#how could anyone mishear this

[blorbosexterminator]

For all there is negative to say about the spin-off and Berlin I at least have the comfort to know that Pina would never mischaracterize and misrepresent Berlin as the fandom did when everyone just decided to shut their eyes and ears in the Viking Gold scene and instead assumed the exact opposite of what happened. Just completely ignoring what Andrés literally said in the scene so just they would have a "at core Martín and Berlin are actually the opposite uwu and Martin is so much better" when the scenes were literal direct parallels of each other and where Andrés and Martín said the exact same things just about different cultures and different groups of people

[madamechrissy]

Ex Husband Toji

MDNI- NSFW- explicit sex, dirty talk, oral (m and f recieving) lil bit of rough sex, Toji calls you doll and Mama, creampie, breed kink, reader is Megumi's mom and Toji needs another kid lol

Ex Husband Toji who you're so mad at, because he's late picking up Megumi for his day to take him to school again, so you decide to go directly to his house, banging on the door.

Ex Husband Toji who overslept after working all night, and feels awful he's fucked up again, but when he sees your cute little scowl, he's instantly turned on, because fuck he misses you so much.

Ex Husband Toji who smirks, licking his full lower lip as his dark green eyes drink you in. 'still in your pajamas, huh doll?' earning you shoving at his chest now, crossing your arms. 'was supposed to be your day to take Gumi, no I wasn't dressed!' Toji really likes this crop top, the strap hanging off your bare shoulder, your nipples perk up as he stares, earning a smug grin

Ex Husband Toji laughs as he says 'could've just told me you wanted to get off, y'know' earning your smack on his cheek, which really just makes him hard for you as you stomp in his house. He's shirtless and in sweats, you're trying to avoid looking at his chiseled, muscular body because if you stare too long you'll remember how good he fucked you, so you cross your arms, glaring and say 'I actually have a date tonight, Toji'

Ex Husband Toji scowls now, stepping up to you, he's so big he takes over the whole little home it seems, his big rough hands gripping your bare waist, thumbs pressing against your rib cage. 'what's that now, doll? I must've fuckin misheard' you scoff, shoving his hands off 'didn't mishear shit, we're done you know that' he yanks you to him now, and when you're pressed against his body? your brain short circuits as he leans down so close you taste the cigarettes on his breath

Ex Husband Toji slams his lips on yours, you feel that scar rubbing against your mouth, as his tongue devours you, lapping in and out so fucking messy. No one fucking kisses you like that, no one can do this to you, but you can't fuck him again, this keeps happening and you have to move on. You back away then, panting, eyes locked on his, and then he says it 'I fuckin miss you, so much y'know that? miss you cummin on m'face'

Ex Husband Toji may or may not then have your thighs spread on his kitchen table, he may or may not have your sleep shorts yanked to the side, and he may or may not have his face buried between your thighs. He's lapping you up, tasting your sweet arousal all over his mouth, as he looks up under sooty lashes. Your hands yank his inky black hair as you gasp, while he fucks your gummy walls so goddamn well, crying out 'still h-hate you, T-Toji' earning him leaning back with a devious fucking grin, as he smacks your cunt.

Ex Husband Toji who watches you tremble and whimper as he spits on your clit, watching the bubbly liquid drip between your lip, slipping two thick fingers into your tight little hole, cock throbbing under his sweats as he remembers how good you feel clenching him. He's not been with anyone else, how could he? 'T-Toji, f-fuck!' you're screaming his name, eyes rolling back while he scissors those fingers in and out of your soppy little hole, which flutters around them. 'ya gonna cum f'me doll? let me see it... there ya go'

Ex Husband Toji Has you cumming all over his fingers, white hot stars blinding you, as it washes all over, no one could do this to you, and soon he's got you turned and bent over the table, legs dangling pathetic as he slides those slutty grey sweats down, releasing his thick heavy cock, that shoves in your soaking wet cunt, stretching you so good. 'Ah! oh my god!' you have tears in your eyes as he grips your hips, begining to fuck into you, slamming your cervix as his balls smack your little twitching clit

Ex Husband Toji loves how you feel so much, muttering 'f-fuckin missed this, missed your cunt gripping me... cum on doll, cum again lemme feel her' you need no urging, you're pulsing around his cock in the middle of his messy ass kitchen, on his old table scattered with cards and gambling tickets. He shoves your head down as he grips a wrist, pulling it behind your back and bottoming out, stuffing you so full you're soaking him completely, gasping for a breath.

Ex Husband Toji who busts inside you, muttering 'need a lil brother or sister for Gumi, don't we, mama?' and you're just nodding weakly, feeling his load so deep inside you, fucking up your guts as he's still fucking into you, he tilts your chin, slamming his lips on yours as he leans over you, big hands taking over your body, cock twitching in you. 'stop this shit, come home' he whispers, you pull away then, on trembling legs, glaring up at him.

Ex Husband Toji hopes he knocked you up again as you go off on him for being late, as you act like you're going to leave, only for you to be on your knees sucking yourself off him, and as he's fucking your throat he's pretty damn sure you're not going on any date at all

permatag list: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @cuntphoric 🩵

Toji Masterlist

[doodle-pops]

Dating Someone Younger Than Them

☾ Characters: Maedhros, Fingon, Turgon, Finarfin, Beleg, Gwindor

☾ A/N: Been wanting to write a version for the Silm after I did one for Bleach. It was just perfect for our elves considering they’re ancient lol.

☾ Synopsis: When their mortal love calls them ‘old man’ and other ancient terms of endearment.

Masterlist | Navigation

︶꒦꒷Maedhros꒷꒦︶

➽ The first time you called him an old man, he just gave you a long, unimpressed stare, as if weighing whether it was even worth his time to respond. Then he sighed, rubbing his temples. “I have lived through the ruin of kingdoms, the fall of civilisations, and the wrath of Morgoth himself, and yet this is what finally tests my patience.”

➽ It became a game after that. You would drop an ‘old man’ comment in the middle of a conversation, and he would try to act as if he hadn’t heard it. The twitch in his jaw always gave him away.

➽ He never fully humours it, but he doesn’t ignore it either. If you push too far, he’ll turn it around with some impossibly poetic insult about your youth. “For one so new to this world, you have a remarkable talent for being insufferable.”

➽ If you ever say it in front of his brothers or anyone else, he will immediately deny you. “This is slander. I am not old.” Then he turns to the unfortunate bystander. “Do I look old?” If they hesitate for even a second, he’s going to be even more annoyed.

➽ He could handle the name-calling when it was just the two of you, but when you casually threw out a “Move faster, ancient one” in front of Elrond, Maedhros genuinely looked like he wanted to walk into a volcano all over again.

➽ When he’s deep in thought or strategising, you like to sit beside him and start listing the benefits of being old. “Wisdom, experience, a nice slow pace—” “I am not slow.” “Your reflexes might not be what they used to be.” “You’re welcome to test that theory, though I doubt you’d survive the lesson.”

➽ He tries to get back at you by calling you ‘child,’ but it never has the same sting because it’s factually correct. “Oh, what’s that, grandpa? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your joints creaking.” He looks like he’s regretting every life decision that led him to this moment.

➽ One day you asked him if he needed a walking stick, just to see his reaction. He didn’t even blink. “Perhaps I do. I can use it to beat you with.”

➽ He refuses to admit it, but he finds your antics mildly entertaining. It’s a welcome distraction from the heavy burden he always carries. If he didn’t enjoy your company, he wouldn’t tolerate you at all.

➽ There was one occasion when you woke up with a sore back from sleeping in an awkward position. The second you so much as winced, he was on you like a vulture. “What’s this? Ailing already? I thought only old men suffered from such things.”

➽ He once caught you whispering to one of the horses about “taking extra care of the old man,” and you have never known true fear until you turned and saw the way he was watching you from the doorway.

︶꒦꒷Fingon꒷꒦︶

➽ He takes it with absolute grace. The first time you called him an old man, he just burst out laughing. “Oh, is that how you see me? I’ll have you know, I am in my prime!”

➽ If anything, he started playing into it more than you did. You accused him of being old, so he leaned fully into it. He started dramatically pretending to mishear you like some ancient relic. “What was that?” he would say, cupping a hand to his ear. “Speak up, my hearing isn’t what it used to be!”

➽ If you say it in public, he just rolls with it. If someone asks how old he is, he’ll sigh wistfully. “I lost count after the first thousand years. But it is a heavy burden to be so ancient.” He then promptly challenges someone to a footrace just to prove he’s still in perfect shape.

➽ The first time you called him ‘old man’ in front of Turgon, the sheer look of delight on his brother’s face was enough to make Fingon immediately declare, “Okay. I will not stand for this slander around my siblings.”

➽ He does this annoying thing where if you ever complain about something even remotely difficult, he pats your head and says, “Ah, you young folk. So fragile, so untested by time.” It makes you want to fight him.

➽ You once jokingly suggested getting him a cane, and he immediately turned it into a whole thing. “Ah, a cane! Lovely! Now I can whack you each time you refuse to be nice to your old man.” You realised too late that you had given him an actual idea.

➽ When introducing him to new people, you would say things like, “This is Fingon. He’s about ten thousand years old. Probably met a few dinosaurs in his youth.”

➽ “There were no dinosaurs,” he said one day, rubbing his temples. “You don’t know that,” you shot back. “You’re old enough that you might’ve forgotten.” He had to physically restrain himself from throwing something.

➽ You tried to call him ‘grandfather’ once, just to mess with him, and he whacked you with the cane before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. “Disrespectful children get carried off into the mountains, did you know?” He had you hanging there for a good five minutes before he let you down.

➽ He does have moments where he flips it on you. If you ever struggle with something, he’ll just fold his arms and shake his head. “Tsk, tsk. You youngsters, no stamina at all.” Then he walks off whistling, leaving you to yell after him.

➽ He keeps an actual tally of how many times you’ve called him old. Every time you say it, he smirks and says, “Ah, that’s another one. I believe we’re at…oh, at least a hundred now, and it’s only been a day.”

➽ Despite everything, he wouldn’t have it any other way. If anyone else had dared to mock him like this, he would have thrown hands. But you? You made eternity a little less lonely.

︶꒦꒷Turgon꒷꒦︶

➽ He is absolutely scandalised the first time you call him an old man. He stares at you as if you’ve just insulted his entire lineage. “Old? Old?” You’ve broken his brain.

➽ He cannot believe you would say such a thing to him. “I am in my prime!” He spends the next five minutes going over how elves don’t age like mortals. You nod along, taking none of it seriously.

➽ If you ever say it in court or around his people, he’ll pretend he didn’t hear you. If someone else reacts, he immediately dismisses it. “Do not humour them. They are young and foolish.”

➽ He’s far too serious about it. If you keep teasing him, he will launch into a lecture about the differences between elves and mortals, as if he genuinely thinks you might not understand. “Age, as you perceive it, does not apply to me in the same manner—” “Yes, yes, that’s what all old people say.” He looks like he wants to strangle you.

➽ You tried to give him a ‘wise old sage’ persona once, asking for ‘the wisdom of the ancients.’ He was not amused. “If you wish for my wisdom, then cease your foolishness.”

➽ He does get his revenge, though. If you ever ask for his help with anything, he tilts his head and says, “Ah, but I am an old man. Surely you would not ask such a burden of me?” Then he watches as you regret everything.

➽ He tries to turn it on you by calling you ‘child’ but ends up making himself sound even older. “You are but a mere infant in the grand scheme of things.” “Alright, grandfather.” He clenches his fists.

➽ You’ve tried to get others in on it, but most of his people are too respectful to join. Idril, however, betrayed him once by smirking and saying, “Well, you are older than the moon.” He was horrified.

➽ Still, you were insufferable about it when the mood was light. The time he hesitated for just a second before kneeling and you went, “Careful, old man, don’t throw out your back,” had him seriously considering revenge.

➽ You once dramatically gasped and pointed to a grey hair (it wasn’t grey, it was just the light hitting his hair in a certain way). He immediately went to check a mirror. You laughed for five minutes.

➽ If you ever try to help him stand up as if he’s frail, he will walk away without acknowledging you. But if you trip, he’s the first to say, “Ah, how clumsy youth can be.” You hate that he’s learning.

︶꒦꒷Finarfin꒷꒦︶

➽ He takes it with the patience of someone who has raised multiple hot-headed children and lived through millennia of nonsense. The first time you called him an old man, he just gave you a very calm look, folded his hands, and said, “Ah, so this is how we’re speaking to our elders now.”

➽ Every time he started waxing poetic about the past, you’d lean in and whisper, “Tell me, old man, what was it like when the world was flat?” just to watch his expression twitch.

➽ He tries to be above it, but the more you push, the more you can see that tiny flicker of exasperation in his eyes. “I do not feel old,” he tells you one day after you make some comment about him needing rest. “Then why do you sigh like a man who has carried the weight of time itself?” He does not respond with an answer.

➽ If you ever say it in front of others, especially his courtiers, he just offers a serene smile and responds in that terrifyingly diplomatic tone: “Yes, I am indeed quite old, and with that comes the wisdom to know when to ignore a foolish remark.”

➽ You sometimes get him gifts with ‘Number 1 Grandfather’ written on it, which makes him mentally age. “Got this for you while I was at the art shop. They had this as a giveaway gift. Thought of you,” you say with a brilliant smile. He secretly uses that item when you’re not looking.

➽ He won’t openly challenge you, but he gets his revenge in subtle ways. If you ever need his help, he pauses for a long moment and hums as if in deep thought. “Ah, but you just said I was an old man…surely, you would not burden me further?” He only helps once you’ve suffered enough.

➽ You tried to make it worse by referring to him as ‘grandfather,’ thinking you’d finally get a real reaction. He only smiled and said, “Ah, then I expect you to act with the respect due to one’s grandsire.” You lost that round instantly.

➽ If you ever ask if he remembers something from thousands of years ago, he gives you an almost pitying look. “My dear, I was there when the Two Trees shone in all their glory. This event you speak of? It is recent history to me.” You can’t even argue.

➽ He once overheard you talking to a servant about how he was probably the type to grunt when sitting down. The next time he lowered himself into a chair, he made a point of doing it completely silently while staring directly at you.

➽ You once got overly confident and teased him about ‘his old man hands’ when he reached for something. He just slowly raised his eyebrows and then gestured for you to hand him a sword. “If you wish to test them, we may spar.” You swiftly remembered that he was, in fact, a Noldorin warrior.

➽ When he catches you struggling with something, like carrying too many things at once, he doesn’t say a word. He just watches, waiting for the inevitable. When you drop something, he finally hums. “Ah, youth. So full of energy, yet so lacking in foresight.”

︶꒦꒷Beleg꒷꒦︶

➽ The first time you called him an old man, he just stared at you for a moment and then burst out laughing. “Old? Me? My dear, I can still outrun and outfight you before breakfast.” And he proves it, too.

➽ He is the absolute worst about it because he finds it hilarious. If you bring it up, he immediately goes into an exaggerated act of being ancient. “Ah, my weary bones, my tired limbs! The years have been so cruel to me!” He says this while effortlessly stringing his bow.

➽ If you ever suggest that he needs rest due to his ‘age,’ he takes it as a personal challenge. “Oh? Do I seem tired to you?” And then he drags you on a full-day hunt through the wilds, moving like an unstoppable force while you suffer.

➽ He gets back at you by constantly referring to himself as a ‘wise elder’ and you as an ‘inexperienced youth.’ If you struggle with something, he leans against a tree and sighs. “Ah, I remember my younger days, when I too was reckless and foolish.

➽ Sometimes, it backfires like when you’re hunting together and request that he assist or carry you. “You would not make such a request of your elderly? I am but a fragile old man—weary are my bones. You, my dear, should carry me instead.”

➽ You tried to get Túrin in on it once, but the clueless man actually believed you and started treating Beleg with exaggerated concern. Beleg had to sit him down and explain that no, he was not, in fact, on the brink of death.

➽ He once let you tie a ‘wise old sage’ beard onto his face just for fun. He wore it for exactly ten minutes before it got in the way of shooting an arrow.

➽ His patience was legendary, but you had a way of testing it in ways no one else could. Like when he was lost in thought, you would ruin the moment by poking his cheek and saying, “Careful, old man, if you frown any harder, your wrinkles might become permanent.”

➽ If you ever call him old in front of other elves, he leans into it. “Yes, indeed, I am ancient,” he says dramatically. “I have seen centuries of battle, and yet I still find myself suffering through this torment.” He gestures at you with exaggerated despair.

➽ He once saw you rubbing your shoulder after a long day and immediately smirked. “Oh, what’s this? Are you aching? How terrible! I thought only old men suffered such things.” He enjoys payback too much.

➽ You tried to call him ‘fossil’ once, thinking you could win the game. He immediately scooped you up and ran at full speed through the trees until you begged for mercy.

➽ He never lets you forget that, compared to him, you are essentially a newborn. “I remember when you were not even a thought in the world,” he tells you cheerfully.” Meanwhile, I was already legendary.” You groan.

︶꒦꒷Gwindor (Pre-Angbang)꒷꒦︶

➽ He reacts like you’ve just struck him with an arrow the first time you say it. “Old? Old?” He looks personally betrayed.

➽ He immediately tries to defend himself. “I am hardly old! If anything, I am in the prime of my years!” You nod solemnly. “Yes, denial is common among the elderly.” He groans.

➽ He actually gets concerned the first time you say it. “Do I look old?” He immediately checks his reflection. If you don’t reassure him, he starts overthinking it.

➽ When he realises you’re just teasing him, he starts throwing it back at you in the most dramatic ways. If you ever complain about anything, he sighs. “Ah, such struggles of youth. You will understand in time.”

➽ He’s the type to get flustered if you say it in public. If someone overhears and laughs, he immediately tries to explain himself. “This is slander! I am not old!”

➽ He tried to retaliate once by calling you ‘youngling’ in the most patronising tone possible, but you just blinked at him and went, “So you admit it. You’re old. Practically dust. Thank you for your honesty.” He has never attempted it again.

➽ You once left a walking stick outside his tent as a joke. He picked it up, twirled it in his hands, and then used it to trip you. “Ah, it seems this old man still has some skill.” You regretted everything.

➽ He doesn’t take it too seriously, but there is one thing that gets to him: the reminder that time moves differently for you. “One day, you will be gone, and I will remain,” he says quietly one night. You feel a little bad, but then he sighs dramatically. “Then again, perhaps by then, I will be an old man.” He always finds a way to joke about it.

➽ He once caught you massaging your hands after writing for too long and immediately smirked. “Oh? Are your hands aching? Perhaps you, too, are ageing faster than you thought?” You wanted to throw something at him.

➽ If you ever try to claim he’s losing his edge, he challenges you to a duel on the spot. He fights with all the skill of a seasoned warrior and does not go easy on you. By the end of it, you’re the one exhausted, and he just grins. “It seems this old man still has some strength left.”

➽ He gets extra petty about it. If you ever ask him to carry something for you, he makes a show of pretending to struggle. “Oh, my weak, ancient limbs! Alas, I can barely hold such weight!” Then he immediately lifts it with ease.

➽ You tried to ‘help’ him up once when he was sitting on the ground. He just raised an eyebrow and yanked you down instead. “If I must suffer, so must you.”

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[cloudcountry]

I've discussed this with a mutual but I really need to read it: I'd like to request a confession scenario with Jamil where he goes through the 5 stages of grief.

Basically Jamil is fell head over heels into the Mariana trench but forgot that De Nile is a river in Egypt and pulled a page out of Kalim's book by being purposely oblivious about his own feelings.

The poor reader is also very much in love and has pining for WEEKS. One day, they decide to just tip the band-aid off. The pair are in the kitchen hanging out as usual when the reader turns to him and goes "I'm in love with you. You don't have to say anything and you can pretend this never happened. I just want you to know"

They're expecting a rejection but Jamil just stares a freezes for a good three minutes. While the reader is panicking trying to get him to snap out of it, Jamil is going through the 5 stages of grief.

Ultimately, Jamil's thought process ends with "If we don't kiss in the next 5 seconds I'm overblotting again" and the intrusive thoughts win.

SUMMARY: you confess to jamil. he doesn't know how to respond until he throws his inhibition out the window.

COMMENTS: I LOVE THIS REQUEST??? i decided to play off of the actual stages of grief for this even though its an expression hehe

“Jamil, I like you.”

What.

“Actually, no, I’m...I’m in love with you. And it’s okay if you don’t, it's okay if you don’t say it back, I just wanted you to know.”

What!?

Jamil stares at the fridge in front of him, mind blank except for your words. They repeat over and over and every emotion ever swells up in his chest because what!?

Since when? Why? What did you see in him? What did you see in your future with him? DId you even see one? Did he mishear you? Did you mean to say that to someone else?

No, there’s no way you did. You two were the only ones in the kitchen at the moment. Grim was outside in the living room, talking to the ghosts about something or other and why would you even say something like that to Grim anyway?

Denial.

You didn’t mean it. There’s no way you meant it. even after he overblotted and threw you to the other end of his dorm? Even after he showed you all the ugliest parts of himself, the parts of himself that nobody ever should have seen because he wasn’t supposed to be a person, only an aid?

And he certainly didn’t like you back. It’s not like he wanted to do things for you to make you happy, it’s not like he got the slightest bit jealous when he saw you hanging out with Kalim, it’s not like he wanted to monopolize all of your time so nobody else could have it.

Okay, so he was lying to himself. Great. He can deal with this for sure.

Anger.

It’s so unfair. It’s so unfair. If it wasn’t for Kalim and his parents and this suffocating life he’s sure he’d be able to accept your confession in a heartbeat. He’s sure he’d be able to comprehend his own emotions and bring you into his arms. He’s sure he’d be able to process his own emotions and be the partner you deserved, without all the jumbled mess that is his rage and jealousy and resentment.

He didn’t want to be someone else, he just wanted a different life. He just wanted to be free, to be able to exercise his own pure talent, to be able to rise above everyone else.

Bargaining.

He wished there was some way to make that reality for you two. He didn’t want you to go be with anyone else, the very thought of it made his stomach turn and his heart brim with anger. He was a selfish, jealous person, but you loved him. How could he make this work? How could he keep you in love with him, keep you by his side, keep you controlled? Did you have to be controlled? You started liking him of your own free will, maybe he didn’t have to do anything.

But falling for him was one matter, staying by his side was another.

Depression.

There was no way this was going to work.

He had to find a way.

He couldn’t find a way.

There had to be a way.

His mind is moving too fast for him to keep up and he’s still staring at the fridge, and your voice is calling his name and you look so worried, your visage in the corner of his eyes swirling. It’s like he’s not even rooted in reality anymore. How can he make this work? It almost feels hopeless...but Jamil is anything but a quitter. He’s never given up before, and he’s not going to start now.

Acceptance.

“Jamil?” you say for what feels like the hundredth time, your hand resting gently on his shoulder.

He’s still not responding. Oh fuck, you didn’t think confessing was going to mess him up this much. If you’d known that, you wouldn’t have said anything and just kept it to yourself forever.

He murmurs your name and finally, finally turns to look at you. His hands grab your shoulders and he meets your gaze, pupils dilated and eyes wide.

“Be mine.” he says, and your heart flutters at how serious he sounds.

“J...Jamil?” you squeak, pliant in his arms and he pulls you close, clinging to you like he never wants to let you go.

“Be mine.” he repeats, words muffled in your shoulder, “I will...always do my best for you. Always. I don’t want you going to anyone else.”

“I don’t want to be with anyone else.” you murmur softly, placing a hand on the back of his head as he crushes you against him.

He shifts, bringing his face close to your neck. You barely have the time to wonder what he’s doing before he kisses the junction between your shoulder and neck, a soft smack of lips roaring in your ears.

“Good.” he replies, the word a hot gust of air against your skin.

[soap-ify]

mdni.

YOU'RE AN ANGEL, I'M A DOG | simon 'ghost' riley x reader

05 — i'll meet the judgement by the hounds.

chapter summary — a fool and a coward, that's the realisation you had come to.

tags / cw — no smut, fluff, a bit domestic honestly, basically reader's drunk and simon takes care of you, bittersweet, simon opens up... a bit, angst, suicidal thoughts, very subtle religious references if they even count as one, simon's in denial and reader is on the verge of losing it all. [4k words]

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Simon had come to the conclusion that you were a snake, and your love was your poison. Maybe he really was a coward for being afraid to let your venom drown into his veins.

“Remind me to never take you out for drinking again.”

If it weren’t for Simon holding you carefully against him and walking through the street, you’d surely have collapsed on the ground all drunk and worse, thrown up by now.

It was a little mistake. One drink became two, and then three. You had forgotten about your tolerance, and here you were now. It’s all because of Simon. That’s what your excuse was, blaming it all on him. Which was true in all honesty, you had gotten too excited about this little hangout.

“You’ll never go out with me again?” Completely mishearing his words, you looked up at him with wide eyes, tears already approaching. Yeah, you were completely drunk. Simon froze, his heart tearing at the sight of your incoming tears, even if they were just due to your emotions being all over the place now. Emotions that had always been there, hidden deep within.

His first instinct was to ignore your words and just keep walking, his heart begging for him to comfort you. But again, how does a killer comfort an angel? How would the moon comfort the ocean, while being so far away?

“I didn’t say that.” He gruffly replied and continued to look ahead, not daring to meet your eyes anymore.

O Angel, let me fall on my knees, kiss your fingers, and weep for forgiveness. So you may hold my absolution, and make me man again.

“C’mon, we gotta take you home.” Simon internally cursed himself for not taking you both to the bar in a car. He hadn’t considered the possibility of you being a drunk mess. Do I ever consider anything?

“No!” Your loud whine echoed in the empty pavement, and he could barely hold in a chuckle, deciding to bite his bottom lip beneath his mask. “Can’t we spend more time together, Si?”

I’d spend a lifetime with you. But god forbid he ever said those words. Not to you, not to anyone. “S’not like m’gonna die or somethin’, or that you’ll never see me again.” Simon grumbled and tightened his hand around your waist, accommodating your wobbly body, guiding you.

Simon wished he could take your hands and sway around with you, let both of you move into a sweet dance, with the stars praising you. A performance for the cosmos. He wished he could hold you when you throw yourself over him, to let you never escape his embrace. Lovers forever tangled.

He wished.

He wondered what something like that even would look like. His dad never danced with his mother. He remembers his mother looking at him, holding in her tears and forcing a smile. “I promise your dad loves me, just as much as I love him. He's just… exhausted nowadays.” He wished his mother didn’t consider him a naive — a child.

Simon doesn’t think he was ever a child. A child is innocent, his very first cry was a sin.

“Simon?” Your voice snapped him out of the reminiscence he was trapped in. He let out a soft grunt, urging you to continue.

“Have you… Have you ever seen a ghost?” You burst into laughter at your own poor attempt at the joke, a rapid change of emotion, though in your defence, it’s definitely very funny. Your free hand tried to wipe the tears as you continued laughing, and Simon swore that this was truly the angels’ hymn eliciting from your mouth.

“Do I count?” He grinned behind his mask, the side of his eyes crinkling a bit. You quickly shook your head and stared at him with determined eyes, fully set on your question. “In that case, no. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one, love. But if I do, I’ll make sure to tell ‘em you said hello.”

If it was someone else like Kyle or Johnny who would be laughing about this joke, Simon was sure that he would have said something snarky or just straight up ignored them. But not with you, never with you.

“You’re the best.” You beamed, his heart squeezed painfully.

“We’re almost there.”

Upon arriving at your apartment complex, he dropped you off outside your apartment’s front door, the only thing in mind being to flee quickly so your sweet smile doesn’t taunt him anymore. Though he simply couldn’t, your fingers not letting go off his forearm at all. Too exhausted to figure out if it was intentional or not, he sighed under his breath and turned over to face you, brown eyes having a slight shine in them due to the hallway’s light.

“C’mon, you gotta go in and rest.” He couldn’t figure out why his breathing was falling short. Was it the alcohol? He barely drank anything.

You, on the other hand, tried your best to not look up at him and meet his eyes, knowing that it would shut you up. Like the intimidating gaze of a god, a warrior. You had to speak your mind, had to know about something, to ease the storm in your head.

“Are you getting bored of me?” These words slipped out of your lips as a meek whisper, forbidden.

It was a sickening feeling that ensued within Simon after that, as if something was grabbing his heart and trying to rip it out of his chest. Inhale, exhale. He didn’t know what exactly horrified him. Probably the fact that he knew what had caused you to think like that. The perfume.

O Angel, let me carve my heart out with a knife and hand it to you as an offering — apology. So may your hands embrace it and take me home, with thee. So may your fingers caress my cheek once again, and let my blood paint my skin.

“No.” He was embarrassingly quick to reply, fingers curling up into fists by his sides as he inhaled sharply. How could he put such thoughts into your head? How could I? Only a devil, the most evil being, could commit such atrocity.

You paused at his words, not knowing what else to say. No? Then why was that perfume there? You didn’t want him to think you were dumb enough to not notice that. “You’re lying…” Your voice cracked, and it was no longer the alcohol playing you like a puppet. It was you now. You felt like your own marionette. Stop speaking, fucking stop. “I am not dumb, Si. I saw that p-perfume on your couch the other day. Is that why you got mad at me?” God, stop talking please. “You could have just… said that you prefer other girls. Am I… Am I making a fucking fool out of myself here?” It terrified you, your own emotions terrified you. Your voice was rising just a bit, and all your feelings had their hands wrapped around your throat. Controlling you. You didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to say it out loud. You weren’t used to being so open about your mind, and now you felt like nothing but a cat shivering under the rain — alone and abandoned. Vulnerable, naked.

Maybe you and Simon weren’t so different after all. Vulnerability — just why did it terrify humans? Were the angels and the gods just as opposed to vulnerability?

“Oh, l-” Love. It almost slipped off his tongue, and he didn’t know if you even wanted him to call you that right now. The thought alone made him shudder uncomfortably. He didn’t know what to do — stuck in between two roads. Should he lie? Or tell you the truth? — That it was just one time, a drunken act that is nothing but lamentable to him.

Why were you both even acting like an actual couple right now?

He swallowed the lump that threatened to torture his throat, exhaling softly. “I was drunk, and it happened. She probably left her perfume accidentally.” He spilled the truth out. Just the way a mature person would. Don’t be fucking daft, Riley. His eyes assessed the subtle twitch of your brows at that, your lips quivering. He wished he could just lean in and kiss all the tears away, despite them not having landed on your cheeks. Hopefully they won’t.

“Oh…” Your response was too short, unsure and reluctant. It made Simon feel as if he had sinned once again, chains threatening to drag him into the darkest depths of Hell. Home — the one he was familiar with.

You swallowed nervously and looked down at your feet, your hand long having stopped holding his arm. Instead, your fingers were fiddling with one another anxiously. Why did you feel as if you were betrayed? A desperate cry for love, you wished you could say it to him. To his face, sob and scream about what you felt. He was the only one who understood, who was willing to understand. He was the only one who ever was, and who ever will be.

The agreement. It was no longer just fucking, it never was. Not since the day you saw him with Kyle, not since the day he talked with you after Kyle gestured at you. Never. Could he also see it all the way you did?

Your silence was a clear indicator of the fact that you were lost in your thoughts now. Simon’s eyes softened up, and before he could think rationally, his body reacted on its own and embraced you tightly against his chest, strong arms wrapping around you protectively.

“Fuck…” He cussed under his breath, despising how his voice was thickening up with emotion. He hugged you like an old dog messily giving affection to its owner. My angel, my angel. I sinned, I have sinned. I am sorry.

He pulled you impossibly close, as if wanting to mold his body into yours, to become one. He could be with you forever in that way, to be your breathing and you his heartbeat.

You didn’t even feel confused at his rapid action at all. Just broken, so broken. He was the hammer that had finally hit the dam, and broke it. “W-Why?” Your voice wavered and mixed into a sob, your hands tightened holding onto him, fingers threatening to dig deeper as you let your head rest against him, tears tickling your skin. “I am so tired… So tired, Si. I hate you…”

“Do you want me to leave?” His hold tightened despite his words.

“No.” Your words came out a bit more forcefully than you had intended, too anxious to let him go. You felt his right hand leaving your back, a soft whimper leaving your lips once you felt his lips, bare and real, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head, soon realising that he had taken his mask off. Too shy and messy in tears, you made no effort to look up at him and instead continued to cry, emotions desperate to keep pouring out and leave the imprisonment of your body. His hand continued to rub the back of your head while his other held your lower back, both of you unknowingly taking a few steps back and forth together, unable to stay still. It was as if you both were dancing slowly, like lovers.

“Alright. Hand me the keys, love.” You tentatively grabbed your keys from where you had kept it and handed it to him, your hands quickly latching onto him again. He carefully unlocked the front door of your apartment and led you inside, being extra cautious so he doesn’t accidentally step onto your feet. Closing the door by kicking it gently with one leg, he gently guided you towards the living room, easing you down onto the couch.

“Do you remember that creepy guy that came into the cafe?” Your voice was still shaky from crying, eyes all glossy as you finally looked at him, heart skipping a beat. Despite already having seen his face the last time, you still weren't used to it. Were you blessed?

He silently nodded and took a seat beside you, his arms leaving your sides so his large hands could cradle your face, thumbs tenderly wiping the drying up tears away while you talked, eyes looking everywhere but at him due to the sudden proximity. He didn't mind it at all, simply adored your sudden sheepishness.

“I still get scared at the thought of him… I don't want anyone like that to visit the cafe again. I-I don't think I can handle it.” Your voice gradually got quieter by the end, nibbling on your bottom lip. Oh, dear. Simon hadn’t told you that he had already beat that creep up. Now he somewhat wished that he had killed him instead. Surely Price would back him up if he made up some reason, yeah?

Your shoulders visibly eased up at that, your mind clearing a bit. Probably sobering up? You were sure that you weren't going to pick up a bottle of alcohol after this. Leaning into him, you decided to rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. Expecting a soft, calm rhythm — you were instead met with a fast thump, your brows furrowing though you decided not to comment on it.

“He wouldn't. No one will ever treat you like that again, love.” As long as I am here. Possessive yet guilty. He was vaguely promising to be by your side while always avoiding you, protecting you from himself. From the ugliness within him. No angel must spare a glance at a stray, especially not one used to violence.

His hands were playing with the fabric of your shirt now, mindlessly toying with it, feeling the texture under his skin as he gently tugged onto it. It felt oddly comforting, both of you not mentioning what happened outside the apartment a few minutes ago.

You looked up at him again, your eyes falling onto his lips this time. A bit chapped with a small scar adorning the side of his upper lip. You couldn't help but smile at the sight, leaning forward to place a bashful kiss on top of it. Simon let out a soft grumble at that, tilting his head to the side so he could kiss your lips properly, eyes fluttering shut alongside yours. He could taste some hints of your salty tears, his hands holding your waist while your hands held the back of his neck, letting his lips devour yours.

He held onto you gently, not wanting to be tight despite every fiber within him wanting to hold you fully against him once more, like a hound too eager to please.

Once he pulled away from the kiss, his heart skipped at the sight of your lips being all glossy. Ethereal. Your lips twitched into a giddy smile, and he could swear that he felt the heat radiating off you once it crept up onto your face. It felt soft, everything felt too soft and warm. The gentleness threatened to suffocate him once more, a mocking reminder of him being undeserving of such tranquility. He was supposed to be wed to the war, to violence. To the bloodshed that haunted his dreams. Not whatever this was.

But he refused to get up, not wanting to see any more of your tears. “We have to get you to bed. You need sleep.” He spoke quietly, a soft sigh leaving his lips once he felt your forehead pressing against his, letting you lean into him.

“Will you join me?” You normally would have never asked something like that, but the way he was holding you almost made you believe that he was willing to warm up a bit more with you.

Simon frowned at that, pulling his head back slightly. “We can't, you're drunk.”

Realising that he misunderstood you, blood rushed to your cheeks and you looked away in embarrassment, your voice getting timid. “No… I meant sleeping together. Nothing else.”

He paused, eyes softening up as the implication dawned on him. Sleeping together. Innocently domestic — something you both had never touched. He wanted to reject, to say that it’d be better for him to just leave. That could have been the better option anyways. Though he couldn't bring himself to refuse you, too enamoured, as if trapped in some spell by you.

“Fine.” He clicked his tongue in a poor attempt to appear reluctant, masking his inner eagerness. Helping you off the couch, he led you towards the bathroom first, opening the tap. “Let's wash your face first, yeah?”

He did everything — getting you in comfortable pajamas once he finished helping you clean up, even helping you in preparing the bed. Everything. It made you feel as if you were cared for, as if he was the warmth you had ached for throughout your life. The felicity had long spreaded within you once you laid down on bed, watching him lay down beside you.

He was tense, visibly so. You tentatively scooted towards him, a hand reaching out to settle onto his chest, to feel his heartbeat once again. Maybe in this way, you could sync your heart with his, build your own little bubble. Or was that too much to hope for?

“Thank you…” It just slipped out of your mouth like a soft prayer — a hidden whisper to be close to him so more.

“S'nothing.” His eyes looked over at you, taking in the contentment etched onto your face. He wanted to wrap his arms around you and hold you against him, to let you melt in his embrace while you slept. No. That's too much, that's crossing a line. A line made up in his head.

You're building your own grave, Simon. He despised his own mind for mocking him like this, for littering his head with unwanted thoughts. Just one night.

“Sleep now, love.” He whispered quietly, watching you reach over to turn the lamp off. You shuffled besides him again, letting the blanket cover you up.

Simon doesn’t remember the last time he had slept so nicely, your soft breathing his lullaby.

Upon waking up alone on your bed, a heavy feeling of dread settled on you alongside a throbbint headache. Had he left? Wasn't it just getting better?

Holding your heart together from cracking it with every strength you had, you tried to take a few deep breaths. Don’t panic, don't-

The sudden clinking sound from outside your bedroom made you jolt, and only now could you notice the pleasant aroma of something cooking. Sheepishly, you slid off the bed and tiptoed over to the door, poking your head out to look around. Able to make out some of Simon's figure through the open door of the kitchen, relief flooded deep within you. He's here.

“Good morning, Si…” You greeted him once you entered the kitchen, standing besides him, rubbing the weariness off your eyes. He gave a soft grunt of acknowledgement, focusing on cooking some breakfast.

“Your whole kitchen needs some restocking.” He mumbled, sparing a small glance over at you. You stayed quiet, a bit embarrassed by his observance. You were planning on restocking it soon, anyways.

The morning went by like a pleasant breeze, your mood ever so joyous today. You felt light, as if floating on the clouds and reaching the stars, as if becoming one of them, alongside Simon. He hadn't mentioned much about last night at all, even gave you some pills and an offer for a head massage. You had declined it, mostly because you didn't want to show how greatly affected you were by the subtle signs of care laced in his actions, despite it being already evident all over you.

You didn't know what had driven you to act in the way you did in the afternoon. Maybe you shouldn't have opened your mouth, just kept it shut and complied.

“Si, I um… I want to talk to you about something.” You paused the monotonous movie literally none of you were actually focusing on, turning over the couch to face him, your fingers tightly curled on your lap, digging into your flesh.

Maybe it was just your heart acting out, feeling as if things had changed. Foolishly clinging onto the thin strong of hope, never learning. Never learning that touching stray dogs was bad, they had fleas. Fleas that had already infected you, threatening to devour you.

“I think… Uh- I was wondering- I just-” Fumbling over your words, all you could hear was the loud beating of your own heart, each nerve of yours set on fire. Anxious, too anxious. You wanted to throw up. “I wanted to tell you that I really… like you, and-” Your words drowned into heavy silence once you took note of just how silent Simon was, how he was frowning.

A fool. A fool who dreamt too much, who was too lost amidst the heavenly clouds of tranquility. A fool who did everything to avoid reality — that's what you felt like.

“No.” His reply was rather abrupt, clear. The subtle smile on your lips fell, and Simon wished to do nothing more than drown into a river. “You don't like me.”

“I-I do!” Unbelievable, did he not believe that you like him? Even love him.

“You shouldn't.” That came out more roughly than he had intended to, a little snarl escaping his throat. “We've already discussed it, this is nothing.’

You should have shut up at that, should have somehow sewed your lips together and quieted down. You couldn't, instead growing more agitated, more on edge. “You can't say that, Si! D-Don't you see whatever it is that we're doing?” You whimpered in exasperation, trying to keep your voice from trembling, miserably failing. “I care for you! I do, and you care for me too. I can see it…” Vision progressively growing blurrier with incoming tears, you looked away and tried to ignore the sting in your eyes, your breath shuddering. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Simon was at a loss of words himself, his heart aching to kiss your tears away and plead for forgiveness. He was a cruel, cruel man. Cruel for being so terrified, cruel for being so persistent.

O Angel, forgive me for I can't let you love me, for light should never kiss the shadow.

“You shouldn't…” He repeated his words again, his voice quieter, weaker. A plea, a request. You shook your head, a sob erupting from your throat as you tried to reach out for him.

He pulled away just as quick, your hand never meeting his. An ocean that could never touch the moon, a man that could never touch a star.

“I need to leave.” Hastily he turned around and walked out of your apartment, leaving you speechless, hand still shamefully held out. Frozen and alone, unloved.

Simon Riley was a coward.

Simon had lost count of how many bottles he had drank by now. Feeling horribly, horribly similar to his father. A drunkard, disgusting. He thought the alcohol could wash his emotions away, drown them hopefully — all it did was make him even more vulnerable, his glossy eyes staring off at a distance.

Weak. Ironically enough, this brute was nothing but weak. Everyone should be laughing at him, you should be laughing at him. Laugh at him for not knowing how to love properly, for being so quick to run away.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing, making him click his tongue in irritation that soon melted away once he noticed the caller ID.

Price.

He picked it up and listened to his captain's words, each syllable both a stab and a blessing.

A deployment again, finally.

notes — i apologise for uploading it after A WHOLE MONTH. blaming it on the writerphew, a deployment! this could mean many things. also a heads up that either chapter 6 or chapter 7 will be the last one (made some changes to my plan!)

[extremelyblackandwhite]

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note:  hey guys! it's me, like wayyyy too many months later but i did promise i would post it this year even if it's like next year in a few hours but here it is!

masterlist

oh oh i'm falling in love, oh no i'm falling in love again, oh, i'm falling in love i thought the plane was going down how'd you turn it right around

Y/N stared in disbelief at the Sergeant, not entirely sure if she had heard him correctly. Maybe it was the Scotch. Could Scotch go bad, could it expire? Sure old Scotch was better than a recent one but surely there was some sort of limit as to how long a liquid can sit lost in time until it gives you some sort of poisoning. Surely malt and water couldn't last forever without causing some sort of illness or hallucination which would explain why Bucky Barnes had just told her he loved her. Or maybe he told her that he loathed her, that would make more sense.

      - I'm sorry, I think I didn't hear it right ... What did you say? - she asked and Bucky swore she was trying to kill him or maybe embarrass him. However, his ego was high on the three glasses of Scotch he already had.

      - I said I loved you.

      - You love me? - what else was there to ask. Maybe she was mishearing him again, yet it came more of a disbelief rambling rather than the question she meant it to be.

      - Yes. - he said, moving closer to her, his eyes more interested in the shade of her lips rather than her eyes which were sure to bring any grown men to their knees. - I love you, I really, really like you Y/N.

      - Like a friend?

Had Y/N been anyone else Bucky would've probably laughed and had Bucky been anyone else Y/N would hide in her bedroom until he disappeared. Things were ... different, she guessed. It felt different to hear it from him, different than when she heard it from Christopher or her first boyfriend or the first guy she ever liked. It felt unsure in the way which she didn't know how to reply, she didn't know when to reply. It was a mature and immature feeling, threading almost along the line of paradoxical. It was if the feeling itself verified her madonna persona yet tempted the whore which laid under, the temptress. It was both tempting and comforting for something that was so out of her reasonable comfort zone.

      - No, not like a friend. - he was close enough she could smell the remnants of his cologne, the scent of scotch in his breathe. - I love you like lovers do.

      - Is that what we are? Lovers?

      - Are you ever not questioning me?

      - It's a fair question, isn't it? - she raised her brow almost in defiance and moved closer, tempting him further. - I thought you liked my questions.

Bucky rolled his eyes before his hands grabbed her hips and moved her closer so their noses touched. They stared into each others eyes for what felt like a while, the mere sound of the wind brushing through the trees outside sounding like electricity until he made his move, moving closer until their lips collided. As if they'd done , they move closer to each other, their bodies pressing together in a heated embrace. Their lips meet in a passionate, lustful kiss, and the world around them fades away as they lose themselves in the moment. She pulled away, biting her lip almost in a painfully shy manner.

      - I should go back upstairs. I have to take Sadie to school tomorrow. - she cleared her throat, wiping her cheeks as if she could wipe the heat of her cheeks.

      - Of course. - Bucky moved away as she got up from the couch. - Hey, I can take her if you want to sleep. It's fine, I can go to the office later.

      - It's fine, it's my job. Uh ... good night, Sergeant.

She ran up the stairs like an embarrassed school girl, almost tripping on the bottom of her pyjama trousers, and rushed into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. What was she doing? She couldn't make out with her boss, that went against her contract ... I mean, it wasn't like there was a clause stipulating she couldn't make out with Bucky yet it was still highly unprofessional. He was her boss, her very attractive, tall and rugged handsome boss ... but her boss. Her boss who was sometimes unprofessional himself, he had even inserted himself into the Christopher situation. Still, she was a professional and a professional doesn't make out with her boss.

She laid down in bed with a huff, staring at the lights in the ceiling of her bedroom. Did Bucky had the same lights in his ceiling? He probably did, this was his house after all. The same house she was living in for free, the same house of the man who paid her a really good salary.

      - Y/N? - a knock on her door interrupted her mind's rambling. She got up and opened to see Bucky staring at his feet. - I wanted to apologise if I made you feel uncomfortable, it was unprofessional on my part.

      - No, no, it's my fault too, I mean ... I kissed you back. - she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

      - Please don't apologise, I should've known better but it's damn good scotch, which isn't really an excuse. - he started rambling himself, looking at her like a high schooler would look a girl he really wanted to take on a date. It was cute. - Maybe we shouldn't drink more scotch.

      - Yeah, you're probably right.

He shrugged playfully before turning to go to back to his bedroom before he could do anything else he would regret, however, Y/N was still very much considering whether she should do something that she could regret tomorrow.

      - Sergeant Barnes? - she called after him, almost in a faint whisper so his daughter wouldn't wake up. - Are you gonna ask me out?

      - Excuse me?

      - You said you loved me. Are you gonna ask me out?

      - Do you want me to ask you out? - he smirked, crossing his arms.

      - I'm not gonna answer that question. - she met him in the middle with an equal smirk. - I wasn't the one who said I love you.

      - Yeah but I wasn't the one asking the boss to ask her out.

      - Ask me out, Barnes.

      - Is that an order?

Bucky was close, close enough she could see the smile lines resulting from and she couldn't help herself, she didn't want to help herself. She kissed him, her hand placed on the back of his neck as they kissed. It wasn't soft or sensual, it was needy, as if they would cease to exist. She pulled him towards her bedroom, her hands grabbing at his jumper to pull it over his head. She had heard he was very well built and she had caught glances of him shirtless before but seeing it so up close, every defined muscle, the texture of his skin made her want to scold herself for not having looked harder the other times.

      - I don't think I've been in this bedroom for this long. - he pulled her shirt over her head as he looked around the bedroom. It was her bedroom after all and she wasn't in the mood to usually let him inside to see anything. - Or seen you shirtless this long.

      - Do you ever stop talking? - Bucky smiled and looked at her.

His hands wandered down to her hips and his thumbs lightly brushed over her hips. He pinned her against the door, his leg between hers as he pressed himself closer to her. His lips drew a pattern from behind her ear to her collarbone, his fingers snapping her bra strap against her skin.

      - Do you know how long I've waited for this? - he chuckled as he felt her body close to his, the shape of her breasts pressed against his chests and the sweet nothings of the moans she was trying to keep from escaping. - You've been tempting me since the moment you walked through my door.

He chuckled as she held in a gasp, his body moving closer and closer to her. He turned her around, kissing her hard again and threw her in the body, covering her uncovered body with kisses as he massaged her skin. She felt him slide his hands just a bit further down, kissing and softly bitting her skin. The feelings are overwhelming and the mere foreplay of kissing and massaging is sending shivers down her body. Everything about him was making her go crazy.

      - Bucky, please. - he smiled and he kissed back as he let his fingers move down a just little lower. He leaned in and nuzzled into her more.

His thumb pressed over her clit just over her cotton white underwear, rolling it in small and torturously slow motions making her moan. The fabric moistened under his finger making him smirk as he extended his neck to kiss hers.

      - You're so wet. - he chuckled as he kissed down her legs and to the laced hem of her underwear. - You wanted me just as much as I wanted you.

      - Wait, what are you doing? - she cupped his face, pulling him up.

      - I'm gonna eat you out, baby. What does it look like?

      - I've never had anyone do that to me before so maybe we could skip it?

      - Christopher didn't eat you out? - he chuckled. - No wonder you're so wound up over some over the underwear play. No one is treating you right.

      - You really wanna talk exes?

      - If you let me eat you out, you won't regret it. - he looked at her waiting for her consent. Y/N weighed out the options and the benefits, mostly considering her memories of when Sadie was at her grandmother's and Bucky brought in flavour of the month Samantha and for the whole week Y/N could hear nothing but loud moaning. She wanted the loud moaning as well so she nodded her head.

Bucky grinned like a devil, kissing down her collarbone all the way to the hem of her underwear. His hands slide inside her underwear, pulling it down her legs and throwing it somewhere into the floor. He kissed the side of her knee, the 2 day old stubble of his unshaved beard burning the skin in a very good manner. His kisses continued down her knee to her calf as he placed her legs on his shoulders and lowered down to her heat. Bucky swore in that moment he could happily die in the middle of her legs happily surrounded by her scent. He kissed and bit the inside of her thighs, definitely leaving marks which would make sure she would never forget. His thumbs spread her wide open and his head fully lowered now, his tongue licking a long yet slow strip up to her clit. The sensation was new for sure, it was nothing like what she had ever felt before and as she was learning to adapt to the new feelings his tongue was causing, he starting suckling on her clit, his tongue ever so slightly teasing the top of it. She gasped in a moan, her hands gripping at his hair.

      - Bucky! - she said in between shallow breathes bringing him immense enjoyment that he was causing her. He started eating her out like a starved man, her fluids coating his chin and neck as he went in for another lick before he started to use his fingers. Her nails gripped the sheets.

      - Chris didn't treat you like this? - he came back up biting the side of her knee. - I bet not, which is why you're so wet.

      - Go back. - she almost pouted and Bucky couldn't say no. He went back down and started suckling on her clit while his fingers pumping in and out of her hole. Her fingers tightened around the sheets and on his hair and she started to see black spots in her vision, she attempted to control her breathe but found herself unable to do so as Bucky's mouth and fingers brought her to orgasm.

Her back fully hit the mattress and she stared at the lights in her bedroom with her mouth softly open as her breathes came out softly. Bucky kissed his way up to the corner of her mouth before fully kissing her, his knee rubbing against her core. She whimpered, leaning her forehead against his shoulder.

      - You're good? - he asked, kissing the side of her head.

      - I'm good. - her hands made their way to the top of his sweats, trying to pull them down.

      - Someone's needy. - he grinned as he helped her shake him out of his sweats and underwear. He grabbed her thighs and put her in positions before grabbing his cock and lining it up with her entrance. He looked into her eyes once more looking for reassurance before he sheathed himself inside her, groaning as he did so. Her legs wrapped around his hips, helping him bottom out as he leaned towards her to kiss her once more. - Can I move, baby?

      - Yes, please.

His hips moved ever so slightly making her moan which was a sign for him to move. His hand held hers and he began to thrust in and out, his balls hitting her bottom as he did. He drowned her moans with a kiss, moving again fast enough to make the headboard hit the wall. The bedroom filled up with their moans and the smell of sex as she reached the her last orgasm of the night. Once Bucky felt her release, he began chasing his own, throwing his head back and groaning. He finished inside of her, ropes of white spilling out from her hole and in the sheets.

He fell to her side and smiled, merely happy to look at the sight of her before the two fell asleep.

(...)

She woke up next morning to the faint chatter and laughter downstairs. She rubbed her eyes, looking at the state of the room. Memories came rushing to her and she couldn't help but slightly smiled as she wrapped herself in her robe and made her way downstairs. Sadie was dressed and was sat at the table eating pancakes while Bucky was nursing a cup of coffee.

      - Daddy did your hair, huh? - she said to Sadie as she reached her, noticing her lobbed ponytail. She took the scrunchie off and started to plaid the hair.

      - Thank you! - she said through the food she was eating.

      - Sleep well? - Bucky asked as he hid a smirk behind his coffee cup.

      - I did, did you? Sore? - she asked as she grabbed a cup of coffee herself. - You look a bit blushed still, Sergeant.

      - Are you busy this afternoon?

      - Depends.

      - Reservations downtown at 7?

taglist: @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82 @winters1917 @vladsgirlxx @stinkerbelle007 @maybefoxysouls @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @chipilerendi @kandis-mom @belennasif @abitofblues @feddefy

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

oooh I got one! prompt 74 with any of the follower!bishops, where they get hurt on a crusade and reader, who is a healer finds them and helps them <333

74) "I think I broke my leg!"

.......

"I can't believe this...betrayed by my own-!!"

"Lord Kallamar?"

Surprised by the voice, Kallamar looked up at you, the figure dressed in white tattered robes, clean of any and all ichor. The metal halo behind your head reflected the sunlight from above Anchordeep, making it seem as though it were glowing.

Now he remembers.

You're one of the many nameless Healers in his former army of cultists and devotees. He thought most of them were culled by the Lamb at this point, yet you were somehow still alive.

"You have returned to us in such a miniscule form." You mused, to which you saw him tense up, trying to shuffle away.

So far, every creature here was trying to kill him during his crusade, and he wasn't sure if you were going to be any different.

He knew should've gone to the tailor first; at least they wouldn't attack him on-sight just because his red robes remind them of the Lamb..and that his defeat permanently shattered his image as a leader.

"Back away from me! I'm---ow!!!" Feeling a sudden sharp pain in one of his legs, Kallamar stopped moving and looked down, realizing it didn't look quite right. "Ah...a-ahaha...I-I think I broke my leg...!"

"Do not fear, my lord. I will make it all better." Floating down to the ground, you gently reached your hands out to him, green magic appearing from your fingertips. "How did this happen, if I may ask?"

"Well..I fell.." He mumbled quietly, and you looked at him, mishearing him.

"What happened?"

"I-I fell while fleeing from one of those sea creatures..." Red dusted his face as he averted his gaze, embarrassed to be seen like this--especially by someone he used to rule over.

But you seemed to show absolutely no bias nor resentment towards him, even though he now wore the same robes of the enemy cult.

Part of him was afraid you'd refuse and leave him to suffer on his own, although he remembers that your singular job is to be a healer. And despite knowing that he wasn't some all-powerful god anymore and allowed himself to be beaten by Lamb into submission...you wanted to help him anyways. You didn't huff or laugh or show any indication that you thought of him as pathetic for breaking his leg over a simple fall.

Instead, you quietly allowed your magic to go to work, mending the broken done and repairing the torn flesh. Soon it set itself back into place without causing him further pain, making it good as new.

Like nothing even happened.

"You should be good now, my lord. Do be careful with your new mortal vessel." Bowing your head, you rose to your feet and watched as Kallamar slowly got up.

"Only now I see how fragile this body is..damned Lamb.." He grunted, checking out his leg before picking up his backpack. Then he gazed up at you. "What's your name?"

You blinked. "My name..?"

"Yes, that's what I said. I never knew your name, but I wanna know it now."

"I see, then...I'm [y/n]." You answered, surprised and flattered that he asked.

It's been so long since you've said your name to anyone, that you've almost forgotten it entirely.

"Well, [y/n]..would you care to accompany me for the remainder of my crusade? I was sent to retrieve as many crystal shards as I could carry...but I keep running into dead ends, and death traps.." Kallamar shuddered. "And I-"

"You needn't worry, my lord. I would be happy to join you." Although he couldn't see your smile under your hood, he could hear the delight in your voice, and chuffed.

Why were you so kind to him? Why did you treat him as though he was still your ruler?

"None of this bothers you at all?" He vaguely gestured to himself. "You don't see me as your "enemy"?"

"I only see the injured and the sick, and I heal them." You assured him, chuckling softly. "Do not fret. It matters not what form you take or how limited it is, my lord-"

"Okay, I'm not your "lord" anymore. Just Kallamar is fine."

"...very well, Kallamar. Then let us go. I know a safe path."

[pinkrose787]

You Can't Spell Apologize Without Lie

Summary: Bill comes into Ford's dream to apologize.

Ao3 Link

Ever since Bill died, Ford has slept a lot easier. No longer does he have to worry about that damn demonic triangle invading his dreams and tormenting him with threats of destroying his dimension.

That was until tonight.   

In tonight’s dream, he is in the Mystery Shack back when it was still his laboratory. It’s vivid in a way that his dreams never are. Except for whenever he dreamt about Bill.

“Hiya, Sixer! Did ya miss me? Admit it, you missed me.” A familiar perky voice comes from behind him.

Ford swivels around. Standing, or more precisely floating, before him is his triangular tormentor. Exactly the same as he was when Ford last saw him. Except for the crack that runs across his face filled with static. Likely a scar from when Stan punched Bill.

His eye has that smile to it. A smile that used to make Ford’s heart flutter with affection for his “muse”. Now, his heart pounds in fear of his manipulator. “Bill! You’re supposed to be dead!”

“But I’m not! I’m here!”

He takes a step back. A pointless action given Bill’s abilities. “Leave my mind this instant!”

Bill puts up his hands like he’s trying to soothe a panicked horse. He floats closer to Ford. “Listen, I will eventually. But I want you to hear me out first. Please.”

That gives Ford pause. In all his years of knowing Bill, never once did he say please. And there’s a genuineness in his voice. A vulnerability to it. But it could all be a trick. That’s what Bill does. He tricks and deceives to get what he wants.

Bill sighs. His eye looks at the ground. “I know you don’t trust me. And I know why. But it’s been so long. I’ve changed.”

“It’s only been 3 years. That’s barely any time to me, and almost nothing to you.”

“Where I’m at time works differently. It’s been 3 years to you and several eons to me.” He floats over to Ford. Puts his arm over his shoulder, the exact same way that he used to when Ford admired him. Likely a trick to get him to trust him. “You’re a smart guy, you get how all this relativity stuff works.”

Ford pushes Bill off of him. This time his tricks aren’t going work on him. “I don’t care where you are or how time works! I want you gone!”

“Look, I’ve spent all this time being ‘dead’,” He uses air quotes when he says dead. “in this asylum that makes Hell look like Disney World. There’s been nothing to do except reflect on my life.”

“It sounds like you’re in a place that you belong.”

“Yeah, I am.”

That’s not the answer Ford was expecting. At least, not said so sincerely. Still, he can’t forget that this is probably a trick. “So, you’re here to escape from there? That’s it, isn’t it?”

“No! No.” Bill shakes his head. “I came here to apologize.”

“You came here to apologize?” Ford heard him correctly. He knows he did. It’s impossible for him to mishear Bill in these dreams. The concept of Bill ever apologizing is so alien to him that mishearing a voice that is psychically projected into his head is more plausible.

“Yes, I did.” Bill takes off his hat. He holds it in his hands. “I realized that I messed up. Badly. You were the best thing to happen to me in a trillion years, and I didn’t see that. I was blinded by my own ambition and after destroying my dimension I was too scared to let anyone get to close. So, I told myself that you were nothing but a tool to me. A means to an end. But you weren’t. You were everything to me. You were the one person who could understand me.”

A tear forms in Bill’s eye. Combined with holding his hat in hands, he looks so vulnerable and pathetic. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“So, you came here for forgiveness. Let me guess, this asylum place will only let you out if  get forgiveness from everyone you’ve ever wronged.” He looks Bill straight in the eye. “Well, you’re not getting it from me.” 

Bill puts his hat back on. It seems like he’s actually hurt by what Ford said? “That’s not it. They actually didn’t want me coming back here. They said it was a bad idea.”

“Well, maybe they were right. You should have never come back here.”

“I know, I just…”

“Just what? Just thought apologizing would undo everything you’ve done?” Ford’s voice starts to rise. “You manipulated me. You tortured me. You tried to kill my family. You damn near destroyed my dimension! I almost lost my brother because of you!”

“No! I…” Bill shouts.

Ford ignores him. “Do you want to know the worst thing you did?”

He looks Bill straight in his eye. Making sure that the demon is listening to his next words. “You made me fall in love with you. Even after every horrible thing you did to me, I still loved you! Even though I knew it was stupid and irrational to love someone who only wanted to hurt me, I still did!”

For once in his life, Bill Cipher doesn’t have anything to say.

“There were even parts of my brain telling me that it wasn’t that bad. That I’m being overdramatic. That being with you is better than being without you. And these thoughts tortured me for years. They haunted me on my coldest nights when I journeyed through the dimensions.”

“I’ve changed! I’m better now! I swear!” Bill cries.

“Well, I don’t care how much better you are! You could be the kindest person in all the dimensions who saves kittens from trees and I wouldn’t give a damn. Because it doesn’t matter how much you’ve changed, it still doesn’t negate all the horrible things you did!”

“I know that. But…”

“But nothing.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought that apologizing would help you heal. Give you closure and all that junk.”  

“You thought it would heal me. Thought it would give me closure.” Ford rolls his eyes. “Well thank you for your consideration, but I was healing fine without you. I had just gotten to the point where I’m able to see a yellow triangle without spiraling into a panic attack. But now that’s in the trash, because of you.”

Bill rubs his arm. Not looking Ford in the eyes. “I really thought it would help.” He says in a low voice. “Honest.”

“Do you want to know how I know you haven’t changed? Every single sentence is about how you feel, what you think, how what you’ve done has affected you. There hasn’t been a single time where you have acknowledged how your actions have hurt me. You haven’t even done the bare minimum of asking how I’ve been doing. Because if you did you’d know that I’ve been doing better than I ever have without you.”

“Well, you haven’t given me an opportunity to. You keep cutting me off.”

“Because every time you open your damn mouth, you manipulate me. Every. Single. Time. But I’m not going let you this time. I’m done with you and your lies.”

Bill sighs. “I’m done with all of that. I promise.”

“Goodbye, Bill. If I never see you again, I want you to know that I hate you. More than I have ever hated anyone. You ruined my life, and for that I’ll never forgive you.”

What seems to be tear forms in Bill Cipher’s eye. “I’m sorry.” His voice fades.

Ford wakes up with a jolt. He’s covered in sweat. His breathing is heavy.

He looks around. He’s no longer in the dream.

Now, he’s back in the cabin of the Stan o’ War II. Stan sleeps on the bunk below him. The sound of his snores fill the cabin. The ship creaks as the waves rock it back and forth.

There’s no chance of him falling back asleep. He doesn’t want to risk seeing Bill again. That and his heart is still pounding in his chest. Looking at his watch, it reads 3 am.

He climbs out of bed, careful not to wake Stan, and heads out onto the deck.

It isn’t much lighter out here, but at least there are the stars. Out here in the Artic, there’s no light pollution. The stars shine brilliantly. Ford can find all the different constellations without needing a map of the sky. Ursa Major, Orion, Gemini.

If there is one thing Ford missed during his travel through the dimensions it was the stars. Sure, there were countless stars in all sorts of dimensions. But none of them equated to the beauty of the ones in this one. Looking at them he’s reminded that he’s back.

He’s home.

Though the stars are a source of comfort, there’s still a deep panic within him. Bill is back. He talked to him. His adrenaline levels are the same as if he was being hunted by a polar bear. Frankly, he’d rather deal with a polar bear than Bill.

He hears the floorboards creak behind him. Seems like Stan woke up. “You’re up early. You trying to map out the stars or something?” Stan says.

“I saw Bill in my dream,” Ford says point-blank. There’s no point in hiding it. Nor does he want to. He doesn’t want to be alone in dealing with Bill anymore. Every single time he’s tried, it’s almost ruined his life.

“Are you sure? You have been having a lot dreams about Bill since Weirdmageddon.” The worry in Stan’s voice is palpable.

Ford sighs. “This dream didn’t resemble any of the others. All of those dreams are strange and disjointed. Jumping from one event to another for seemingly no reason. This was one was as clear as day.”

“So he’s back? How? I killed that little triangle jerk!” Stan exclaims.

“You did. He’s still dead, and he has a scar on his face to prove it. I think he told me that he’s in some sort of prison dimension now?” Ford sighs. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What else did he say? Because I swear if that wise guy threatened you-” Stan shakes his fist.

“No, he didn’t threaten me. In fact, he apparently came because he wanted to apologize."

“Apologize? That’s gotta be some sort of trick.”

“That’s what I thought too, but no he seemed genuinely sincere.”

“Eh, I doubt it. I know the likes of him.” Stan leans back against the railing of the boat. “Met plenty of them over the course of my life. And let me tell you their apologies are never sincere.”

Ford rests his arms on the railing. “You may be right.” He sighs. “It just doesn’t make sense to me. I keep thinking I have Bill figured out, then he pulls something like this.”

“You should take what you do know about him, that he’s a lying conniving jerk who wanted to kill you and destroy our dimension, and base your opinion on that. So, he apologized.” Stan shrugs. “That’s just words. Don’t mean nothing.”

“You’re right.”

“Course, I am. I’m always right!”

“What frustrates me is that I feel like I’ve gone backwards. Right when I thought I put everything to rest.” Ford hits the railing. “He comes back and ruins it. Now, I feel like I did before Weirdmageddon. Terrified that he’s going to come back and destroy me.”

Stan puts his arm over Ford. “Look, how bout this? Next time, he comes back, I’ll go into your dream and punch him dead again.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Eh, I’m sure you’ll find a way with that smart guy brain of yours.” Stan starts giving ford a noogie.

Ford laughs. “Okay, okay. I’ll find a way to let you into my dreams.” He playfully pushes Stan away.

“Good. Cause there ain’t no way I’m letting that stupid little jerk come back and hurt you again. You hear?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He has a smile on his face. Most of the tension in Ford’s body is gone. Stan always was able to bring Ford back down and out of his own head when they were kids. Frankly, he doesn’t know how he managed without Stan.

But then again, he does know. He didn’t. He got swindled by a demon and became a criminal in multiple dimensions. Not a single part of Ford doubts the idea that if he had let Stan back in a lot earlier, then none of that would have happened.

There’s a moment of silence between the two of them. “Hey, Stan.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

[not-poignant]

Daily excerpt from today's reading-through-to-write-the-next-chapter, chapter 115 of Underline the Black:

They drove up a slope, and as they came over the other side, three vehicles with blue and red flashing lights raced by. ‘There they go,’ Michael said. ‘The good news is I don’t think we have a tail at all! Police lights haven’t lit up any cars behind us, and they’d be damned fools to drive with their headlights off out here. So it’s just you and me for the next few hours. All comfy cosy.’ Efnisien felt like they could have been driving in space, with how dark everything was. He didn’t like it at all. He wanted to ask if Gary knew that Michael maybe thought some strange things about Efnisien being an alpha. Michael had seemed fine with it all at Hillview. ‘The truth is,’ Michael said, ten minutes later, when Efnisien had convinced himself he was mishearing things because he was so afraid, ‘I think Gary meant well with you, but come on, now, ardolphogen’s just bad in high doses. That shit’ll kill anyone who’s not supposed to take it. Besides, don’t you think it’s worth finding out how much omega is left? I do. It’s a dream, really. I think we’ve all met alphas who would be better off as omegas. I could list like fifteen clients off the bat who would do better being put in their place.’ Efnisien swallowed. For a moment, he was too scared to look at Michael’s face, too scared to see whatever expression was behind those words. ‘I’m... I’m both,’ Efnisien said finally. ‘You have to know you’re not going back,’ Michael said, his voice tinged with sadness. ‘You know that, right? You’re not a fool, and Gary said you were intelligent. Hillview can’t keep you. They’re sending you off with another psychologist for a reason.’ Michael laughed. ‘God, that is sharp. It’s like we just got to the coast, but it’s you, isn’t it? Wow. Now, come on, it’s not worth being scared. You’re going to feel better with me, and I’m going to take good care of you. We have your meds so it’s not like you’ll have to stop taking them overnight or anything. But I think to speed up the bonding process, we’ll look into inducing a heat. What do you say to that?’ ‘Gary wouldn’t... He wouldn’t...’

[thehypnone]

go hypnone, if it's okay could I ask for something with rain and his physical pains? my feet and wrist have flaired up for no real reason this week and it made me think of him.

never gonna say no to some projecting onto rain. also i hope your feet and wrist stop giving you hard time asap :/

580 words, hurt/comfort/fluff

“Did my favorite water ghoul die in his sleep?” Swiss burst through Rain’s door, no regards to anyone’s privacy as usual. He walked over to the bed and the Rain-shaped lump on it. “It’s nearing lunch and you haven’t had breakfast. You love breakfast, raincloud, are you okay?”

“What do you think?” he growled from under all the covers.

“Rain,” Swiss said sternly, in that specific voice that the water ghoul knew all too well. He and Swiss had made an arrangement ages ago, that when Rain acted like an asshole towards someone who didn’t deserve it because of his pain, Swiss would scold him. It worked.

“‘m sorry,” Rain mumbled.

“It’s alright.” The multi ghoul smiled sadly, knowing now that it was indeed a bad day for Rain. He sat by him on the edge of the bed and put a hand over the lump made of Rain and the bedding. “Can I see your pretty face, princess?”

With a loud grumble the lump shifted and Rain’s head poked out, eyes puffy with purple under them. “Hi, Bambi.”

“Hi, Swiss.”

The multi ghoul laid down on his side—as close to Rain as the blankets and comforters he had wrapped around himself would allow—and kissed the tip of his nose. “I’m sorry, princess. It sucks. Anything I can do?”

“No, it’ll pass, just–” the water ghoul sighed. “Just lay with me, okay? Hold me?”

Swiss smiled and leaned in for another kiss, this time to the other’s lips. “Always, raincloud.”

He shucked off his jeans as Rain wiggled an arm out to lift the contents of his nest. Swiss chuckled at that—the reminder about how a nest should look like on the tip of his tongue. The water ghoul was famous for getting under his nest rather than into it.

Swiss crawled back in and laid on his back, letting Rain choose how he wanted to cuddle, also not wanting to jostle his aching vessel by pulling him close. The water ghoul shuffled down a bit and glued himself to the other’s side, laying his head on Swiss’ chest.

“Can you warm me up a bit, too?” Rain asked, looking up at Swiss with his big, cerulean blue eyes. The multi ghoul nodded, leaning down to kiss the water ghoul as he kicked up his temperature. He smuggled a tiny bit of quintessence between the waves of infernal heat. He immediately felt a bit guilty for that, knowing Rain didn’t exactly agree to it, but he couldn’t not do it. 

“I love you, princess,” Swiss muttered quietly into his hair, squeezing him tightly, but carefully. “Every damn day I wish I could just– take it all away from you, you have no idea–”

“Swiss,” Rain said. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know it’s not, but–”

“Baby, you do blame yourself. You stink of it,” the water ghoul chuckled, poking Swiss’ belly under the comforters. 

“Excuse me– I don’t stink!”

“Well, not all the time. Just when you're sick with worry for your… favorite water ghoul? That’s what you said or did I mishear?” Rain threw a leg over the multi ghoul’s thighs and laid himself out on top of him, his chin perched up on his sternum.

“Oh, it’s not like you have a lot of competition… but yeah,” Swiss laughed, “I guess you are. And I guess I may stink sometimes, but it’s the smell of love, Bambi.”

The water ghoul grinned and batted his eyelashes at him. “Sure, sure… I love you, too.”

[scribbling-toby]

I think we can all agree that season eight of VLD sucks. It wasn’t well written and the Allura/Lance relationship was so rushed.

But

I personally like only one episode. And a couple seconds of episode one. I hate the rest of episode one, it was so rushed.

I loved the episode where it was kind of like a vlog of what it was like on the ship, it was a really interesting concept, and I just liked how the episode felt compared to all the other episodes in the show.

In the first episode, when I was rewatching the show, at around 19-ish minutes I think(???), right before the toast to whatever whatever, Lance is refusing to set Keith up on a date with his sister, and in the background while Allura and his mom are talking you can hear him say “never! Not in a million decapheobs! Okay? All that guy likes are knives and space wolf! Holy moly that would be terrible! No! No!… and he’s gay.”

SO LIKE??? I COULD BE MISHEARING IT, BUT SEVERAL OTHER PEOPLE I KNOW HAVE BEEN LIKE “YEAH I HEARD AND HES GAY” SO???

Honestly idk if anyone else noticed, but this is the only good parts about season eight. It still sucks.

[novamixs]

change - iwaizumi

it’s hard to feel normal when you’re anything but. you wake up, wondering how many more days you’ll have to until it’s over. you get up, dreading the state you’ll see yourself in as you look into the bathroom mirror. you can’t recognize yourself. when did you start looking like such a mess? you decide that today is the day you’ll make things better for yourself.

take a shower, brush your teeth, change your clothes, then lose around 36% of your motivation when you see the pile of dirty clothes in the corner of the bedroom. that can wait for tomorrow. you’re getting better after all, right? baby steps! you open the window in the kitchen, taking a moment to manipulate yourself into thinking things will change, but this happens every time. mid contemplation, your stomach growls. you’re hungry. it’s been quite a while since you’ve felt that feeling. 

you open the fridge with a bit of force (did you get weaker?) only to find a spoiled carton of milk, some apples, and an energy drink. guess a meal will have to wait until later. or tomorrow. at this point in your day, around 50% of the motivation to get better has faded away, and the other half never existed in the first place. you made it two hours without going back to bed - a record for the week!

walking back to your bedroom is your version of the walk of shame; today is just another failed attempt of feeling like you have a purpose. you sink into the familiar comfort of your too-big-for-one-person bed. your eyes drift shut, just as they have for the last three days, and in 10 minutes you’re out cold. your mind has decided to have mercy on you today and not let you have time to think about what the hell you’re doing with your life. 

your eyes flutter open at a rough 6:45 am, the earliest you’ve been up in a while. today is the day, you think. having woken up this early was enough to convince yourself you have the ability to rule the world. the routine continues: shower, teeth, change, save the laundry for tomorrow. in your new outfit for the day, you decide it’s a great day to go to the coffee shop down the street.

you squint your eyes as you walk outside, the sun smiling in your face as if it’s saying i am everything you aren’t! i am related to happiness and warmth and good days! you decide that the sun is not going to ruin your day. today is supposed to be the day! you were up early, you put on a decent outfit that won’t earn you weird looks, you went out of the building, what could possibly ruin this for you?

a coffee shop can. that’s what. what in the world were you thinking, coming to a place where every chirpy morning person in the world is at the same time? you debate turning around, but are reminded of the sun as it beats down onto you. you want to be happy, like the sun is every day. you exhale shakily as you push on the pull door. strike one. you correct yourself, hearing the bell chime as you walk inside. you’ve never cared about what people think of you because they have no idea what it’s like, yet you feel small under the eyes of everyone in the shop.

you walk up to the register, ordering your usual. or what you think was your usual. it’s been a few weeks since you’ve come here. the cashier tries to make small talk, and as appreciative as you are for it, you answer with one word responses or shaking your head. you mishear one of her questions, answering with a yes instead of if you want your receipt printed or thrown away. strike two. you haven’t been a people person in some years now. you pay with the $10 bill you found in a drawer, taking a seat in a booth in the corner farthest from anyone and everyone.

the smell of the coffee and the conversations of the people around you make you feel more anxious than it used to. maybe you should start going outside more. you space out, staring at the empty seat in front of you as your mind wanders. how long has it been since you’ve talked to any of your friends? are they worried about you? or are they used to this behavior already? you are shaken out of your thoughts when your name is called.

you hesitantly get up from your seat, walking to grab your drink and sit back down. upon grabbing it, you realize it’s hot. you remember that you get cold drinks in the morning. oh well. what’s so bad about change? you swiftly turn around, only to knock into the broad chest of a man you have never seen in your life, your drink flying to the ground.

he backs up quickly, eyebrows raised in shock and concern. oh. oh wow. he’s gorgeous. suddenly you think you should’ve paid more attention to your appearance while getting ready this morning. “i’m so sorry,” he says, reaching behind your figure to grab napkins. it snaps you out of your trance, and you’re aware of the stupid expression on your face. were you staring?

you turn around, also grabbing a few napkins before kneeling down beside him. “it’s not your fault,” you say quietly, focused on cleaning the mess on the floor. “i wasn’t watching where i was going.”

he picks up the last piece of ice, dumping it into the now empty cup as he looks at you with all of his glory. “can i buy you another one? it’s only fair.”

any other day you would’ve denied. you would’ve taken this as a sign that maybe today just isn’t your day. but with a gorgeous man right in front of your eyes, you think that today is a day for change and the only way to go is up. you nod, unable to find the word ‘yes’ in your vocabulary. strange, considering how it was the only thing you could say ten minutes ago. he helps you up, asking you what you ordered. you consider telling him a cold drink, but stick to the hot one you just spilled all over the shop’s floor.

he pays, and leads you to the booth you were just in. he sits across from you and looks away, giving you a few seconds to really look at him. he’s muscular. looks like he takes good care of himself. if you were yourself from two years ago, you might’ve tried hitting on him, but too much has happened for you to be that person again in your lifetime. 

“i’m sorry again, for making you spill your drink,” he says, and you can hear how sincere he is in his voice. a well communicated man, too. what a catch. he looks back over to you, holding eye contact. “what’s your name?” it takes you a second to process what he’s asked, but you tell him as soon as you do. it must’ve come out faster than you realized, because he chuckles softly at you before responding. “i’m iwaizumi. it’s nice to meet you, even in.. this circumstance.” he says, getting quieter towards the end. you feel yourself crack a smile for the first time in ages. “it’s nice to meet you, too,” you say back, embracing the no-teeth smile on your face. 

“how’s your morning been?” he asks, his voice smooth sounding. you realize he’s making small talk, just as the cashier with you not even an hour ago. however, this time, you think that you do not mind it as much, since he’s looking at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on and asking as if it really matters to him.

you run your morning back at his question, and you come to a conclusion that had he not bumped into you and spill your coffee on the floor, you would be back to that same slump you’ve been in and out of for as long as you can remember. you look away, embarrassed as you answer him. “i don’t think you would believe me if i said this is the best morning i’ve had in weeks.”

he raises his eyebrows again, smiling at your words. the view is better than any ocean, any mountain, any sky could ever have. “that makes me feel less terrible about running into you, then.” you open your mouth to speak again, finding it easier and easier to talk to him, even with the minimal amount of conversation you’ve had.

just as your voice comes out, his name is called. he turns his head to the counter, walking quickly there and back to slide your drink over to you. you mumble a thank you, taking a sip of the drink. it’s good, to your surprise.

you talk with him for a few more minutes, paying more attention to his voice than your now lukewarm drink in front of you. mid sentence, his phone buzzes, and he checks the screen. you see his face fall slightly, opening something on the device. “i have to go, but i’d love to hang out with you again.” he tells you, sliding his phone over to you. you look down at the screen, your eyes noticing it as a contact. you freeze for a minute, then put your number in with your name at the top. you slide his phone back over, a content look on your face. “just send me a text. i’m free whenever.”

he smiles, raising from his seat. “i’ll see you later then.” you watch as he waves goodbye, walking out of the shop. you exhale, feeling fresh, like the way you want to feel when you decide to clean up around your apartment. you feel normal. you feel like maybe, just maybe, that single interaction has prevented you from continuing to dig straight down. your phone buzzes, and you see an unsaved number:

tomorrow at 3?

this is iwaizumi btw

you feel that stupid smile on your face again. the one you used to have while talking to your friends in high school. a happy smile. 

sounds perfect

see you tomorrow

you shut off your phone after saving his contact, finishing your (now cold) drink. today is a good day to go grocery shopping. you get up from your spot, leaving the shop, walking to the store a few streets away. you always thought that there was never a point in change. that a routine would help you get better, and that sticking to it would get you to forget about the feelings that cloud your mind.

after today, you decide that breaking that routine and spilling your coffee was the best thing to ever happen to you. what’s so bad about change when it gets you to meet a new potential friend, and go to the store, and get a new drink that you now deem as your favorite? what’s so bad about change when it helps you feel like a normal person, when you’re anything but?

--

a/n: this is extremely self indulgent i'm so sorry and i'm embarrassed that this is my tumblr debut but i hope you enjoy ☺️ this is for all my iwaizumi loving friends in a mental slump rn

[goldenroseeon]

The first arc of TTSBC by @amethystfairy1 coming to a close with Bedrock. Unfortunately, because art block is killing me, I can't draw anything at the moment for it, so instead, take my TTSBC OC's dealing with the situation. Meet Plethora, Lullaby, Labyrinth, and Petrichor.

She should've been at the Labs. She had to be at the Labs. Doc called all medical personnel, including witches, to help with injuries from the rifts closing.

That included her. So why is she still in her shaking home?

She ran her fingers through Neap's hair, softly shushing their cries.

"You're okay, Flora. It's going to be okay." The home shook again, and the materials that Neap so graciously sorted for her fell to the ground. They whimpered.

There was a rattling at their door, and there she was, Lullaby, her sister.

"Plethora." She greeted, her voice out of breath and barely level. "Your house isn't stable. It's so close to the overcity, it's going to collapse."

"Just shut up for a moment!" She felt the little Allay mutant tense in her grasp. "I'm sorry."

They didn't say a word.

"Plethora, now is not the time to get emotional, you need to get the labs, now!" Her eyes were glassy, though it was hard to tell when the sclera was pitch black.

"I-I will! Just..." She stroked Neap's head.

Lullaby's eyes flickered between Neap, her little niece, and Plethora, her beloved sister. She did the same for her during the Anarchy. She sighed.

Lullaby wiped her hands, still marred with skulk, onto her clothes. It didn't do much to run off.

"Neap." Her voice was gentle, she recognized it from her childhood. "Hey, little star, it's me."

Slowly, Neap opened their eyes. "Ms. Lullaby."

A soft smile was on her face, but it felt like a crack. It wasn't real, Neap could probably tell, but she's trying to be calm as the home shakes again. "I told you that formalities aren't necessary, starlight. Could you be really brave for me?"

"Lullaby-"

"She's not a child anymore." Her voice was biting, but still affectionate. "You need to get to the Labs. So do I. Neap needs to get to the lower layers."

"But-"

"They're not going to be safe up here, Plethora! Not the Deep Dark, it's too dangerous, but I know a place where they can go, safer and lower." They turned to face the little Allay mutant, covering their ears when Lullaby yelled.

"I'm sorry, little skydrop." Slowly, Neap opened their eyes again. "Where's your cane?"

Lullaby didn't wait for an answer before grabbing their cane, bag, and scarf. They quietly thanked her. She gave them a scrap of paper.

"Go to this address, help anyone on your way if you can. I'm going to grab you some food and supplies to keep in your bag." She gave her a soft laugh. "You get to be just like my sister."

Neap nodded shakily. "Okay, okay." They looked to Plethora, rubbing their hands against hers. "Are you going to be safe?"

"I'll try, kiddo."

Neap worried their lip, teeth sinking into their glossy skin and making tiny crystals at their mouth. They blink, a few tears escaping. They take their scarf and wrap it around her neck.

"I want that scarf back, try not to bleed on it too much."

"Flora, I know how much this scarf means to you-"

"Then, you better give it back to me, later."

They were silent for a moment before the walls shook again and the lights flickered.

"Okay. I'll bring it back."

"Good."

There was a yelling outside the door; it seems Lullaby didn't close the door behind her.

"Plethora! We can't fly!" She knew that voice.

They all jumped out the door, using either glamour or wings to stop them before the ground.

"Labyrinth?" Even her sister, cool-headed, seemed shocked.

"I... I...!" Her little sister broke down into tears.

"Labyrinth, Neap's going further down, go with them. When we can, we'll call and reconvene. I'll send Petrichor your way when she makes her way down-"

"Petrichor can't come!"

"...What?" She must be mishearing her.

"She, she...! S-she said she'd meet me when I came down, that she already did, but when I got there, she wasn't t-there, and I called her, and s-she said she can't come down because she broke her leg and c-can't jump, b-but didn't want me to stay up there w-with her, and-"

"Shit!" Lullaby doesn't curse.

Plethora had to be the bigger sister here. "We'll... Figure it out. Listen, Neap can't go anywhere alone. Keep them safe when you guys go down."

"Right." Lullaby wiped away a tear on her face. "We need to help those that we can."

Plethora rubbed her hand against Neap's shoulder as they silently wept. "Neap, beat up anyone who tries to hurt you. You have a metal cane, use it well."

They nodded shakily, and Labyrinth and Neap went on their way. Plethora waved when they looked back.

When they turned the corner, she collapsed.

"We need to move." Her sister's voice was watery.

"Why didn't she tell us she broke her leg? She could've come down and I could've healed it. I... She would've been with us!"

"I... We need to get to the Labs."

"Our sister is up there! She's alone! She-"

"Plethora, we need to move, now!" She grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up.

They stood there for a while, just staring at each other. Eventually, Plethora's head slumps forward, and she cries into Lullaby.

She doesn't say a word, but strokes her hair, just like she did so many years ago.

Except that time, they were all together.

[pianokantzart]

Trying to translate a scene...

...or... at least a few simple sentences of a scene, specifically when Mario and Luigi are in the warp pipe in the Japanese dub of The Super Mario Bros Movie: X

In the English version, the exchange goes like this: Mario: "It's all going to be okay!" Luigi: "How is this going to be okay!?"

But in Japanese, it goes something like this (assuming I didn't mishear anything):

Mario: "Luigi! Shinpai sero na!" Luigi: "Niisan! Shinpai dayo!"

I know Japanese sentence structure is subject-object-verb. I know "shinpai" means worry, concern, or anxiety. "Na" at the end of a sentence can mean a lot of things: seeking confirmation, a rhetorical statement, or an imperative sentence (i.e a command). My guess is that it's seeking confirmation. Luigi ends his response with "dayo," which is often a pushier, more informal version of "desu," which I think is something of an english-equivalent of "to be"? (don't quote me on this I could be completely wrong.)

I don't know what "sero" means. If I'm hearing correct, and my source is correct, it's apparently either an auxiliary verb indicating a causative, an auxiliary verb indicating that someone has permission to do something, or an honorific for others' actions.

With all this in mind, this is my current take on the translation... Mario: "Luigi! You're worried!" Luigi: "Big Bro! This is worrying!!!" (see edit for correction!)

But there's a huge chance I got something wrong. Anyone who actually knows Japanese, please please please feel free to correct me!

EDIT: I got feedback from someone who's Japanese!

Big thanks to @hug-monster for the help! Mario doesn't say "Shinpai sero na!" he says "Shinpai suru na." Suru means "do." With this in mind, "na" in this context is an informal way of saying "not." So, put together, what Mario is actually saying is "Luigi! Don't worry!"

In this context, a more accurate translation of Luigi's response is "Bro! I am worried!"

[softness-and-shattering]

Saw/shared a post that mentioned 'youtube grammar' yesterday and I checked the tag and

Its basically the thing where people mishear words or phrases and then say it wrong. Some examples are

'manner of fact' instead of 'matter of fact', 'eck cetera' instead of 'et cetera' 'I could care less' v 'I couldn't care less'

And the poster blamed this on lowered education standards, lack of education, and basically people not learning grammar rules and not being able to break down what language a word is from to figure out pronounciation. Im not saying thats wrong, I dont know.

But I also have a running joke/recognition with friends who are bilingual or speak multiple languages, about how sounds get mixed up your head, and sometimes you'll even think of the right word but your muscle memory will write or type another. The example that started the conversation in earnest was me spelling the word 'pneumonic' instead of 'mnemonic'. (If you're going ooh this is his tumblr, hi! :D).

In a comment I was just writing, I wrote think instead of thing. I knew the word I wanted was thing, its the word I thought, its not the word I typed.

Also today I wrote 'mood' instead 'move'.

Its not a lack of education, or a misunderstanding of grammar, or mislearing a phrase. My fingers just mess it up sometimes, because somehow the link between thought and typing has to do with the sounds, not the root or the spelling or possibly even the language. Because, pneumonic.

I dont know if this holds the same with the spoken word, I dont know what those pathways are, and to begin with Im neither a linguist nor neurologist. Im just noticing patterns with myself and my friends.

If anyone does know facts or science about this, please do chime in!

[planet-crait]

Time for Crock to the Future! This is another one I’ve been curious to get to. Not as curious as Founders Day but still curious.

Wait Hazels dad only has nine Toes? Uhh come again Cosmo? What kind of toe incident gets you chainsaws? But ohhh nice Hazels dad is getting an award! I wonder if we’ll really get into the work exactly he does.

You know persistence is something good when you work in a field involving the supernatural. I do love that he refused to let doubt get him down and make him give up. AJ founded that when he was ten?? When in the show? Cuz they spent the entire time as ten? It’s kind of cute he looks up to AJ so much. I wonder how old he is compared to AJ?

One Hazel your outfit is absolutely adorable you rock pink I love it. Ohhh I see what the show did there. Fourth wall breaks can be done well take note poorly done shows with fourth wall breaks! But wait. How does a paranormal detector…work if they’re trying to prove they even exist? And why keep the paranormal out wouldn’t you want them to reveal themselves? Also is that a Mark reference?

Once again why does Hazels dad mention magic but also doubt the existence of fairy godparents??? How does a paranormal believer draw the line at magic? It doesn’t make sense.

Hazel? Really? You just ran in. Oh wow AJ comes in early lolz. The signs in the show continue to send me every time I notice them like this one with AJ.

Just brilliant hilarious.

They’re really going to steal a small child’s bag? Like is that really legal? And AJ is just chill with this? I have major questions. Why would they do that to an employees child like this feels so beyond sus to me. Are we supposed to distrust the institute? But Hazels dad works there? I just don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about this.

I appreciate Hazel being so concerned with making sure her dad has an amazing night but uh your dad’s boss ran off with your purse in a somewhat probably illegal manner so maybe bring that up? Especially since your godparents are on there??

VIVA LA PLUTO I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL.

Wait…am I agreeing with Crocker? Shit. Serious question though why does AJ employ Crocker if he tortured him as his friends as kids? Or does he just. Not care cuz Crocker gave him A’s? I mean it tracks I guess.

I love how he declares his full name seemingly only for the audience he doesn’t know is their and Hazel calls him out. Idk sometimes fourth wall breaks can be funny.

Crocker…I doubt anyone listens to you I’m pretty sure you built that booth yourself. Hazel. Are you really wanting to ask the man clearly obsessed with fairies for help finding said fairies? Is this really a smart life choice here?

Oh he’s a janitor. That makes more sense. Okay does AJ actually have some hair now or??? Wait Fairy atomizer 3000? But Hazels dad doesn’t think Fairy’s could possibly exist so why does THAT exist besides raising the stakes? Why…does AJ think fairies are dangerous? Legit why? I saw and AU that’s interesting wherein AJ does think they’re dangerous and I thought it was a neat concept but I didn’t realize it had roots in the show itself. I’m assuming he must because why else would you build a machine to destroy something you know nothing about? But why would he think they’re dangerous? I have so many questions I doubt will be answered.

Guys maybe stop talking in front of the humans wanting to deatomize you? I love how Cosmo mishears words though I just. I feel that in my soul as someone who also regularly mishears words and has to ask people to repeat themselves because brain short circuited idk it makes me feel seen.

Why are you bragging about handing out F’s? Like that’s not a good teacher trait. Crocker…uh…you’re obsessed that’s true. Even if you weren’t obsessed the handing out F’s thing would also likely turn people away from giving you a teaching position.

AJ…I know it’s good for Cosmo and Wanda the leather is distracting you but also PRIORITIES. Also how did Hazel get a real leather bag???? Those things are pricey? Sturdy for sure. Will last forever yeah but she’s so young!

They’re really going to leave the suspected fairies unsupervised? Uhhh okay off you go. WOW Crocker it took you this long to figure that out? You’ve gotten slow. Smart kiddo grab what you know is the fairies sacrifice the bag.

HAZEL FRIES REALLY? In such a fancy bag? Oh wow another Timmy reference. No names just their last godkid but yeah Timmy continues to kind of haunt the narrative I’m digging it. I just realized though Cosmo and Wanda didn’t have a godkid between Crocker and Timmy which is…a long time to not have a godkid when apparently fairy world is also short on godparents? I know this is just canon from the Og show but it sure is a strange choice from the original writers.

Cosmo maybe uh. Don’t reveal your weakness out loud. Or joke about a giant net yep okay there it is. Yep. How does Crocker have a giant net? Why does no one question its existence?

Oh Hazels dad is giving his speech over Crocker getting the equipment. Oh and he’s looking at Cosmo and Wanda. He knows. Without a doubt Hazel has fairies. Will this be an issue? Probably not. It should because previously someone finding out about a kids fairies got the fairies taken away and memories erased.

Cosmo. Read the room. Oh Timmy again. Oh only his last name getting dropped. I wonder how long they’ll avoid saying his first name. I am curious if Hazel will ever met him in later seasons. Hazel how did you forget about that they just told you their magic is useless.

Wait Crocker isn’t a Ghost why would it capture him??? I don’t understand how that will work?

Hazel uh that’s not a great line lolz.

How did the aliens sneak in and not get caught??????? Uh how? If the scanner can scan fairies they’ve never seen why would it miss aliens we know exist? And does no one notice their skin is green?

Lolz uh AJ why keep Crocker if he keeps interrupting the ceremony? Also Crocker literally assaulted AJ like That should also be a problem. Like good on him for having a backup but still. Cute Hazel is so proud of her dad.

Overall this was a fine episode. I wonder if Crocker will reappear and go after Hazel? I also have some questions on the production end. I know their was previous ideas to have Timmy be the one to have founded the institute but that was scrapped and I’m curious as to why and what this means for Timmy’s potential future within the show. Was this a network forced change or did the writers decide they didn’t want to reveal Timmy too soon.

I’m personally torn on this. On the one hand the original show never got a proper ending which sucks for fans of the original but this show deserves to be its own thing and not be just about Timmy again (heavens know that’s one of the few things I really dislike about Rebels is it repeatedly being used to further TCW characters and arcs at the sheer detriment of the characters if the new show) but also having Timmy’s fate so up in the air especially when it’s clear he was special to Cosmo and Wanda and more so then Hazel is so far and probably honestly ever will be. Like very very early on Cosmo and Wanda were telling Timmy they loved him and Hazel hasn’t gotten that. It raises questions about if something happened that has them putting up walls to not get hurt again or if it’s just Timmy was beyond special to them and they don’t normally get so close to their godkids.

I have a feeling that part won’t ever be explored in the show but it would be cool and I would love to see some resolution for Timmy in something not even necessarily in this show just…something. Though admittedly I have a feeling he will eventually show up based on original ideas for this episode and the way he haunts the narrative. That is if we get a season 2 which so far I really hope we do get a season 2. Onto the next one!