#hello oakley i love you oakley

[bluebellieart]

Doing this to you

meows

[the-name-stealer]

hello!!! Intro time!!!

Hi!!! Call me anything.

I steal names!

If you want your names removed, reblog/send ask/ privately message me! I answer anons so it’s hard to sort through who is okay with it.

Give me your name. Or someone else’s. I’m not picky.

names I’ve stolen: (will tag if they have blogs+who gave it to me if it was someone else)

Noah 1

bugg 2

Oakley :3

Rebekah (from @biggesthuskersimp589)4

Willow (^^)5

Lewis (^^^)6

Olivia(^^^^)7

all of @river-nonbinary-billcipherfan nicknames! 8

Samah! ( @that-0ne-sam)9

Bill Cipher! ( @billcipher-rpblog)10

Maryland! ( @maryland-officially)11

Hawaii! ( @hawaii-official)12

Lep! ( @leprechaun-stealerofgold)13

Squeaky! ( @postalignments)14

James! ( @more-trans-beans) 15

Pyramid Steve! (From @billcipher-rpblog, taken from @i-amsteve)16

Khriz! (From @the-lunacy-system taken from @khrizantema9869)17

Kaitlyn! ( @literal-trans-beans)18

buck! (By @17ghostsinatrenchcoat)19

Alivia! (^^)20

Cataclysm, Nibiru, Roav, 7-3, Ælr, nobaru! ( @planet-of-cataclysm)26

Holden! ( @hadoom) 27

quinn, ruin, yuri, and nikolai! ( @throat0fdelusion)31

penny, Margret, Samantha, Emu, and Warren! ( @pennyroyald)36

silver & milky! ( @official-milky-way)38

anon (anon) 39

PSR J0437-4715 & 1rxs. ( @1rxs-offical) 41

Rian (taken permanently from @river-nonbinary-billcipherfan) 42

neon! ( @neoninglitchen) 43

Katelyn ( @katiewolf) 44

banana, mango, grape, orange, melon, and lemon ( @fruit-tree-system) 50

Monaco ( @officially-monaco)51

peachy ( @importantpeachfury) 52

Colorado ( @colorado-real)53

Oregon ( @oregon-officially)54

North Carolina ( @the-fr-north-carolina-totally)55

Michigan ( @michagan-the-state)56

Violet ( @violetthediamondsblog)57

Vitreous ( @vitreous-official)58

faye! ( @f4y3w00d5)59

Misa! ( @minimuppetmisa)60

nɒʜɈƎ/γnnɒɔƧ ( @₴₵₳₦₦Ɏ₴-฿₳₵₭) 62

Liechtenstein ( @offical-liechtenstein)63

Jalapeño ( @floatingcamel23)64

Logan (permanently taken from @pennyroyald) 65

Rachel Roth ( @half-a-goat)66

Dubois (anon) 67

unknown entity of darkness ( @unknown-entity-tm) 68

Rose/Róża, Minty, Kali, Noodle, & Thing. ( from @blog-of-some-dummies given by @pennyroyald) 73

In-n-out burger ( @in-n-out-burger-official) 74

Diafain (anon) 75

🐍💍 (anon) 76

Tori Simons (anon)77

Felhair de Ziaman ( @pennyroyald) 78

Britain ( @real-british-empire) 79

Carl Fredrick Wilhelm Johannes Maximillian Napoleon Zeus von Neumann the Amazing the Great the Protector of Domestic Tranquillity, ForMemRS. (Anon) 80

Zero ( @z3r0th3h3r0) 81

Tereza (permanently taken from anon) 82

marsh,syll,silk , mallow, mochi, pastel, lucid, Celes, Limetta, maria, Felix, theo, Axel, alex, aqua, nova, aster, caelus, Doku, Aurous, ann, lucas, luca, lucean, jack, phi, ray, peace, alba, chaos, tart, cake, Led, Charlie, Lamba, Xeno! (Anon) 118

Snow ( @sn0w-o) 119

Fiona, Talia, Mable, Boa, Egg, Clise, Pancake, Hypnos, Elysia, Seraphina, Agnes, Marceline, Claire, Noelle, butterscotch, frigg, soup, strawberry, marsia, beate, makoto, sock, bug, Florian, bea, Rosalina, marinella, Finka, nada, Yuri, sky, Olivia, fischl, cinnamon, amity, Ada, Lenora, Aida, Romy, Lys, Eliana, Cherie, océane, Esther, marcille, Astrid, Clara, Lacey, flowers, natsuki, sayori, Petra, Aphrodite, hatsune, crimson, viola, Jenny, juniper, Annie, marie,Tina, kanaya, Callie, Bonnie, Velma, Phoebe, Sabrina, Tori, Natalie, Kim, love, Corey, Courtney, misty, Yasmin, Laika, Tabitha, primrose, Beatrice, circe, johnette, temmie, gumi, himiko, Anne, nessa, Sonia, akane, Diane, Miku, merlin, adagia, miyu, aradia, Illya, azure, maya, Mira, marina, Andromeda, Alya, Stella, celestia, Celeste, nova, Lyra, hope, April, pearl, amber, violet, Kirra, clover, iris, calliope, blossom, Millie, tulip, Bibi, amy, Reyna, ambrosia, page, Leah, Charlie, Lilith, ellsee, maki, edeustus, ellie, Samantha, Amelia, Tiffany, Alyssa, Luna, caoimhe, Judith, Natalie, kumatora, aurelie, Kate, moon, nerisse, serenity, Lara, Sarina, Vanessa, Monica, cherry, Helena, Sophia, tiki, luzia, Laura, Juliette, aurora, corrin, annette, Hilda, madalena, Anna, ivy, Cynthia, byleth, caeda, Alexandrea, chell, Maria, mia, Katie, Veronica, Susie, comet, Jessica, eve, Eva, vivisection, heather, Donna, winona, guinivere, Roxanne, Lillian, Octavia, étolie, Marnie, Gaia, daisy, desura, amnesia, sunny, clementine, bocchi, Cara, Agatha, Evelyn, angèle, Louisa, Camila, roseline, louane, Averie, Melina, Lena, minthe, Emma, acorn, Cassandra, bread, willow, raven, kali, Sappho, harmony, mango, Hellan, Katelyn, aria, Elyse, Marnie, blanche, frasie, Freya, Charlotte, amandine,  Vivian, Sylvia, Sarah, Jane, Ashley, Mongolia, Alice, Sydney, pikachu, Michelle, Gowan, Madeline, Ellen, Marissa, Lana, Lilly, Ella, rose, may, Ramona, melody. ( @bitch-with-some-4000-names) 363

Tera , elfilin , carol, taranza ( @tmhj) 367)

ash ( @i-give-worms) 368

Jayne bishop ( @thegreatgeodo) 369

Josie & Scarlett ( @knight-real) 371

sir A. Goetia. ( @pennyroyald) 372

swiper ( @mronion) 373

grammarly ( @unofficially-grammarly) 374

Walmart ( @walmart-the-official)375

Whataburger ( @whataburger-possibly-official) 376

Vemödalen ( @no-such-thing-as-originality) 377

Sydney (Anon) 378

roselyn (anon) 379

Saioa (anon) 380

hygiea 10 ( @hygiea-official)381

Alex, Allen, Asher, Caelus, Calxe, Dalisay, Ennui, Fae, Joy, Kai, Li, Liit, Loe, Mia, Nemo, Nihil, Noël, Oakley, Pelex, Sasha, Somnus, Tama, Ramasses, Rin, Rowan, Willow, Zephyr, Zora ( @joyliit) 401

Alexandria (taken permanently from ^^)402

James/jamie and Martin/marty ( @throat0fdelusion) 404

Caesar & Charlie ( @caesars-crazed-ramblings) 406

Cosmo or Nyx! ( @spacecatdraws) 408

Africa ( @pennyroyald) 409

choccy milk, shortcake, cakepop, mossy ( @analog-autistic) 413

Michael (anon)414

Sally (anon) 415

blue (anon)416

William Shakespeare (<-never heard of the guy/j) ( @shakespeare-official-account) 417

Haejin Min ( @the-name-gifter) 418

fae ( @the-name-asker) 419

vee ( @urlocaldisaster) 420 (hehe)

Dr. Graves ( @the-gimmick-scp-researcher) 421

Zeus (anon) 422

Copi-Copi, Elemento, Adjetivo, Mente en Blanco, Chaucha, Yo Soy, Calugoso, Duquesa, Reina, Coliforme, Tepo-Tepo, Yo no Fui, Fierro Malo, Palmerita, Neumatex, Cortachurro, Etcétera, Maletín, Duque, Guasón, Jefe, Moneda, Cucky, Pelusa, Tía, Legui, Reality, Chester, Chu, Ro, Playita, Palmera, Señor, Re Frito, Pescado, Chamuyo, Calendario, James Bond, Rata, Cabeza de Chaya, Neumático, Repetido, Añico, Rucia, Gonzo, Chino, Cortéz, Albertito, Also, Cabecita, Bigote and Mutante (anon)

jaiden and blook ( @blookdoeswhatever, @jaidentheautisticwurm) 424

jaya (anon)425

425

6/50 states

Items:

frog

worms x3

an Olive Garden I guess???

(Ooc: ^^the blog persona)

(Ooc: the blog persona (not mod) is pansexual, pangender, and demisexual! They like sewing and stealing names.)

(if you see me put your name on my main no you didn’t

my main is @buggz-owlz)

names that are given to us will be under #name giver

and names we steal will be under #name stealer

all asks will be under #name stealer questions

colors are just random colors we associate with the name given.

that’s all for now! Bye!

[i-care-4u]

more central cee pls !

FACE TO FACE | CENTRAL CEE

PAIR: CENTRAL CEE X READER

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED | MASTERLIST

TAGGED: @playboykenz

A/N: to the two anons that asked for more central cee, i hope you enjoy this little fic i wrote!

FACE TO FACE SERIES: jack harlow | central cee

-

as the cameras were getting ready, oakley couldn’t help but to giggle about the fact that his girlfriend was going to interview him.

this was something you loved doing with oakley at home. coming from work, you and oakley would be having long nights together, answering and giggling about each other’s answers. this time, the public was going to watch this, and oakley felt comfortable sharing his answers to them.

you introduced yourself to everyone, “hello gq, i’m y/n l/n, and today i’ll be asking a set of questions to central cee.”

in front of you, there was a laptop, with oakley being in front of your screen. you start the call, “hi cench.”

oakley blushed, “hi y/n.”

“today we get to share to everyone what we do at home,” you show the cameras the set of cards filled with questions, “the couple’s quiz!”

-

☆ FIRST QUESTION - “HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF IN THREE WORDS?”

“three words,” oakley starts saying words that came in mind, “focused, candid….”

you nod, using this as a sign to keep going. “come on, one more, one more!”

oakley immediately went back to thinking mode. you lay your head down, trying not to burst into laughter. you raised your head afterwards, “you want me to help you out?”

“of course,” oakley said, with a charming smile at you.

“cee.”

“yes?”

with a straight face, you admit, “i think you’re very cute.”

“focused, candid, and cute it is.”

☆ SECOND QUESTION - “FIVE ESSENTIALS?”

for this question, the staff brought in the items, and oakley removes his chain in order to showcase it to everyone. “obviously, we have to go with this one first.”

you tried not to brag, but you let it slide since you’re his girlfriend, “picked by the best.”

oakley nods in agreement, “mhm.”

he then showcased the watch on his wrist, “another one picked by y/n, and it’s this watch.”

he then explains three other objects: headphones, crackers, and a book.

“i have two headphones - one i use for the gym and the other during my spare time,” oakley pulled a bag of crackers close to the camera, “these crackers were gifted by my mum in christmas, they’re so delicious.”

he smiled as he showed everyone a book. the book was very special to him, as it was another gift - this time it was from you to him. “this book is gifted by y/n, and i love to carry it on the road. i still remember those words, telling me it’s a reminder of love.”

“it’s like you’re carrying a piece of me, you know?”

☆ THIRD QUESTION - “WHAT’S THE MOST ROMANTIC THING YOU’VE EVER DONE?”

sarcastically, oakley answered, “i’m a hopeless romantic…”

you jokingly glared at him, “really?”

“i don’t know man, i’m transitioning, i’m changing. this is all hard for me like i’m trying to think-”

“boo hoo,” you mocked, “it was so hard for you. why don’t you just grow up?”

oakley admits, “it’s easier said than done.”

☆ FOURTH QUESTION - “WHAT’S YOUR SELF CARE ROUTINE?”

oakley repeated the question, “my self care routine?”

you looked down at the card, “yes.”

“my self care routine consists of sleeping, waking up to do my skin care, going to the studio,” oakley gets into detail, “people don’t tend add that, but music is a form of self care. it’s enjoyable and arguably, a form of therapy.”

“i can see where you’re coming from, and i agree,” you comment, “music is universal.”

☆ FIFTH QUESTION - “FAVORITE LYRIC?”

oakley shrugs, “god knows.”

“i don’t know that one.”

“do you swear on the shore?” oakley asked you.

“yeah,” you nod, “shit.”

he laughs, and you added, “crumbs.”

oakley continued laughing at your nonsense, “what?”

you lied, “i swear all the time, okay?”

oakley knew it wasn’t true at all, leaving it with a simple response. “okay,” he shook his head, “it’s not that attractive though is it?”

as a joke, you tried to impress your boyfriend, slamming your hands on the table. “okay, i don’t swear!”

☆ SIXTH QUESTION - “WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE RED CARPET LOOK FROM ME?”

oakley leaned on the chair. “ooh, this is a tough one. am i allowed to say my favorite runway look?”

“nope.”

“just red carpet.”

“yes.” you got close to the webcam, and the only thing that showed up on oakley’s screen was your eyes and forehead. “…say it!”

he picked his top five looks of yours, “as of right now, i would have to go with your mtv video music awards from 2022, the met gala look from 2022, and last year and this year’s grammys look.

“and you got to thank law roach for the styling.” you start giving him a round of applause.

☆ SEVENTH QUESTION - “WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE CELEBRITY ENCOUNTER?”

oakley recounts, “apologies y/n, but i got to tell the funny one.”

you blankly stare at him, “the one where we met drake?”

“yes,” oakley smirked. he starts telling the story behind it, “so we went to this festival, and drake decided to invite us to the after party. during the party, he was on his phone scrolling on instagram, and that’s when he showed me a picture of y/n. he was like, who is this, she’s so pretty? that’s when i answered him, saying that it was y/n, who was right there. she didn’t say anything, but rather laughed about the whole situation.”

you add, “he was definitely drunk there, and he was surprised by my appearance at the party afterwards.”

☆ EIGTH QUESTION - “WHAT’S SOMETHING ABOUT ME THAT PEOPLE DON’T KNOW?”

“i think people should pay attention to what i’m about to say,” oakley exposes your hobby, “but y/n loves gardening.”

you playfully rolled your eyes at him, believing that it’s not that big of deal as he makes. “why are you making it such a big deal? leave me and my plants out of this!”

“i find it very cute though,” oakley visualizes, “walking outside to see you watering your plants. i can name some from the top of my head.”

you crossed your arms, having a smug look. “oh really?” you scoffed.

“yeah.”

oakley starts listing names of your plants, causing you to be left with a speechless face that was soon filled with laughter.

reflecting at this question, you also found it cute that oakley remembered your not-so-secret hobby of gardening. the way he remembered the names of your plants indicated his love language.

☆ NINTH QUESTION - “WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOU WERE ME FOR A DAY?”

“what would y/n do?” oakley asked himself as you listened.

as soon as he came up with the idea, he shared it in front of everyone, “if i were you for a day, i think i would head down to the studio and try to make music.”

“smart,” you recall, “i’ve always wanted to make music for a long time, but i think we’re good as a model for now.”

“new date idea,” oakley states, “make music with y/n.”

“that sounds lovely.”

☆ TENTH QUESTION - “WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU GIVE TO EVERYONE RIGHT NOW?”

“this one’s a bit cliche but my thing is live yours,” oakley said, “that’s what’s inspiring innit.”

you agree to his piece of advice, “so basically express yourself?”

“correct.”

-

the tenth questioned marked the end of the interview and was left with one more scene to record.

the cameras starts recording oakley, “if you want to see me ask y/n these questions face to face, go to vogue.com.”

“thank you to gq for being involved in this conversation between central cee and i. thank you for watching!” you waved to the camera. the video cues to a white screen, placing the names of the people involved.

after the interview, oakley waited for you to exit the studio. when you saw him, you gave him a tight hug. “you were amazing!”

“thank you!” oakley smiled, “you know what sounds more amazing? bringing you to the studio right now.”

“you and your bad flirting skills,” you sarcastically rolled your eyes at him, “but a studio date sounds nice right now.”

[jointherebellion215]

Worth

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: You're swept off your feet by one Major John C. Egan, and you love every second of it. Sequel to Birdie.

Word Count: 3.0k

Tags: female!reader, mechanic!reader, women™, period typical sexism & misogyny, fun date night, dude w/ a small dick gets rightfully called out, mostly just fun date stuff, tons of fluff

A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for the kind words on Birdie. I really appreciate everyone's comments, they warm my heart right up. I almost didn't write this, but the thought of having these two smooch it up was too good to pass up. I also completely headcanon that Bucky has the biggest sweet tooth, oops. As always, I'd be most gracious if you were to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog :)

Read the OC Version of this story on AO3!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, please don't copy, repost, or translate my writing without explicit prior permission. Don't even think about it, AI!

A knock at the door brings butterflies to your stomach.

“Oh, he’s here!” Irene shouts, which is immediately met with your shushing, as well as Teresa’s.

You nervously pat your hair and check over your outfit for the evening. You’re spending your second day’s leave on a date with Bucky Egan. He had approached you last night at the pub, asking if you wanted to grab dinner. Alone. 

You, of course, said yes.

Teresa and Irene go to answer the door while you gather your purse, stuffing it with your essentials. Your friends greet him at the same time, sounding like twins.

“Good evening, Major!”

“Good evening, Major!”

You hear his deep voice reply, only a small bit of surprise leaking into his voice.

“Good evening, ladies. Is Birdie around? We have dinner plans.”

“I’m here! Hi.” You step around the wall that hides you from the front door, taking a look at the man you’d been crushing on for months. He stands tall and confident in his neatly pressed uniform, hat covering most of his dark curls. His mouth gapes, giving you a once over and attempting to speak up.

“I- You-…Uh, wow. Y-you look…” But any sweet words he attempts to say are interrupted by Irene, who comes in hot with a manic smile.

“Did you know that my daddy taught me how to shoot when I was just a little girl? I’m real good at it. They call me Oakley, back home, cause of how great a marksman I am. Y’know, like Annie Oakley?” She stepped forward, puffing up her chest and giving a frightening grin to Major Egan. You and Teresa exchanged confused looks, not knowing quite where she was going with this.

“I’m not allowed a sidearm or a rifle over here, but I’m sure I could easily borrow one from any of the fellas on base should you break my best friend’s hea—”

“OKAY! We don’t wanna be late, all the tables might be taken soon. Gotta go. Love you. Bye!” You quickly shove past the blonde, stepping over the threshold. You take Bucky’s hand and practically drag his tall form down the hallway, away from your best friend’s attempt at a shovel talk.

You faintly hear Teresa’s well wishes to you amid the aggressively whispered conversation she has with Irene. The last words you hear before the elevator door closes in front of you are a heavily accented protest from Irene.

“What? I was just trying to..!”

The pair of you stand in the elevator in silence. A slight rocking indicates the starting motion of it, which snaps you back to reality. Looking down, you realize that you’re still holding hands with Bucky. You quickly separate your hand from his, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Your friends seem nice.”

Your head snaps to glance at Bucky, who is already looking at you. A sincere smile graces his face, not a hint of mocking in his eyes. 

“I’m glad you have them looking out for you.” 

You feel your face start to cool down, making you comfortable enough to respond. 

“They drive me nuts sometimes. But they’re the best friends I could ever ask for.” You mean every word. 

You see John nod, so you turn back to look to the elevator doors in front of you. An awkward pause.

“You look beautiful.”

Another pause. “What?”

“It’s what I meant to say earlier. That you look beautiful. Because you do.”

Heat quickly returns to your cheeks, spreading throughout your whole upper body. You give a bashful smile, peeking up at him through your lashes. You gaze into his eyes for a moment.

“Thank you, Johnny. You look quite handsome yourself.” The Major adjusts his hat, covering just the tips of his ears. He returns your gaze with an uncharacteristically nervous grin. The floor gives a slight rattle, elevator door and gate opening to reveal the lobby.

John straightens up, holding out his arm for you to take. You tentatively weave your hand within the crook of his elbow. He gently presses his arm in, bringing your body closer to his. 

You meet your other hand in its position and let Bucky lead you out of the hotel and into the evening air.

✨

“That was so delicious! I never knew that a roast could be so tender…”

The pair of you were walking arm-in-arm down a cobblestone street, just having finished dinner. It was a wonderful time. Bucky had been the perfect gentleman, but made his interest in you clear without being sleezy.

He was entirely focused on you the whole time. He asked questions and was genuinely invested in your answers. Conversation came to the two of you like a duck to water. After a shared glass of wine, his hand had slowly inched towards yours. Soon he had cradled it in his, like you were a precious commodity, until your meals arrived. You could hardly keep your eyes off of each other long enough to even promptly acknowledge the wait staff, which you were sure annoyed some and amused others.

Safe to say, John Egan was doing his best to sweep you off your feet.

You hadn’t discussed any other plans for after dinner, but the walk you’re on now is nice enough to give you reason to stick close together.

Bucky nods along, “And that fruit tart? Incredible.”

You laugh, leaning into your date, “I knew that would be your favorite part. You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, don’t you?” 

Bucky holds his hands up with a mischievous smirk on his face, “Hey, I plead the fifth.” 

“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen someone so adamant on having some coffee with his sugar.” You continue to tease him. He nudges you playfully, giving a smooth grin in return.

“Hey, we’re in a war! If you see something sweet,” Bucky surprises you by picking you up and twirling you around, getting a full belly laugh from you as he sets you back on the ground.

“You gotta snatch it up and enjoy it while you can.”

You have a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about food. 

By that point, you’re leaning against his front, hands on both of his shoulders. The moment has shifted into something else. Something different. His eyes roam your face, eventually stopping on your lips. Just as he starts to lean in, the moment is shattered by the sound of instruments starting up nearby. Bucky flinches, cursing the ill-timed disruption. 

Oblivious to his turmoil, you gasp in delight and look around for the source of the music.

“Do you hear that? I think there’s a band playing!” 

You spot a few people walk into what looks like a club. It barely a stone’s throw from where you’re both currently standing. 

Bucky quickly recovers, “Should we grab a drink? Have a dance or two?”

You beam at him, and his heart stutters in his chest once more. After you give a nod, you place your hand in his arm and let him lead you into the club.

The two of you step into the establishment, and the energy is almost electric. There are mills of people walking about, drinking, talking, laughing. There’s a great score more on the dance floor, hopping and jiving along to the band you now knew you’d heard earlier. There weren’t a lot of uniforms present, but the ones that were were RAF.

Bucky guides you to the bar, hand on your back until you're both sat on a pair of stools. Your drinks are quickly ordered and served, so your night continues. You both allow yourselves to talk shop for a moment, so your conversation turns towards what you were working on before your leave. As you get to discussing the more intricate parts of your project, you hear a scoff from behind you.

John quickly looks over your shoulder, spotting the culprit.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”

You turn around to find a uniformed man taking a sip of his whiskey, RAF logo plastered on the lapel. He mockingly shakes his head, placing the glass down on the bar.

“No, no problem at all.”

Bucky, ever the confrontationist, persists. “It seems like there’s a problem here.”

You gesture towards the man, silently indicating that he was welcome to speak his mind. 

“It’s not enough that you Yanks come over to our country, destroy our pubs and disrespect our women with your recklessness. But you can’t even keep your own women in check! She should be at home, away from the war, for God’s sake. Taking care of the house and the children. You know, doing feminine duties.”

You had heard all of this before, so it was no skin off your back to hear it again. You roll your eyes and decided to just ignore him. Then the man started to laugh, as if he was in on a private joke.

“I mean, a female mechanic? Between that and your daytime missions, it’s no wonder you’re all dropping like flies.”

You let out an exhale, letting the air stream out through your nose. In your periphery, you see Bucky start to stand— to, no doubt, escalate the situation. You stop him with a hand on his chest. He sits back down, looking between you and the man who had just insulted you. You set your glass down, hopping off the stool and giving a slow clap. 

“I’m so glad to know that some people still live in the Stone Age, where apparently all a woman is good for is cooking and giving birth! Thank you so much for showing us exactly what a lack of education and individual thought looks like! See where we are—over in modern times— women can do whatever the hell they want. That includes fixing your planes and jeeps, operating your radios, driving your trucks, and even training your allies to use machine artillery!”

The RAF soldier realizes what he’s gotten himself into but is backed into a corner of the bar as you pace forward with each scathing word that leaves your mouth.

“Never mind all the bullshit you just spouted about what a woman is fit to do. I think that women can decide for ourselves exactly what we can and cannot do. As for my countrymen, I’m proud to serve alongside them. They go up every day willing to sacrifice themselves so that the rest of us don’t have to. They’re gonna be remembered for their bravery and grit. They’re not cowardly enough to hem and haw and stick up their noses at the thought of a woman doing something other than popping out a kid and ironing their pleats.”

The music has dulled down, but you don’t have the complete attention of the club. That gives you the courage to say your final piece.

“Never you mind. I'm confident that the men I serve with, including the man I have with me tonight, aren’t anything like you. Thank God for that! They're not so…” You take an exaggerated glance towards the man’s crotch, scrunching up your nose. “…small-minded.”

Leaving the gaping man behind, you turn to Bucky and ask if he wants to go get some air. He picks his jaw up off the floor quick enough to nod and lead you back outside into the street.

Hey, hanging around Irene pays off sometimes.

As you step out into the night air, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You feel John step up behind you, voice carefully asking,

“Hey, are you okay? Birdie?”

You continue to stand with your eyes closed. You just needed a moment.

“I’ve come too far to let anyone’s opinion of me, or my career choices, effect me.”

You open your eyes and look over your shoulder at your date. He gives an understanding nod, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. You lean back into him, closing your eyes once more, letting him comfort you for the time being.

“Sorry if I ruined the night.”

You can feel a rumble from Bucky’s chest as he chuckles. “Oh, this night’s far from ruined. In fact, that was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

One of your eyes pops open. You crane your neck to peek at him, “Even better than the time you told me about Curt knocking out an RAF officer in one punch?”

“Yep.”

“Winning that bet to get your bicycle?”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Better than your fruit tart from dinner?”

His smile widens, “Okay, let’s not get crazy here. Maybe it was top ten.”

“Top ten?!” You playfully gasp, turning around to face him again. You rest your hands on your hips, “What’s a girl gotta do to rank above a fruit tart around here?”

“Well…” You scoff and shove Bucky at the cheeky smirk he gives you. You’re quickly distracted by the sound of the band inside starting up again. This time with a familiar tune.

“Oh, your song’s on, Johnny!”

Bucky tosses his hat to the side, steps back and gives a very unserious bow. He then sneers with a hyper-nasal impression of the RAF officer you’d just affronted.

“My lady.”

You roll your eyes and give a joking curtsy in return, taking his offered hand. He pulls you into a proper stance for a waltz, which is a complete offset to the jive song that reaches your ears. You both jokingly hop along in the awkward squared formation for a moment, giggling to yourselves. 

He gently pushes on your hip while outstretching his hand, so you take the cue and twirl until you’re both standing at each other’s fingertips. A quick grasp of your hand and a pull twirls you right back into his arms, bumping into his chest. The moment made you burst into laughter, leaning into your dance partner until the song ends. 

The next song is a much slower tune, giving Bucky the chance to pull you in close. You hum along to the band playing, sidling up to the Major’s chest. He places a hand in yours and loops the other around your waist. Your free arm gently drapes under his and over his shoulder, encouraging a lean into his firm body. You both give a slow sway, leading each other back and forth in the quiet echoes of the street. Closer than before.

“You know, I’ve been plucking up the courage to ask you to dinner for a while now.” 

You lay your head on the knuckles of your hand that rest on his shoulder, responding lowly. 

“Really?”

You continue to sway.

“Yeah.”

You’re curious, so you ask, “What made you finally do it?”

He thinks on the answer for a moment, almost chewing on his thoughts. John is not the kind of person to typically contemplate over an answer, so you gift him all the time in the world to respond. You recognize how important that is to him.

“I… I think that it was a lot of little things.” He pulls you in closer. “Your smile, your eyes, the way you talk about the things you love. Birdie, you are so personable with everyone you come into contact with and it’s so magnetic.” 

The flow of compliments shocks you, not expecting this barrage of details to come from the man in front of you. But you dance on anyways.

“But I really think what did me in was yesterday, at the pub. When you looked at me during your song.”

You remember. You know exactly what he was talking about. Whatever he must have felt, you know that you felt it too.

He continues to speak in an intimate tone as you sway along in the street.

“I felt my entire life click into place. It was like everything suddenly made sense. I didn’t have to wonder about what my life was going to be like in five, ten, fifteen years. Because I knew.”

He pulls back to look you in the eye, and the amount of vulnerability in his eyes floors you. 

“I’ll be honest, it scared the shit outta me. It terrified me.”

You understand what he meant. This is all new to him, as it is to you. You pull his forehead to touch yours, noses gently brushing one another, as you offer your best words of comfort in that moment.

“Sometimes, you have to do what scares you the most to find out what’s worth doing.” 

He cups your face, letting his lips ghost against yours. He made his intentions clear, but it was up to you to decide how you move forward.

So, you close your eyes and take the leap.

Your lips press into his, hands stroking the arms that were framing your face. He immediately responds in kind, lips moving in tandem with yours. You melt into him at the reciprocated motion. His arms soon move to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Your arms reach around his neck, hands resting at the nape of his neck. As he deepens the kiss, you run your hands up, down, and through the dark curls on the back of his head, earning a groan from your partner.

A burst of warmth sparks from within your very being, traveling further and further through your body until you’re consumed by flames. Half of your mind is scrambling to make sense of reality, and the other half is completely consumed by passion.

After a moment, you reluctantly separate from one another, panting to catch your breath. It’s as if the world stopped spinning when you connected, and then started up again when you parted. 

Giving a nervous look to the man you just kissed, you’re elated when he gives you an ear-to-ear grin. He grasps one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. His other hand comes up to cup your face again, thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.

You stay silent for the time being, letting the moment marinate. He brings up your joined hands to kiss the back of your palm. Your heart jumps with joy at the sight.

Bucky gives an exhale before breaking the silence.

“You are most definitely worth it.”

[civetcider]

Ook ook

HELLO i’m cider, an artist in my early 20s and i mostly draw my anthro animal OCs, i have a hard time remembering to make OC tags or the sort so sorry if you wanted artwork of one in particular, i keep things all clean on my Toyhouse tho so if you want more info on them they have a lil bit on there!

i like cartoons, collecting things, crafts, camping, animals, some video games here and there and i watch a lotta youtube

i love hearing what people think of my work so feel free to send asks or DMs or anything! oakley and traver stuff can be found here

click this here for my links  https://civetcider.carrd.co/

FUCK TERFS AND TRANSPHOBES

Commissions n art trades closed sorryyy 🦍

[a-bucket-in-the-void]

hello

i’m Oakley (or Bucket if you’d like) and i use he/him

i’m kinda just a dude on here

i reblog stuff from jrwi, hermitcraft, the life series, empires smp, rats smp, honestly anything you can think of that’s adjacent to hermitcraft, but what i’m really known for are my low effort shit posts. on a good day i can pop like fifteen of those out, each with two to five notes

um also i feel like i should say that i am definitely completely normal about skizzleman definitely

so anyway, stay if you’d like, honestly i don’t really care, unless you’re a cool mutual in law in which case i am super cool and awesome and you should totally follow me back :]

tagging system under the cut

now that i’m thinking about it it’s atrocious but i don’t really care enough to fix it unprompted so if you do care feel free to send me an ask about it (anon is always there if you need it)

#shouting into the void - id like to say this is my text tag but i really just use this whenever i make a post and it doesn’t contain art or an ask. under this you’ll find pretty much any kind of post under the sun as well as some pretty good shit posts buried under other not so good shit post

#showing the void my art - this would be my art tag, if i ever used it. please picture it covered in cob webs. under here are some of my doodles and now that i’m thinking about it i could probably tag my knitting progress under this as well

#the void talks back - this is my ask tag. under here is pretty much a bunch of me hanging out with my friends on here

and now for my less official tags that you still might want to know

#red dungeon - i play in a dnd campaign with a couple people on here. this is a communal tag for the campaign, so not just an original thing for me. not everything related to the campaign is tagged under this, it’s really just some more recent official posts

and speaking of…

#radio doe - this is my character for said campaign. like the other tag there’s not a whole lot under this but it’s there if you’d like to see it. also feel free to ask me about her or the campaign, i’d love to talk about it

um i also have another oc tagged with the ‘unwitness protection program’ if you’d like to go hunt for that but it’s really not properly tagged with anything

um also if like to say that i am very socially awkward so just uh yeah

if i interact with you and i seem a bit weird or off putting that’s probably why

semi related to that, sometimes i experience something i call ‘running out of words’ where i just am too tired to properly word things. sometimes that will take the form of mentioning things seemingly out of the blue or things that may seem kinda jarring to the conversation, some times that will take the form of just not talking at all or not having the words to express what i’m thinking. it’s just a thing that happens with me sometimes

uh i think that’s it

enjoy your stay i guess

[conivolos]

hello coni conivolos

i want to do something mcyt/hermitcraft related but i dont want to just scroll tumblr for hours so do you happen to have any au or fic suggestions??

anyway you're amazing and awesome and epic and i hope you have an amazing day byeeee

oakley hi!!!! i have. many suggestions but ima keep it to five of em o7

1- next gen au by appleblocks!!! its like. in game canon mcyt children aged up in the life series!! i havent gotten around to reading it yet but ohhh my god appys art is so gorgeous. ao3 and tumblr <3

2- legit anything by the dear beloved playname-player-of-games. so in love with his au s and fics <33

3- glad gladumfs platonic scarian manifesto!!!

4- boatem knights au by hopepetal and applestruda!!!

5- https://archiveofourown.org/works/40987242 <- was reading this last night!!! love it sm. not emmeding but its an eldritch horror etho fic!!! im an ethogirl at heart what can i say /silly

also i uh have some mcyt fics up on my ao3 if ur interested :) (linked in my pinned :D)

[imagoddamnonionmason]

For Nanette:

💔 - Exes

📎 - Siblings/close family

And for Jodie:

✨ - Children (current or future)

🍑 - Notable flings

TARO!! Hello honey!!

Ok, let's do this!

Nanette

💔 - Exes

There is no-one notable! I think she may have gone on a few dates during Uni but none of them ever went past the first or second date; there wasn't a spark or anything. Unless you talk about Grant, but he's not really an ex, more an obsessed stalker.

📎 - Siblings/close family

For Nanette, she is an only child, but she is very close with her sister-in-law Lesley who she met in Uni (it's how her and John met) and has a very good, close relationship with her other SIL Bridget (youngest sister) and mother-in-law, Moraig.

Nanette is also very close with her parents, Wilbur and Adaline Oakley - they were a very happy family growing up and they spoiled her with a lot of love and support!

Jodie

✨ - Children (current or future)

So, where I am in my writing of the canon world for Jodie and Frank, Ashley has not yet been born. However, Ashley Woods is born in the year of 1983, then the following year ends up being a lil baby bridesmaid for her Mom!

Given Jodie becomes a mother later on in life, there are higher risks with pregnancy and Ashley was not planned - there's a whole thing I have planned. Jodie never thought she could be blessed with a child, never thought she'd be worth a child - there's even some guilt there, some worry that she'll mess up. For a while after birth, Jodie can't look at Ashley. She didn't have a name for a few weeks. Jodie really went through it, but in the end, she would literally kill for that kid.

Ashley does have a bio, which is linked in my pinned bio on my blog! If she seems like an interesting figure, go have a read! I love her just as much as I love Jodie and she's a wonderful girl!

🍑 - Notable flings

Unfortunately, it's Keith.

Mistakes were made, ok? She regrets it and would rather actually burn off her skin than ever think about what they did together ever again.

Although, I'll say that for her it was very real emotions.

For Keith? A manipulation tactic.

[prolix-yuy]

Whiskey, Dark and Deep

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: In the short time you've known Jack Daniels, he's disappointed you three times.

Warnings: M, violence, blood, injuries, gunfights, so so so much yearning, full on cowboy tropes.

Notes: Hello @blueeyesatnight! I'm your not-so-secret-anymore Santa for the Pedrostories Secret Santa! When I got your prompt I instantly was so excited because I adore Jack and I love old westerns. My personal favorite is Open Range with Kevin Costner and Annette Benning (and a baby Diego Luna!), so I've taken some inspiration from that film. Not necessary to watch for context, but I highly recommend it if you haven't.

I've kept our reader character fairly non-descriptive save for the fact that she is "not a young lady" and referenced as being older. This is a nod to the movie that I always loved and has stayed with me. I've also included Diego Luna as the faceclaim for the character of his same name.

Happy Holidays!

Since you’ve met Jack Daniels, he’s disappointed you three times. 

The first time was shortly after he rolled into town, a shadow clinging to his face and whispers trailing his bootprints. Most unsavory types don’t come into your general store, but he needed supplies, and discretion. You were willing to give him both. 

It was clear he was a gunslinger, heavy pistols hanging from narrow hips and a nasty rifle slung across his back. But the way he tipped his black hat low, the polite thanks and quiet requests that fell from his chapped lips, made you wonder if that’s all Jack Daniels had to offer. He seemed more than quick-fingered and sharp-eyed, and cool-headed was a trait rare to most outlaws. 

“Thankin’ you kindly, ma’am,” he said as you bundled his goods together, hands that spanned the parcels easily dropping the requested coin on your counter. He’d avoided your eye over the last few trips in, but as he turned to leave he caught your gaze, and your heart dropped.

Jack Daniels may have worn the countenance of a lawless man, but his eyes held gentleness and pain that reached for you in silence. 

“There’s a quieter place to dine on the edge of town,” you blurted out, ordering your hands to lay still on the countertop. “Should you need a drink, or a hot meal before leaving.”

“Is it an establishment you frequent, ma’am?” he asked, your heart fluttering unexpectedly at the richness of his voice. 

“I may tonight, should the company be kind,” you replied, jutting your chin and standing tall. You may be no Annie Oakley, but you were old enough and strong enough for few to cross you in town. And you were bold enough to keep his stare when he skimmed his eyes over your simple dress, your practical style. No young lady, but still fair enough in the mirror that his appraisal did not make you shirk away. He nodded once, leaving to gather his horse outside. A whoosh of air left your lungs soon after.

You waited for him at your usual table, Mathilda passing by often to start, then less as the night grew darker and your hopes dimmed to nothing. What did you expect from a man you only met a handful of times? Paying your bill, trying to ignore her sympathetic smile, you returned home telling yourself you expected nothing from the mysterious man and should not give this evening another thought. 

And that was the first time Jack Daniels disappointed you.

The second time Jack Daniels disappointed you, it was preceded by blood.

The Golden Circle gang was causing trouble, news coming in from neighboring towns of their deeds. Robberies, saloon shootouts, women treated roughly, men left to die in the dirt. A cloud was looming over your town and the days brought dread, listening for the thunder of hooves. 

A stranger would have been met with hostility at this time, but when Jack Daniels burst in with a boy barely old enough to shave slumped against him, you didn’t hesitate.

“Bring him here,” you ordered briskly, leading them to the back room you called home. Stretched on your dining table, blood blooming on the white doilies your grandmother gifted you, the boy wheezed and groaned while you sent for the doctor. Jack stood vigil at the boy’s side, a curious shadow that did not move, or eat, or rest. 

“Who is the boy?” you asked, eyes on the gasping youth. His flop of brown hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, thin angular face pinched with pain. When you go to soothe it later he’ll wheeze his thanks, and call you his angelic nurse. You’ll tell him you’re too old for his japery.

“Diego,” Jack said, his voice a rumble of far-off thunder.

“How did he get into this much trouble?” you asked, the doctor finding the worst of the wounds - twin bullet holes in his abdomen. Your hands clenched against your roiling stomach. 

“Ran his mouth a bit too loud too close to some who took offense.” Jack’s voice remained neutral but the tick in his jaw chilled your heart. 

“The Circle?” you asked, voice quiet as if to say their name would conjure them out of thin air. He didn’t speak, but the contemplative way he chewed on his mustache was all the confirmation you needed. Silence blanketed the room as Diego slipped into fitful sleep.

“Only time will tell,” was the doctor’s cryptic answer before exiting your home. While you were watching over the boy, your store had filled with lawmen and able hands, the steady hum of conversation rising and falling outside the little room. Men you knew well - Denton, Percy, Charley - checked on you and shot distrustful glances at the strange man filling one of your dining chairs. 

When Diego’s chest finally fell into a gentler rhythm, Jack moved to join the men and their plans outside your room. Before he did, he wrapped a hand around your shoulder, urging your eyes up to his. Again, the kindness and desperation you saw before lingered in his stare, but now you saw it threaded through with gratefulness.

“Thank you for opening your home to us. I didn’t know where to take him. But…I remembered you.” His thumb came up to softly stroke your cheek, knuckle tucked under your chin. You couldn’t remember the last time a man put his hands on you with this much reverence. 

“Will you stay?” you asked, and once more you steeled yourself against the growing desire to have this man near you, heat burrowing into your chest and taking root. 

“I’m not the right man for that, ma’am. I know all too well what the Golden Circle is about, and if this town is in their sights you should get as far away from here as you can. They’ll blow in and blow out, but you can be miles away. Safe.” There was no lie on his lips, but maybe a flicker of fear in his eyes. 

“This is my home. I’ll stand by it until I can’t any longer.”

Jack smiled ruefully.

“I reckon I shouldn’t have expected anything less.”

He turned to leave the room.

“Will you stay, Jack?” you asked once more. He paused at your door before turning back.

“For you.”

It’s a promise that fueled you through the night, watching over Diego as he pulled in and out of consciousness. The murmur of voices faded, men peeking in to give you well wishes and tell you to stay inside. You bade them good night, catching some hours of sleep in the dining chair Jack occupied for a time. It would be more comfortable if he still occupied it. Diego slept easier as the sun rose, his chest less staccato and his brow finally smooth. Leaving him to venture into your shop, you found Percy standing guard at your door.

“Any news?” you asked when you brought him a hot cup of coffee. He sipped it with a sigh, dewy drops lingering on his sable mustache. 

“No word on the Circle yet. Seems they might be having their fun somewhere else. At least it gives us time to plan.” Percy quieted for a beat as you watched the road for the man you hoped would stride back to you. A polite cough interrupted your search.

“Jack Daniels left town in the early morning. No word as to why.” Percy at least had the decency to not look at your face when he told you this. You’re not sure you would have been able to control the crumple, the shine in your eyes.

And that is the second time Jack Daniels disappointed you.

The third time Jack Daniels disappointed you was not far off, though the days that ticked by felt like an eternity. Weeks passed with no sign of the Golden Circle, every noise a precursor to hands on weapons and windows shuttered closed. You busied yourself with caring for Diego, who in turn told you what he knew of Jack and what had led to his stomach being filled with lead.

Diego had run into Jack at a saloon, and while grumbling about his presence being more a nuisance than anything, did not shoo the boy away. Instead they rode together, Diego unsure if he’d wake one day and Jack would be gone, secretly surprised when another morning rose on the man’s shoulders hunched over the fire. Little by little Jack opened up, told Diego he’d been in a bad crowd for a time and was looking for a fresh start. That he’d loved and lost and then lost even more. That he felt like trouble was following him like rifle crosshairs, waiting to strike when he dared enjoy the sun on his back. 

His eyes made more sense now.

The doctor declared Diego out of the woods, but to rest until his strength returned. You made him up a little bed in your kitchen and he made himself useful at the store. An extra pair of hands were a dream for you, and to have someone young and sharp-witted to banter with lifted years of loneliness off your shoulders. 

But the storm clouds still clouded the horizon, electricity crackling in the air as the town waited for the other shoe to drop. Thankfully, a messenger came first.

Jack Daniels rode into town one morning, dark jacket whipping behind him as he dismounted. Your heart pounded as you watched him from the store window, his broad shoulders entering the sheriff’s office. Busying yourself with menial tasks and chatting with Diego, you tried not to think about your anger, your hurt, the two words souring your tongue. 

For you.

Why did he leave? Was a town in peril not enough? Were you not enough? With your aging face and your work-hardened hands and your careful heart? Diego knew better than to speak of his return, your stony silence proof of your indifference at Jack’s return. 

He didn’t believe it, but he respected you too much to say otherwise.

Diego asked to step out at noon, not giving a reason why beyond his eyes darting towards the sheriff’s office. Suppressing a sigh, you gave him his leave. He almost broke the Sheriff’s door in his excitement, and through your window you watched Diego stand, gasping, in front of Jack. Words were exchanged, his unruly locks ruffled, before his eyes darted to your store, Jack’s slowly following them. You quickly turned your back, feigning an inventory check to cover your nosiness, the hot prick of tears well hidden.

He didn’t come to you until the shop was closed, your hand on the knob to draw the door shut. Melting forth from the shadows, you almost screamed. Some days you managed to convince yourself he was a dream, a ghost that wandered into your life before dissipating into the ether. And with his shoulders filling your door and his warm brown eyes apologetic, you allowed him in once more.

Refusing to speak first, you busied yourself with putting on the kettle, soothed by the steady chop-thunk of Diego cutting wood outside. Jack sat in the same dining chair he held vigil in weeks before, his elbows braced on the table and hat respectfully removed. Without the shadow darkening his face he looked so tired, shoulders sagging under the heavy coat that eats the candlelight. The silence grew from angry to suffocating as you ran out of ways to avoid his presence, cups of tea laid out and poured. 

Jack finally spoke.

“You should leave town for a few days, ride west with Diego until this blows over. Bound to be a lot of bloodshed.” His hands surrounded the delicate teacup, a fortress against the world around it and savoring the warmth it offered his palms. 

“I’ve got nowhere to go besides here. This is my life, Jack, and I got nothing to abandon it for.”

He cast a sidelong glance at you that you held, shoulders squared and hands firmly planted on your hips. Your resolution set his mouth in a firm line.

“They’re coming, and they won’t be leaving without a fight.”

Nodding curtly, you moved about your kitchen with renewed energy.

“Then all the more reason to stay. They’ll need supplies, ammunition, a foxhole if need be - Percy, Charley, the deputies. I’ll not abandon the brave men of my town while there’s work to be done.”

Jack’s chair scraped along the floor, two strides bringing him chest to chest with you. His hands clenched at his side, jaw tight as you met his stance defiantly. 

“Is that what you think I did? Abandoned you?” he growled, but it only fueled the anger bubbling in your throat.

“No, Jack Daniels, I think you made an empty, unnecessary vow. I didn’t expect anything from you before you said you’d stay. If you had no intention, I’d rather not be lied to.” You spun to leave but Jack caught your arm, holding you firmly in place.

“I stayed in the only way I know how!” he shouted, baring his teeth. In a flash you understood, in the sickening way a secret revealed could garner no surprise, but needed to hear it from his lips.

“I was a member of the Golden Circle for a time. I’ve done things I’ve come to hate, taken and given what I had no right to. When it all became too much my conscience finally caught up to me, and I tried to leave. Pop Harlow put a bullet in my head for my troubles.” Your eyes darted to his temple, a pink scar revealed where the brim of his hat normally covered. Fighting your trembling lower lip, you listened.

“They left me for the vultures, but I came out of that god-forsaken desert. I planned to be a dead man the rest of my life, payment for the days given back to me. But the Circle still haunts my conscience, and I need to make right what I gave fuel to.” His hands slowly cupped your face, rough and cracked along your softer skin. “And then the desert gave me another reason to right my wrongs. One I never expected.”

You pulled back from his hands, tears threatening to shed.

“Don’t pin your absolution on me, Jack. By my account all you’ve ever done is disappoint,” you said bitterly, but even with barbs falling from your lips his hands chased you, cradled your head and wove his fingers between yours. 

“I know I’ve left you more times than stayed,” he said, a snort of derision coming unbidden from your nose. “But I’m staying this time, and once this business is sorted I hope you’ll let me stay a lot longer.” He pressed your foreheads together and the tears came, no matter how angrily you tried to hold them at bay.

“I don’t believe you,” you choked out, “You’ve given me no reason to believe you.”

Jack leaned in close and pressed a kiss to your cheek, the curve of his nose tracing a soft path to your temple to leave another. 

“I’m sorry. And I hope this will be the last time I disappoint you,” he whispered in your ear. Holding your breath, you dreaded what will come next. “Because I have to leave you one more time. The night will be long, the day longer, and I can’t come to you until it’s done.” With a final kiss to your forehead he swept out of your kitchen, striding to exit the store. You stood there in a daze, the marks of his lips still hot on your skin, before you stumbled after him.

“And what if you don’t come back?” you called after him, his silhouette darkening your door. The wind whipped outside, a storm truly on your doorstep now. He turned, hat back on his head with a grim countenance.

“Then I’m a dead man again,” he said before the door shut behind him.

And that is the third time Jack Daniels disappointed you. But not really. It’s the third time he broke your heart.

The night before the Golden Circle’s arrival is long, Diego and you trading wakefulness with rifles across your lap. He paces the storefront on watch, while you sit behind the counter with sightless eyes. It won’t be a quiet invasion if they come. You’ll hear the gunfire like lightning, the thunder of boots, the screams and whoops approaching. It will not be gentle. It will likely not be swift. You’ll go down shooting, though.

When the Golden Circle rides into town with the first glimmers of sunlight, it’s so still you’d think no one’s around to witness it. The silence is shredded by spurs and whinnies, but none of the hustle and bustle of a proper morning. No Sue Ellen on your doorstep to buy flour, or Billy trying to sneak sweeties. You wonder if maybe, if it’s silent enough, they would think it a ghost town and ride on through. 

The first shout, followed by gunshot and hollers, dashes that hope away.

Diego strains against the orders Jack gave him - “Keep her safe” - and the youthful desire to fight. But he stays by your side through the seemingly endless rounds of gunfire, the whizz and thumps of bullets landing true to their target, and the shatter of glass. Two bullets break a window, and the way he grunts at the sound makes you think he felt them in his guts. 

Another living dead boy, you realize. No wonder why Jack took a shining to him.

The fight drags along, long periods of silence punctuated by cries and murmured monologues you couldn’t give a damn about. You dare not peek out the window to see if Jack lies among the dead, that glimmer of hope keeping you vigilant.

A hammering at your back door almost makes you drop your rifle, the frantic voice of the doctor rasping through the wood frame. Slipping him in, he carries Percy, blood staining one arm crimson as he slumps in a chair. 

“I’m sorry dear, I’ve told them to bring the injured here,” the doctor whispers, rifling through his medical bag as you hurry to gather supplies. Percy is pale but talking, Diego putting his anxious energy to work by helping stop the bleeding. 

More knocks come to your door, more neighbors secreted into your makeshift hospital. Wounds are treated, water and food shared, whispers the only way you hear news of the battle outside.

“Pop Harlow shot the sheriff square in the eye.”

“Jack Daniels killed every men that set foot in the saloon.”

“Charley got all the children into the schoolhouse and is standing guard.”

“Jack challenged Harlow to a shootout.”

“I think it’s just the two of them now. The others from the Circle are dead or fled.”

You steal away to the privy to stifle sobs in the crook of your elbow, splashing your face to hide evidence of your tears. Diego notices, and when you sneak outside for more firewood he pulls you into a hug. 

“He’ll come back,” he assures you, this boy barely fifteen and already looking death in the face.

“I can’t…” you try to argue.

“He will. He has something he desperately wants to come back to. I’ve never seen him have that before, but I’ve seen him fight like hell for less.” 

The sun begins to set, and it’s as if the whole town holds its breath. The faint clink of spurs advance from opposite ends of main street. Words are exchanged that barely rise above the whistle of wind. A laugh, ugly and sharp. Sliding down to sit between the store shelves, you clutch your hands together in a prayer to whoever will listen. 

Silence.

Then.

Two shots so close as to be one sound.

And you wait. 

Wait to know if there’s a bullet in Pop Harlow’s heart or one in yours. 

The silence fades into deafening noise, but you still wait until Diego scrambles around the corner, landing hard on his knees beside you.

“Harlow’s dead,” he says, beaming with relief. 

“Jack?” you ask, and his nod releases waves of emotion that distill into tears running down your smiling face.

After all you’ve waited through today, Jack still makes you wait until night, when all of the men and women gathered in your store have gone to their own beds. You’re left with piles of bloodied rags and sheets, your home more threadbare than ever. Diego leaves to get you clean bedding from the hotel, promising to return shortly. He knows your nerves are still shot, hands shaking when they have nothing to do. 

The door opens, and you turn to thank him for going out late, for being there for you when everything was slipping through your fingers. But instead there stands Jack, favoring one leg with his hat in his hand. For a long moment you both just look at each other, mirroring hope in each other’s eyes.

“You saved us,” you finally say, taking a step towards him. A closer look at his clothing reveals the blood seeping into his jeans. “You’re hurt,” you add, turning to look for more supplies. 

“It can wait,” Jack rumbles, hand catching yours. It’s the first time in a full day you feel at ease, with his skin under your fingers. ‘I’ve got things that need to be said.” You let him tug you closer, taking your hands into his palms to regard how much gentler they are than his roughened ones. 

“I’m in love with you,” he says, thumbs smoothing over the backs of your palms. The admission is just like Jack - to the point, and true. “I’ve been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you. I should have gone to dinner with you. I should have stayed. I hope I still have a chance to stay.” Now it’s your turn to slide your fingers under his chin and turn his face up to you, longing so clear in his eyes you don’t know how you didn’t see it before.

“I’m not a young lady anymore, Jack.”

“You’re about the handsomest woman I’ve ever known.”

Your throat constricts, a smile fighting against the emotion threatening to rend you in two.

“I can’t offer you much beyond what’s under this roof,” you say with a watery sigh, creeping fear and your lifelong habit of protecting your heart rearing its head. “And you’ve got a bad habit of disappointing me.”

“Never again,” Jack says, the largest promise he’s ever made to you. This one he seals with a kiss, then another, and another as he takes you in his arms. As his coat falls from his shoulders, bandoliers left forgotten on the floor, you make him repeat it.

“Promise me.”

“I'll promise it a thousand times more.”

Today when someone enters your general store, they’ll see a rifle and twin pistols hung above the cash box, and a man by the name of Jack Daniels restocking the shelves or talking to your neighbors about new feed shipments. He’s filled out handsomely, hands still rough but with a penchant for gentle touches. He saves the best of those for your face when he gives you a sweet kiss, and for the privacy of the bed you share. 

Diego runs your errands and deliveries around town, the friendly boy with the roguish smile and saucy winks. When the dust settled and he held his hat in his hand you scolded him for even thinking he could get away from you after all that. He was an employee of your shop now, and better work like it. The grin that plastered his face ear to ear came close to matching your own.

Jack did indeed keep his largest promise to you, though two more soon after almost eclipsed it. The first being inked into fine white paper at the sheriff’s office with Diego scrubbing at his eyes - paperwork that made you his family in the eyes of the law. In your own eyes he was your boy the moment he laid on your table.

The second promise is a ring of gold Jack slipped around your finger under the setting sun, and kisses every morning when he wakes. A promise so precious you looked at it every day.

When rough men come into town asking about the one surviving member of the Golden Circle, most folks don’t recall what happened to him. They said he turned on Pop Harlow and crawled into the desert to die. Any remnant of him left was nothing more than a memory. Or a spirit.

Maybe you do live in a ghost town after all.

END

Thank you to @pedrostories for organizing this fantastic exchange, and happy holidays everyone!

[pink-koi-lovejoy]

Intro!

Koi Lovejoy

||ROLE-PLAY OC BLOG||

„Hello? Is this thing on? Oh! Hi there, the names Koi. Um… some things about me? Okay!”

Age:16

Camp: My dads live in New Rome but I prefer Camp Half-Blood!

Parents: Complicated. I’m technically an Aphrodite kid and an Apollo kid. 1/4 each, the rest is mortal. My ‘pa is trans so with a bit of mortal science- boom! Here I am

Sign: I’m a Sagittarius ♐️ :D (Borthday is November 27th)

Gender/Sexuality: I’m trans and I’m pan! I am also open to polyamory, but I’d like to stay just me and Oakley for a bit :)

Pronouns: He/They

Relationships: Friends with most of Apollo cabin (+ Nico), and Piper is like a sister to me. Leo is another close friend of mine! Occupation:TAKEN!!!! I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND OAKLEY SMMMM

more under cut :)

Facts!

I have heterachromia! 💛🩵 I play Acoustic guitar and trumpet 🎺 🎸 my favorite color is a light pink and my favorite animal is actually a Beta fish, not a Koi, but they are cool too…

I uhhhh may or may not have matchin collars with Oakley- as a joke bc of my cat form-

I'm never taking it off and um nvm continuing this would be considered tmi <3

People with bracelets (friends, siblings, and loved ones)👇👇

Oakley!! 🍂<3 - @everyones-fav-mailboy

Bill!🌬️- @bill-son-of-boreas

Em! ☀️- @emdabitchass

Leora!! 🌸- @therosesonofaphrodite

Ramona flowers!!!- @witch-trial-survivor

Jack!! 🔥🕯️- @demigod-jack-hearth

Aurelia! 🦋- @southerndaughterofeos

Mirai!!💀 - @cabin13gal

Kayla! ✨☀️- @apollos-favorite-child

Matteo child of Aeolus and Circe AND Elio son of Apollo (my sons <3) ☁️⭐️- @yourlocalfallenstar

Youngest, Josiah, Middle, Eve, and Oldest Mariner!🩵- @the-matryoshka-dolls

Aiden! I believe he has siblings but I haven’t met them✨- @the-smart-and-the-dumb-one

Zander! 🍇- @the-king-zander

Miles! ✨- @the-hades-cabin-purechaos

Attempting to be friends with:

(OOC👇👇)

I’ll rp with anyone in my ask box, but to claim a specific role, feel free to ask! PLEASE feel free to add me to any Magic!Anon things that require other people. I love them.

All fake instagram posts are cannon, but do not happen in any specific time frame unless specified by me, the mod!

As usual, if you don’t want to be tagged, just send me an ask and I can remove you!

All of my borders/blinkies/dividers come from these people! @cafekitsune

@thecutestgrotto

(END OOC)

Possible face claims: (to get an idea for what he looks like. Haven’t found an exact one yet.)

(Credit: sleepylittledude on Pinterest)

(cat form, gift from adoptive father [I have three dads? Getting kinda gay here], Jack Hearth <3)

Some Picrews

Database Spotlight:

Tags:

#Koi Lovejoy (Ik, very creative ☺️) (In Character)

#Off brand solace speaking (OOC)

#Oakoi (ship with Oakley <33333)

[pete-spankoffski]

STATUS: college time baaaabby!!!

Hello! My name is Peter Spankoffski, I use he/they. My current occupation being a student at Hatchetfield Highschool.

Im pansexual, transmasc. I have two siblings, I’m polish-american and have an affinity for chemistry (also astronomy.)

I hang around the library, or oakley park most of the time! I use this now blog to mostly talk to / make friends?

My Asks are open for anything whether it be about my siblings, friends or anything

Oh- I also tutor, if you’d be up for that then im the guy!

Auf Wiedersehen, Adieu

ooc section

this blog has topics which go between: implied ed (eating disorder), sui ideation or thoughts, self worth issues and etc to be tagged appropriately under.

killings are open! he has a death count for a reason.

coherent timeline who?

open to other partners!

pete is possibly polyamorous (depends)

more ooc section

dms, asks, mentions and etc are allowed so no need to ask (or be afraid when you do, I love talking / planning with people.)

nsfw mentions will occur yet no smut

hi! im nikki, I use she/he/they pronouns (aswell as others if you are curious) I have a few other blogs that will be listed below.

@goodman-howie

@tati-ana-slozhno

@bliklo-tep

@aliipall

@bananahannahh

@duke-keane-hatchetfield

main: uh uh uh wiggles my finger at you you lost main privileges

rp blog tags:

#petes-deaths - self explanatory, all the times he’s died

#petes-shitposts - pete shitposting ic

#pete speaks - general tumblr posts

#pete-answers - pete answering anons

[queen-of-boops]

Hello my beautiful friend. How about a head canon for my sexy firefighter 👨‍🚒🚒. How your doing well ❣️☺️.

Hi Jennifer, of course I can put some together for Oakley!

He's the strong and silent type, not necessarily about the big romantic gestures. For Oakley, the little things are what matters. He's all about the tender kisses and soft touches instead of fiery passion and romance.

Loves to show off his strength, especially in the bedroom. Definitely not afraid to scoop his girl up and have his way with her.

Goes crazy for a girl's legs and will melt every time you wear something to show them off.

Always up for a quicky, and will absolutely make sure you get something out of it as well. But if he has his way, he's going to take his time committing your body to memory.

Has a kinda quiet type of jealousy. Won't show it in public, but as soon as you're alone he'll make sure that his name is the only one on your lips.

Will get very excited if his partner decides to take control and isn't against being handcuffed.

Mild praise kink. After all he's been through with girls just wanting him for the uniform, nothing gets him going more than knowing his girl truly sees him and wants to be with him.

Favorite positions: cowgirl, girl up against the wall

Favorite form of aftercare is quality time, lazily lying in bed and talking because neither of you have the energy to move.

[thana-topsy]

Ok, gosh, sorry to pester but your response got me actually sorta tempted to maybe give writing atleast a small fic a try. So I've got a fair lotta experience with running and playing ttrpgs and I imagine there's *some* skill overlap (Both kinda being in a roundabout way narrative writing, just as a group) and, well, wondering if you have any tips and tricks for fic writing? I know I really struggle with character dialogue when I'm writing both sides of it 😅

YASSS LET'S GO!! Fic writing time!!! (And don't worry, you're not pestering me. If anything you've infected me with Minotaur Brain).

Okay, this is about to get long, so apologies in advance. You've unleashed the beast.

I actually went from playing and running TTRPG to fic-writing because I had more ideas than any single game of DND could possibly contain. I wanted these stories out of my head and I wanted complete control. (Do I have control issues? Maybe~ But only when it comes to impatience. I didn't want to have to wait on people to make story decisions, damn it!) So I can say that, yes, there's absolutely some overlap that'll come in handy!

Ahhh character dialogue. I know a lot of people struggle with that exact mechanic, so you're not alone. Fortunately (or unfortunately) I have the boon of having conversations with myself pretty constantly lol. Dialogue comes very naturally for me, and is one of my favorite things to write. I'd say just pay attention to how you speak to people, how people speak to you, and keep in mind that two people talking are going to have different motivations and interpretations of the conversation. It can feel intimidating, but the #1 thing to prioritize is knowing your characters inside and out. Their responses in dialogue will come naturally if you know their personality well.

As far as external sources, I follow a lot of "On Writing" type channels on YouTube, and I'll link a few of my favorites: Hello Future Me has a whole playlist of writing tips and tricks, but his entire channel is just lovely. For dialogue specifically, I gotta recommend this video, which I've watched plenty. (Also he has videos on The Elder Scrolls!) The Closer Look tends to focus on movies and scripts more than written work, but one of the best ways to get better at writing is to critique all types of storytelling media. (Critique as in look critically at what makes a story successful, not just shit on popular media for fun). Brandon Sanderson is an absolute master of fantasy fiction and has a WEALTH of videos on youtube. His playlist on writing advice is great for bite-sized nuggets of knowledge, but also he has entire college-level lectures available for free on youtube. Shit's amazing.

I also love watching channels, like Cari Can Read, that read and discuss popular books. It's entertaining, and also a good example of what to do, and often what not to do, in a story lmfao.

I've also read many many books on writing techniques. "How Fiction Works" by Oakley Hall is probably my all-time favorite.

I hope this helps you get a good start! But at the end of the day, just write! Technique can come later. Get some words down and see where the story takes you. Worry about the craft later. As they always say, you can't edit a blank page.

Best of luck, my friend, and I look forward to seeing what you come up with. 🙏

[viviennes-tears]

Tags list!

Hello everybody!

I've decided to open up to making tags list, as I'd like to be able to interact with more of you lovely people, plus you can get updates for my work. So without further ado let's get into it!

Tags list categories:

All works

Series only

Mini series only

One shots only

Drabbles only

Two parts only

Tom Hiddleston

Loki

Adam

Oakley

Prince Hal/Henry V

Capt. James Nicholls

Robert Laing

I am going to be writing for new characters within the new year and I will be making adjustments when I cross that bridge. For now this is everything I've done thus far. So if you're interested in being apart of my tags list let me know either comment, message or send an ask which lists you'd like to be part of 😊 x

Source: @viviennes-tears

[ludinusdaleth]

Hello, hello~ how about 14, 18, and 20? For of course Ludinus and Artagan lol.

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

ludinus - when he showed up in that long cloak & capelet in c2e88 i knew he would thrive with victorian fashion. anything historically british is probably something i wouldn't blink twice about on him, but victorian era longcoats? oh man.

artagan - this is maybe going to sound like the most out of left field thing you've ever heard in your life but listen.... arti would rule redneck "fashion", okay. if he grows his stupid adorable chin beard out, puts on shitty oakleys, and wears camo cargo pants with a sleeveless shirt....? that man would look, frankly, beautiful to my texan self. he would make it work because even despite matching the wild disarray of the look, he'd still very obviously be out of place, like a queer/hippie who somehow stumbled into a bass pro. and yet it would at the same time look correct on him. he'd have a blast down here, trolling conservatives but also genuinely enjoying southern chaos. it fits in my head perfectly. even if it is insane.

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

artagan - how could it be anyone but jester. genuinely the best relationship of all fucking time. i want to weep thinking about them. they love each other so much. jester doing everything for him even when he's failed her and him rising up to that when he's never risen up to anything and learning to be selfless. just. oh my god. oh my god.

ludinus - it's incredible how ludinus operates with otohan & liliana, but your meta's gone into that thoroughly. im also very floored every time he does try to extend an olive branch and just be human (for lack of a better word) to characters like fearne, imogen, or caleb.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

ludinus - i very often imagine a world where devexian & ludinus learned of each others existence, met, and silently sat together in a small nook in a tea shop or lud's tower. not much needs to be said, except the occasional sigh at an old shared memory of an aeorian park, or the buffoonery of the somnovem. a world where they aren't probably on opposite or at least different sides of vengeance, where both can just admit they are fucking tired old men who've lived too long.

artagan - apart from jester? i think arti needs to meet fearne, morrighan, even yu. he's far from any kind of father figure, but.... he sure could be their uncle. these young fae folk are being tossed in the seas of their peoples useless politics, and arti's heart would strain knowing even more of his people are pawns who are forced out of their whimsy for war. he would almost dote on them, in his odd aloof dick-joking way.

thank you!!

[lordeasriel]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

Hello! Thank you for sending it my way!

In Hushed Whispers. Marisa x Asriel. It's a 9-part fic that I recently revisited and apart from some revamping, the core message was still pretty decent. It was also a great start for the Dorotheaverse.

What Yet Lingers. A +170k words fic that addresses Lyra's world from the POV of an Oakley Street spy. I'm proud of this one fic and I genuinely feel so happy when people reach out to me to say they liked it as well.

And Fading History. Two times Monsieur Delamare tried to reason with his children and the one time he couldn't. I like making people very sad lol

I Like it When You're Gone. AU pre-The Secret Commonwealth, where Lyra finds out her mother left her some money, under the condition she spends time with her aloof uncle. If you like it sad, this will make you sad.

The Delamare Dinners. A throwback to Marisa's life and her relationship with her family. SAD.