As soon as the words leave your lips, Bucky carefully put his tea on the coffee table before hauling you onto his lap, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your waist as your lips interlock in a passionate dance. He can’t get enough of your soft mouth slotting together with his and the way his tongue fights for dominance with yours as your fingers dig into his neck. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt a strong connection with someone, and you’re happy to explore it with Bucky.

Your hips grind over his growing length of their own volition,your body looking for any bit of friction it can get. Without warning, one of Bucky’s hands slides lower until he’s cupping your ass, making you gasp into his mouth as a result. Bucky can’t help but smile into the kiss as he pulls you impossibly closer, your legs spreading just a bit further as you sink against his muscular body.

“Hmm, I’ve been wanting this - you - for so long,” he says between the kisses trailing your jaw towards your ear, his teeth nipping on your earlobe as your head lolls to the side. With every passing second, your thoughts are melting away more and more, and all that’s left inside your mind is Bucky. Soon, his other hand joins the first as he helps you grind onto him, a groan falling from his lips as he sets a perfect pace for you both.

“B-Bucky—" his name sounds more like a whine than anything else. “I—I want you.”

“But you already have me, pretty girl, ‘m right here,” he says with a teasing lilt to his voice, his hands continuing to help you grind until you’re a complete mess for him. Your shorts are ruined, your arousal soaking through them and onto the bulge in his black jeans, much to Bucky’s joy. He was wondering what it would take to get you to this point, and it turns out it won’t take much.

He smiles against the skin of your neck, where he’s taking his time to mark you with hickeys and small bitemarks, all of which leave you a bit more of a moaning, begging mess on his lap, much to his pride. When one of your hands moves away from his neck and down his torso, he quickly catches on to what you’re doing. “Someone’s a little impatient today, huh?”

“Yes, oh god, yes! I need you to touch me, Bucky. I want to feel you inside me as you make me fall apart on your cock, and I need you to fuck me like there’s no tomorrow!” Your voice sounds more breathy than usual, but every care you thought you had has gone out the window. All you want is Bucky and his cock to ride, until you’re orgasming so hard and long you can’t remember your name.

“Okay, I will. Don’t you worry about anything, okay? Let me take care of you, and I’ll give you everything you need and more,” he reassures you in a shushing voice. You nod before kissing him again, which immediately deepens before he gently helps you get up, allowing you to take off your panties and shorts, and he can take off his pants and boxershorts, too. As soon as you’re both freed from your last pieces of clothing, you hand him a condom you retrieved from the side table drawer while he took the time to undress himself.

“Hmmm, looks so thick,” you tell him as you look at it with wide eyes, wondering how he’s going to fit inside you as you’re positioning yourself on his lap once more, your legs bracketing his thicks thighs as you get comfortable.

“I know, but I’m gonna go slow. Wouldn’t want to hurt you and your perfect, sweet little pussy.” He smiles as he holds his cock in place, your pliant body sinking onto him slowly as your fingers dig into his shoulders to steady yourself. Your hiss of pleasure is audible and your face contorts at the slight sting of him stretching you, but just like he promised, Bucky is taking it slow to ensure you’ll both have the most amazing first time.

As soon as you’re fully seated on his lap, your body goes limp against him, your face tucked in the crook of his neck as you adjust to his girth, and Bucky places soft kisses on your head while praising you through it all. “You’re doing so well for me, baby. Such a good girl for me, letting me take the lead and giving you exactly what you need.”

A small smile appears on your face as you look up at him with big, doe-like eyes, and he can’t help but smile back as the back of his fingers gently caress your cheek. He may have thought you were beautiful before, but nothing compares to this moment. 

“I love you, Y/N, and I promise to take care of you with every fiber of my being,” he whispers, his lips sealing his promise against your cheek. Your eyes fall shut at his words, and his hand moves down your side until it’s on your hip again, ready for you to let him know when you’re good to go. Your bodies work in complete sync with one another with every rise and fall of your chest, and his hands guide you beautifully as you slowly sink and rise on his length.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, and it doesn’t take long for both of you to find your highs for the first time, and they’re serving as a promise of everything else that’s still to come in this lifetime. A few days ago, you and Bucky didn’t even know you felt the same about one another, but now you’re sharing the start of the rest of your lives, and it’s all thanks to Tony. Because without him, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the man of your dreams how much you love him.

Masterlist → Bucky Barnes

GIF: Source → All the other graphics you see are made by @vintagebuckybarnes