#i dont even really know how to catalogue this movie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

noxiatoxia · 2 years ago

Note

hello noxia toxia its me again

so i was thinking about hikakao cuddling (as i always am, due to the fact i am insane) and i really like the idea of them snuggling post canon, like as adults

like maybe theyre home from college for a break and they dont see each other very often bc theyre busy and go to different colleges so they missed each other a lot. i imagine they call and catch up super often when school is in, maybe even just silently do schoolwork together on call so they can have company, but it just isnt the same sometimes yk

so when they see each other again theyre really clingy with each other, and even though they think its probably a little silly to be cuddling again after everything, theyre too exited about being together again to care. so they snuggle in bed and watch movies or a show or something, talking and catching up, real cozy...and then they fall asleep like that snuggled up together (actually writing a fic similar to this concept atm lol)

or maybe well after college, one of them (either of them could be either role but im gonna say hikaru for this so itll be easier to write) gets some sad news or something bad, nothing super tragic just something that makes him not want to be alone. so he calls kaoru like 'kaofruuuuruuuuuu can u come over i want company pls:(' and of course kaorus there within minutes. seconds even. if there was traffic hed literally just take his private helicopter and fly over there instead even if its like less than a mile away like the rich dude he is. anyway hes there and he hugs hikaru and keeps him company, letting him vent and cry on his shoulder and all that. hikaru gets really tired from all the emotion, and hes snuggled really close to kaoru for comfort, so he just falls asleep there. and kaoru doesnt want to disturb him, so he keeps holding him and just sleeps kinda awkwardly and in his clothes so he wont wake hikaru. and even long after he wakes up the next morning he lets him sleep for however long he needs to just because he knows he needs it. im so sane and normal about them i am i am (foams at the mouth)

im so sorry this is so long i was just rambling, i literally have so many of these

NO ANON I LOVE YOUR RAMBLES PLEEEEEASE ALWAYS SEND THEM TO ME PLEASE I HUNGER FOR HIKAKAO FOREVER AND ALWAYS

anyways i LOVE THISSSSS I need to write my own hikakao college au <- so much angst potential. The idea of hikaru and kaoru going to different colleges, while not super realistic (?) in my head, is SO cute when they finally reunite... I can see though them often having to split up bc work is so busy in their adult life, and getting thru their catalogue would take ages if they worked side-by-side so to get thru it faster and more efficiently, they have to work by themselves... so Hikaru may be out in Spain and Kaoru is in America.

Which makes, like you said, their reunions so heartfelt...

I mean, same guys who do this. Of COURSE they're gonna be dramatic after a WEEK of not seeing each other.

After a week of not seeing each other (because lets be real, they would be meeting EVERY weekened no matter where or what. Kaoru is in England? Hikaru is in Australia? Doesnt matter! One of them is flying over on a private jet gdi) they would smother each other in hugs and maybe even a kiss on the cheek if im bold to say and they'd just... cuddle. Talk and goof around like they were in middle school again, bc really, they're immature brats at heart.

(Btw?? I'd LOVE to read your fic!!!! I'm sure it'd be so cute!!)

If something happened while they were separated you bet your ass the other would be there in a heartbeat. Doesn't matter if Kaoru is in the middle of a Super Important Business meeting in America, he'll fly his ass home to Japan later that night to comfort Hikaru.

Your prompt also reminded me of a similar idea i had, about how they deal with each other getting nightmares... tbh I don't think Hikaru dreams often; Kaoru is the one who dreams almost every night (and talks in his sleep). And I think Kaoru used to get nightmares a lot as a kid, to which Hikaru would feverishly calm him down (he had a nightmare once about that fucked up scene in Cinderella 3 with the corrupted pumpkin carriage and the humanized Lucifer... iykyk)

But as they got older, Kaoru never really... stopped getting nightmares? He just got better at hiding them. In highschool, he'd wake up in cold sweats sometimes from really vivid dreams. No longer are they childish fears about a scene in a movie or being chased by a monster. His dreams focus on him losing his friends, his brother; people in his life leaving him. Things he worries about in his waking life; things he believes are going to happen one day. Except, in his nightmares, they happen in the worst ways possible.

He doesn't tell Hikaru about it, usually. Not because he thinks Hikaru would make fun of him or something, but because he doesn't want Hikaru to worry. He only wants Hikaru to be happy. He wants Hikaru to be free and live his full potential - if Kaoru told him he had nightmares about Hikaru leaving him, what would that make Hikaru do? Stick even closer by him. And that's the exact opposite of what Kaoru wants. So, he says nothing, pretends nothing happened as he uneasily falls back asleep, hoping he'll forget what he dreamed about...

And though he doesn't tell Hikaru, Hikaru sort of knows. Not the full extent of course, but... Kaoru can get pretty loud in his sleep. He doesn't toss and turn much (that's Hikaru's thing) but he speaks, and it can be loud and frequent. Usually, it's funny things Hikaru will tease him about if he happens to overhear it; nonsensical silly shit like "Please don't eat us, Usa-chan!" murmured sleepily and Hikaru will have to hold back a giggle to not wake him up. But then sometimes it's not so funny. They're very clear, scared pleas. In his asleep state, they're barely intelligible, too. Just whispers of "Please don't go" "I'm sorry" and "I don't want to be alone". Sometimes he sounds like he's going to cry. Sometimes he looks like he's going to cry. And that's what really scares Hikaru the most. He doesn't say anything, either - he doesn't know how to - but he always holds Kaoru in his arms close to his chest when he hears him make these noises, and soon enough, Kaoru will go quiet and resume a relatively peaceful sleep.

They'll talk about it someday... just not right now.

...I'm totally normal about them too, anon. I promise. I promise.

#ALWAYS. send me asks like this please its THRILLING #I LOVE YOU ANON #hikakao #ohshc #;noxiatalks2ya

5 notes · View notes

buckyskorpion · 5 years ago

Text

11 hours - part two

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: thank you guys so much for the incredible response i got to part one!! it made me so happy so thank you. let me know wha yall think of this bit, we’ve got some plot going on which i always enjoy. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist

part one

You don’t hear from Bucky for a while after the party. It’s disappointing - you’re self-aware enough to admit that. But you also aren’t stupid enough to expect anything else. Bucky asked you to that party as a favour, you got a one-night-only special being in his life and you’re not expecting anything else.

You had hoped it wouldn’t have impacted your nightly rendezvous, but those had stopped too. You suppose Bucky decided not to trust you after all.

Almost three weeks later and you’re at work, thoughts of Bucky barely a buzz in the back of your head compared to the job at hand. You’ve always been able to let your work consume you, and it pays off in your line of business. Being a private investigator requires attention to detail, lateral thinking, and a questionable moral compass. Your patented paranoia doesn’t hurt either. Your dad tells you every time you visit that he wishes you’d get into something more stable, something less dirty, but you’re not really good at anything else. Considering the majority of your clients are partners trying to figure out if their significant other is cheating, it also pays well for quite minimal effort.

Quick rule of thumb for aspiring PI’s: they’re almost always cheating.

Today is one of those clients. You’ve tailed the guy in question to a tattoo shop in Red Hook, which is already a red flag. He’s an investment banker and buys Louis Vuitton cufflinks for his ugly work suits. He stands out like a sore thumb in this grungy neighbourhood. You snap a few photos of him outside the store, very obviously checking left and right for a tail before entering the place. People suck at being subtle, you’ve come to realise over the years. And at being observant, because all you’ve bothered to do to hide is sit at the cafe across the road and pretend to be taking photos of the latte art on your coffee.

Entering the tattoo parlour is a no-go, even if your grunge aesthetic would fit in with the clientele more than your straight-laced prey. There are other ways, though. You leave some bills on the table and cross the street into the alley beside the tattoo shop, wrinkling your nose at the dumpster smell. There’s a fire escape which you can reach if you stand on the lid of the offensive dumpster in question, leading to a window you hope will get you some insight into what Mike Shorditch of suspected-cheating fame is up to. Maybe he has a tattooed, lip-ringed young girlfriend he meets here? Or a heavy-set biker boyfriend? Or he just wants a tattoo and his wife is as paranoid as you are.

Squeezed uncomfortably between the bars of the fire-escape, you manage to aim your camera lens at the window and zoom in - jackpot. It’s a small window near the ceiling of the high-roofed shop, letting in minimal light to ruin the dark aesthetic of the place, allowing you a somewhat clear view of the shop inside. It’s really nice, you notice, and they have good taste in music. Slowly Slowly bleeds minimally through the glass and you try focus your lens on the faces inside, catching Mike among them like a unicorn in a goth reunion. He’s talking to someone, waving his hands around dramatically while the guy he talks to towers over him, arms folded over a ginormous chest.

You know that face, you realise as you aim your lens a little higher. The shock burns, almost makes you drop your camera and fall off the fire escape you’re precariously lying on. It’s Steve, blonde head unmistakeable as he glares at your target and dismisses whatever Mike says to him with an eyeroll. Without questioning it, you snap a few photos of Steve’s imposing figure - so at odds with the friendly, downright cuddly man you met at the party a few weeks ago. Just when you thought you’d gotten rid of thoughts about that night, they show up at your work. How is this possible?

None of this sits right with you. This strange coincidence, the weird behaviour at the party towards Bucky and his friends, Bucky’s general evasiveness and the feeling you get of being watched just being around him. Nothing is adding up and you’ve never been the kind of person to leave well enough alone. You snap photos of the shop, as much as you can - Steve’s tattoo sleeve that had been hidden under a jumper at the party, the stencils lining the walls, the locks on the front door, the counter where a scrawny kid in glasses bends over what looks like genuine high-school homework and ignores the adults in the shop. There are too many variables - you have to start making sense of one of them.

The easiest thread to pull is Mike, and he’s the one you’re being paid to solve, so it makes sense to start there. Clearly it isn’t cheating his wife should be worried about, but the meeting he’s having with Steve and the others doesn’t look like a friendly catch up with friends either. His personal cybersecurity is poor enough you figure you’ll be able to solve that particular mystery easy enough.

Bucky and his friends, however? That’s going to take a bit more digging.

***

According to Mike Shoreditch’s bank records, he owes somebody a lot of money. You get this from an account his wife doesn’t even know he has, believing all their money goes into a shared account with a completely different bank. Mike has a lot of secrets but cheating isn’t one of them - the print outs of his secret bank account statements and the pictures of him at Steve’s tattoo parlour would be enough for you to close the case and get your money. But you don’t. Not just yet. You have your own itch to scratch, now.

You’ve taken to watching the tattoo shop’s comings and goings, snapping pictures here and there. Steve comes in at ten in the morning, ready to open the shop up by lunchtime for customers and doesn’t close it until midnight. His customers are the usual sort you’d imagine at a rough tattoo shop in Red Hook - heavy set guys with full sleeves and chest pieces, grungy couples who probably live upstate but are rebelling against their trust-fund parents, random walk-ins who’s nerves you can sense from across the street at what’s become your usual table. There are a few, though, who stand out. Leather jackets and motorbikes they park in the alley beside the shop, using the back entrance you snap a shot of one night once they all went home.

You’re not jumping to conclusions just yet, you’ve learnt the hard way from doing that, but you’re also not stupid. Whatever Steve is into, whatever Bucky is by association a part of, there are some shady looking people involved as well.

It’s one of those days where you’re watching the shop from the cafe, camera left on the table in favour of devouring an almond croissant and cataloguing the people you’ve now dubbed regulars at Steve’s as they enter the shop. You should probably be doing your actual job but you can’t bring yourself to, too caught up in the shady business across the street from you. Absorbed, in fact, so you practically jump out of your skin as your phone rings and you send it flying to the pavement with an errant elbow.

You pick up without checking the ID, and boy was that a mistake. Heart pounding painfully in your chest, you answer, “Hi, hello, hi, this is (Y/n) speaking,” all in a rush.

A familiar, honey-warm laugh rumbles down the phone to you and your previously racing heart all but stops beating. Bucky says, “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Does he know? Had Steve caught you spying and called Bucky asking why the random girl he brought to a party that one time was stalking him? You glance around the street, half expecting Bucky to be standing behind you and catching you red-handed. He’s not, of course he’s not, you’re just losing your mind a little bit.

“No, no, sorry,” you say, running a shaky hand through your hair. “I’m at work. What’s up?”

“I won’t keep you long,” Bucky says, sounding amused, and you hate how the rough catch of his voice through the phone all but erases the suspicions you have for him, warning you to stay away. You had missed him, is all. He says, as if plucking the thought from your brain, “I was missing you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, glad he can’t see the grin you send to the table. “That why you disappeared after the party?”

“Let me explain over drinks?” Bucky asks, dodging your jab with ease. No, no, no, don’t be stupid, he’s bad news and you’ve got the proof, don’t-

“You’re paying,” you say instead, silencing the smart side of your brain.

“Always do,” he says, which is blatantly not true but whatever, “Nine at Joey’s?”

“See you there,” you say, and hang up before you can do anything else stupid.

You bury your hands in your hair, leaning your elbows on the table and letting out a frustrated sound probably inappropriate for a public place. How are you going to go meet Bucky and pretend you aren’t, essentially, investigating his best friend? Maybe you don’t. Maybe you use this to get more answers, full-stop some of the question marks that have been playing havoc with your head all week.

And sex. You’re not going to pretend you won’t be ending up in Bucky’s bed again, shady secrets be damned.

***

Joey’s is a divey, underground bar you absolutely adore, and you’ve met Bucky here multiple times. He introduced you to the place, actually, a week or so into meeting up him. He’d laughed at how excited you were over the movie posters they used as decor behind the booths, the bartender who squeezed fresh apple juice into your shot of Jameson, the dirty bass-heavy music you eventually convinced him to dance with you to. Bucky is clearly trying to win you over by meeting you here, and you can’t say it’s not working. Just a little bit. You’ll still make him work for it.

Bucky’s got a booth at the back when you arrive, two whiskey apple’s already waiting on the table as he stands up to greet you. He pulls you into a hug, not letting you set the tone at all, but you can’t find it in you to mind as you’re crushed into his chest and he rests his stubbly chin atop your head. He smells nice, reminding you of spiced rum or something else warm and comforting, and his hands feel real nice as they dip under your top to press against your bare skin. Had you really missed him this much? You squeeze him tightly, ignoring the thump of your heart as he starts rubbing circles into your back, and you stand there in his arms for far too long to be appropriate.

Pulling away, though, feels like you’ve lost something.

Across the booth from you, now, Bucky slides a drink towards you with his usual cheeky grin. You roll your eyes at him, popping the straw in your mouth and looking out at the bar so you can pretend not to pay attention to him. He bumps your foot under the table but you ignore him, hiding your smirk in the rim of your glass.

“Doll,” he says, exasperated, and reaches across the booth to place his giant hand on the arm you have resting on the table. You look at him then, scrunching your nose up at the pet name which makes him smile. His eyes crinkle up at the sides, all soft and blurry blue, and you feel yourself forgetting why you’re supposed to be mad at him in the first place.

“What,” you say, mimicking his tone just to watch his jaw clench. His frustration is hot, what of it? You love winding him up like this.

“Brat,” he retorts, and oh, that makes you feel something you probably shouldn’t, all low and coiled hot in your belly. “Did you think I was avoiding you?”

“You were avoiding me,” you correct, raising your eyebrows at him. He hasn’t let go of your arm, now taking to rubbing his thumb back and forth across the leather of your jacket. You refuse to let it melt you.

“I was away,” he says, eyes sparkling. He’s practically laughing at you, which is- rude. You huff, barely believing him, and he says, “I was! Did you want me to tell you I was going or something?”

“No,” you say, rolling your eyes at him. You sigh - he’s right, what did you expect? Nothing, and yet you were put out anyway, but that’s a problem you’ve got to deal with on your own. Bucky doesn’t owe you anything and he knows it. You relax, finally, putting your drink down to cover Bucky’s hand with your own. You smile, say, “I’m just messing with you, Bucky.”

“Sure you are,” he says easily, but you know he doesn’t believe you. It’s dropped, then, forgotten as you sit there staring at each other in the dim light of the bar. You really had missed him, even if you still barely knew him. His stubbly jaw, the close-cropped sides of the new haircut he’d gotten since you’d last seen him, the glint of his dog togs against tanned skin disappearing under his t-shirt. The swirl of his chest piece peeking out from the neckline, and you can fill in the blanks because you’ve seen what’s under that t-shirt. You’ve traced your tongue over it, as well as every other inch of him you’re trying to memorise in case another month passed before you saw him again. If you ever saw him at all.

“What?” you ask when you realise he’s starting to smile at you, holding back a laugh. He shakes his head, looking down to pick up his drink and take a sip. You lean back, retracting yourself from his grip and folding your arms across your chest - he’s making fun of you, you know it, but you don’t know why. He does laugh then, also leaning back in his seat and regarding you with that head tilt that infuriates you.

“Nothing,” he laughs, eyes saying the opposite. “It’s just- it’s nice to see you.”

“You going soft on me, tough guy?” you tease, but he sobers at your words, the smile dying on his pillow-plump lips. He stares you down, that deep thing that reminds you how easy it is to get lost in him (if you aren’t already).

“Maybe I am,” he says, and that surprises you. You had been joking, but the heady way he’s looking at you turns it serious. “Would that bother you?”

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to say the right thing. You don’t even know if that’s a good response or not, but you’ve done it now and Bucky nods, downs his drink, all without ever breaking eye contact with you. You get the distinct feeling you’ve just agreed to something you don’t entirely understand, entangling yourself further into Bucky without even trying to. Given what you’d been uncovering about his friends the past week, you should know better. You should leave.

But you don’t. You lean across the booth, coming to him this time, and peel his hand off his glass to entwine your fingers with his. The cool metal of his signet rings offsets the warmth of his palm against yours, and the way he grips your fingers tightly signs the deal. Bucky is too enticing to stay away from, and you are too tired of trying to.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” you ask, but it’s not really a question. You watch his eyes dart across your face, tongue flicking out over his lips, stalling for time. You wonder what he’ll say. My friends run dodgy business deals out of a tattoo parlour? I’m involved in that, too? I’m dangerous, I’m a liar, you should stay away?

“I’m a mechanic,” he says. You try not to show your disappointment, but still, this is information you didn’t have before and you’re greedy for anything. “I have my own shop in Queens. Natasha helps me out, helps me run it. I’ve been obsessed with cars and bikes and shit since I was five.”

You smile at that, imaging little Bucky running around a car yard trying to convince his dad, or whoever, to teach him how to drive even if he couldn’t reach the pedals yet. You imagine him now, the hand you’re holding all greased up and elbow deep in a car’s guts, maybe with his shirt off and sweat dripping down his back. You’ve got to see that one day before you die, you decide right then. That’s too hot to just stay in your brain.

“Your turn,” he says, shit-eating smirk in place like he can read your mind. You blush, despite yourself, and scramble for something to say that’s not I’ve been investigating your friends all week and it’s not looking too good for them.

“My dad,” you blurt out, and Bucky give you a funny look like he thinks that’s your fact - you have a dad, isn’t that something. You curse yourself for starting this, you could’ve gone with anything and you said ‘my dad’? But you’re here now, so, “He raised me on his own, like, I don’t know my mum at all, but he always said he wanted me to have something of her so he taught me Russian. She taught him, apparently, and he taught her English. Now it’s like our secret language.”

“Russian, hey?” Bucky asks, and he seems far too surprised for the anecdote you’ve just given but you suppose it is the first actually personal thing you’ve told him. He doesn’t seem off-put by it, though, like you have expected him to be because you don’t do personal. In fact he just leans closer, almost unconsciously, baiting you to tell him more.

“Yeah,” you say, compelled to keep going. “We’d leave each other notes around the house in ‘code’, y’know, but it was just in Cyrillic. Thought it was so cool.”

“It is cool,” Bucky says, smirking at you again, “You’re cool.”

“Fuck you,” you laugh, kicking his ankle under the table but immeasurably grateful for the tone change. You don’t know why you’ve just told him that. You don’t know if you’ve ever told anyone that - Russian isn’t exactly a handy language to know. You feel drunker than you should be after a tiny bit of whiskey, high on the rush of unleashing a secret. Drunk enough that Bucky unlatching his fingers from yours to grip your wrist tight, a bit bruising, tugging you close, makes you flush from your scalp to your toes.

Bucky looks at you, dark and heavy, and asks, “Want to?”

You nod, throat suddenly very dry, and Bucky tugs you out of the booth without another word. Usually you wait a bit longer before getting on Bucky’s bike, have a few more drinks, maybe dance a bit if you can coax Bucky into it. Not tonight. You’re both on the same page - it’s been too long and you need his mouth on you about five days ago.

He pushes you into the apartment by the shoulders, rough enough you stumble but you’re quickly righted as he strides through the door after you and grabs you by the hips. Bucky crushes his mouth to yours, swallowing your needy whine with soft lips and velvet tongue as you fist his t-shirt and drag you both backwards, going and going until your back hits a wall. His palm slams into the drywall by your head but you don’t flinch, only groan as he smudges his spit-slick mouth across your jaw and down your neck. Bucky bites down, sharp teeth on soft skin, and you rake your nails down his stomach as payback for the mark you’ll have later.

“Off,” Bucky grumbles as he shoves at your jacket, getting it stuck at your elbows and trapping your arms by your sides. He seems to like like this, eyes flashing something dangerous in the dark of his hallway. You hold his eyes, heart thrumming something wild in your throat at being caught, pinned, vulnerable. With Bucky, though, you like that.

You want to reach for him but you can’t, so you wait for him to come to you. Kissing you breathless, hand fisted in your hair, other undoing the front of your jeans. God, you wanna touch him so bad but Bucky has you in his grip, yanking your head back to kiss that same bruised spot. He sucks another under your chin as you cry out, pinpricks of pain-turned-pleasure bursting at the base of your scalp.

He gets his hand in your jeans, in your panties, runs two fingers down your cunt so easy with how wet you are already before rubbing bruising, slow circles on your clit. Your whole body jerks against Bucky’s hold on you, his thighs bracketing your body into the wall and his hand still fisted in your hair. Your mouth drops open in a soundless moan and you feel, rather than hear Bucky laugh against your throat. All executive function has diverted to the radiating ache of pure pleasure from Bucky’s fingers on you.

Bucky lets go of you hair only to press his hand on your throat, cold rings digging into your burnt-up skin and pressing you back into the wall. Long fingers tilt your jaw to look at him, increased pressure warning you against looking away, but you don’t want to anyway. Bucky’s eyes are dark like a sea storm, molten blue, and he squeezes his grip just once before saying, “Still think I’ve gone soft?”

Jesus christ, but you can’t answer him like this - not with your pulse thundering against his palm and the way he picks up the pace on your clit, making your thighs shake with the effort of holding yourself up. Bucky grins, boyish and crinkly, and it’s so at odds with the way he slides his two fingers down and pushes into you, twisting to the knuckle, that you think you might be losing your mind. Unravelling, Bucky pulling at the threads, and the only thing holding you together is his hand on your throat.

“Bucky,” you say, his name a broken breath as you start to lose focus. Everything’s hazy, glassy, your toes are going numb and tingly so you know it’s coming, building tight in your stomach as he rubs his fingers back and forth inside of you. At his name Bucky makes a sound almost like a growl, pressing his body against yours and somehow further into the wall. You need that contact, the press of his muscles holding you up as it gets harder and harder to breath with the heat coiling up inside of you. He presses his forehead against yours so all you can see is blue edged out by black, claiming your every breath and moan, drawing you in deeper and deeper because you’re his, now. There’s no way back from this.

He presses his thumb to your clit, thrusts his fingers deeper into you, mouth parting with yours as you moan as if he means to swallow the sound. You’re there, you’re right there, and then he kisses you so soft you might’ve imagined it and you’re coming, your whole body clenching up and whiting out while he finger fucks you through it.

Trembling muscles come to leant against the wall, barely holding yourself up as Bucky extricates himself and allows you room to breath. He gently tugs your jacket all the way off, freeing your arms to come up sluggish and heavy around his neck, holding on. He laughs, just quietly, letting you nuzzle your way into the side of his neck and breath in that warm honey Bucky smell as you try and regain mental functions. It’s hard. You think Bucky’s just blended up your brain with a swizzle stuck and sucked it out through a straw.

“C’mon,” he says, gravel rough, and nudges his nose against the side of your head. “Not done with you yet.”

“Hmph,” you say, but let yourself be picked up under the ass and wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. You press a kiss to the skin of his neck you can reach with every second your body comes back online, digging your teeth in a little when he squeezes your ass as he walks. You’re both still fully clothes, basically, but you don’t plan to be for long. You’ve got tattoos to kiss and a dick you want anyway Bucky’ll let you. You’ve got all night, after all.

***

It’s late, you should be going, but you steal a few more minutes lying on Bucky’s chest. He’s sat up against the headboard, trying to braid little pieces of your hair with the cutest look of concentration on his face. The way he goes from dirty to dork always makes your heart do complicated things in your chest. You’re drumming your fingers on his chest, right next to his dog tags, and before you can overthink it too much you pause your drum solo to pick them up.

Bucky doesn’t pause in his hair-braiding but you can feel him watching you as you turn the worn metal over in your fingers. They’re well loved, a bit bent in places and the letters starting to rub flat but you can still read it. His birthday, March 10th, and his name. You’d never thought to read these before - they always seemed part of Bucky’s past, something you weren’t allowed into yet. But tonight has made you bold, and you run your thumb over the letters of his name so you can memorise the feel of them.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you mumble, words half said into his skin. Bucky hums but doesn’t respond, so you say, “I always knew no mother could look at their newborn child and call it Bucky.”

“Watch it,” Bucky warns, but without any real heat. You don’t ask what the tags mean, which war he fought in, when he got back. You lay them back on his skin carefully, straightening out the chain, before turning in Bucky’s arms to prop your chin on his chest piece and look at him.

“I should go,” you say, as you continue to lie there with legs tangled and Bucky’s hand now resting idle, cupping the back of your head. He bites his lip, strokes his big hand down the back of your hair and making you close your eyes for a second. You’re enjoying his touch too much, you’re getting too close for a man you don’t know. A man who you know has secrets you probably don’t want to uncover, but you can’t stop yourself.

“You could stay.” Bucky’s words hang there, suspended in the space between you. He’s never said that before. You never thought he would say that, ever. Bucky looks at you, face unreadable, and you don’t know why you feel sick to your stomach all of a sudden but you do. There are lines being crossed that you can’t backtrack from. You’re not ready to make that step yet.

“Not tonight,” you say, and it’s not a no but it’s not what Bucky wants to hear. He withdraws his hand from you, letting it drop uselessly to the bed beside him. You take that as your cue to go, rolling off the bed and dressing silently with Bucky’s eyes burning a hole in your skin.

You’re pulling away, trying desperately to regain some distance and control from his man who already has you swallowed whole, he just doesn’t know it yet. Even still, you can’t stop yourself crawling back on the bed and straddling his lap, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him. You want him to remember this - not you saying no, but the way your body will always say yes to him as he holds your hips and keeps you there, kissing you back as desperate as you feel.

But now you know you have reason to climb through the laundry room window that night and sneak away from Bucky’s apartment building, that you’re not just being paranoid because you’ve got photos to prove it. It’s that thought alone that makes it bearable to leave him, even if your heart is begging you to stay.

Part 3

#bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fic #bucky x reader fic #bucky fic #reader insert fic #pov fic #biker!bucky #biker au #biker!bucky au #avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #11 hours

805 notes · View notes

shinymooncolor · 4 years ago

Text

Sweater weather chat #9

A little Friday tribute to @lumosinlove ‘s sweater weather.

@siriuslyqueer and @wxlfstxrx thanks for helping me through a groundbreaking epiphany. <3

Sweater weather chat #9

Celeste has plans. Logan mopes. And drives a minivan. Kuny hides in a library. Nado is a star. And the wives call him Jackie. We get some lady love. Cause hockey wives are awesome. The team dads get in trouble. What did happen in Prague? Does mild vodka exist?

---

Thursday 3.42 pm

Celeste: hi ladies! So, as you know the long dreaded school talent show is looming on the horizon. I don’t know with you - but that’s a Saturday we will not get back…. Any ideas??

Anya: we send our husbands to the show. 😜 zhenya is helping my kids anyways. Not sure how that happened. But him and Jackie came to leech a free dinner and somehow ended up joining the talent show.

Linnea: that sounds like something that needs to be recorded! I’m up for a spa weekend. God knows I need it. We’re headed for Sweden next month and I need to prepare mentally for my in-laws. 🙊

Celeste: so we agree to send the boys to the show? And get on with a lovely spa weekend ourselves 😍

Allison: I’m in. I love my boys but I’ve seen them dance and heard them sing. Brady has been successfully avoiding the past three events!!! But I’m intrigued about what the hell Kuny and Jackie can help with? 😂

Anya: I don’t know and I don’t care. It’s sergei problem now. I’ve warned them to keep it kid friendly. Jackie is still a little scared of me, I think. 👻

Celeste: they are good boys but those two. I swear they’re worse than our lot. And that’s saying something. You remember Prague? 😠

Linnea: the one with the flags at worlds? What were they thinking....

Allison: oh sounds like there’s a story there! What did they get up to? 🙊

Linnea: let’s get back to that after three bottles of Chardonnay...

——

Thursday 4.08 pm

Celeste: you are going to the talent show. And take Logan with you. He’s been moping for a week. He’s such a teenager. 😂 and DONT EVEN THINK ABOUT DRINKING AGAIN. I will tell Logan about Prague. 😠

Dumo: but I have to train. And don’t tell anyone it’ll undermine our authority.

Celeste: no you don’t have to, it’s optional. Don’t even start Pascal. You’re taking your ragtag team Dads and you’re all going to sit through 3 hours of recorders and botched Disney music. And you’re going to applaud your babies. And please film whatever the terrible two get up to. I’ve seen the outfits. 😂😍😂😍

Dumo: I love you but you’re mean. Enjoy your spa day. What do I get for being good?

Celeste: a wife who won’t make you sleep in the guest room. And if you’re really good we can talk about the white one again.

Dumo: I’ll be good!!! 😇😇😇😇😇

Celeste: 😉

——

Thursday 5.00 pm

Dumo created a group chat.

Dumo added Sunny, Sergei, Brady, Kuny, Nado and LoganT

Dumo named the group chat talent show

Dumo: gentlemen I believe you’ve all had your fates sealed. We’re now sentenced to suffer through the horror of our kids’ school talent show.

LoganT: what am I doing here? I don’t have kids leave me out

Dumo: you left your disgusting workout clothes in MY basement. Without cleaning it up. You’re coming. Also Leo and Finn are both with their families. And Celeste made me take you cause apparently you’re sad and mopey. 🤓

LoganT: I’m not sad and mopey. I’m brooding and there’s a big difference. 😠

Sunny: you’re 22 and your boyfriends are out of town. Chin up buddy and enjoy a Saturday of off key singing and recorder hell. And you are moping 😆 brooding is for grown-ups…

Nado: we’d offer to take you to some strip clubs and get you laid but. Well. We don’t really frequent gay bars so.

Sergei: really? I once had to rescue u 2 from drag club 😂

Nado: it was one time and we didn’t realize until we were inside. Felt like a fucking Kingggg man they know how to party. Wanna go to a drag club baby Logan? Is fun times!

Kuny: was fun. But we promise to do show with baby Russians he he 👻👻👻👻

Nado: well i didn’t understand what i said yes to. Thought she asked if I wanted to play Pokémon. 😳

Sergei: that’s why she asked. She’s too sneaky. Not like it. What you do for show?

Nado: no idea. Your wife is making us an outfit and told us to just stand in the background 🙈

Dumo: oh I’m recording this. Anyways there’s never any parking. You’d think with the obscene fees we pay for that school they could at least organize proper parking. Let’s carpool. 😎

LoganT: why are you carpooling? You’ve got like a combined car catalogue of 25 cars.......

Brady: this is clearly Logan’s first rodeo. Okay. Sergei always brings some Russian elixir of life. So. We need you to drive. 😘

LoganT: IM NOT DRIVING A MINI VAN! IVE GOT A REP

Nado: there’s alcohol involved? I’m in!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳

Sunny: only way to get through this....😔

Dumo: you don’t have a rep. You have two boyfriends, an accent and a sweaty hat. You’re driving and I’m not going to argue. 😠

—-

Saturday 12.33 pm

Dumodad: if anyone is wondering what the terrible two are up to this fine Saturday. They’re currently in the middle of a moving rendition of Into the Unknown. Yes they’re wearing blue sequins. 🤩

*kuny and nado dressed in blue glitter sequins onesies with a bunch of kids singing into the unknown*

Prongstar: HHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA WHAT IS GOING ONNNN????

Blizzard: well. There’s a future in show biz for those two. 😂 kuznetsov and nadeau the movie.

Bradygunz: this is giving me some fresh prince vibes little rays of sunshine!!!😂😂😂😂 @talkiewalkie

Talkiewalkie: yesss!!! Hahahah 😎😎😎

——-

Saturday 1.22 pm

Sunny: I love my kids but. There’s a reason it’s not a good idea to always just tell kids they’re good at stuff.

Dumo: hahahah the one with the juggling was fun.

LoganT: why are we still here? I won’t ever get my hearing back after that bag pipe thing. 😭

Sergei: that’s why we drink. I like the politic ones like a kid could ever know so many isms

Sunny: quit hogging the flask. Gimme.

Brady: I didn’t know so many isms existed. Pretty sure some of them were just random words. 😂

——

Saturday 2.01 pm

Logantremblayzzz: guess who’s pissed at a kids talent show. Guess who’s hit on every teacher and has suspiciously disappeared and guess who’s somehow ended up in a production of you’re welcome from Moana?

Sirius: this is fun.... 1) the dads are pissed. I went to a school play with them once. Sergei brought his flask? 2) I wanna say Nado 3) Kuny?

Blizzard: ohhh I’ve got 2/3 swapped - Kuny can’t sing in English... and nado’s got the tattoos 😂

Eliascookie: I wanna know more about the sequins? 🥳

Prongstar: tell us!!!

Logantremblayzzz: 1) yes the dads. Sergei swears it’s only mild vodka. But they’re definitely not sober. 2) Kuny was missing but I found him. He is hiding in the library. 3) yes Nado has somehow ended up on stage again. He’s doing that pec thing it’s weird. I swear the moms here are swooning. He signed someone’s bra. ITS A SCHOOL.

KrisVolley: you’re just cranky that you had to drive the mini van. Haha! 😂

CarbO’Hara: Logan! You drove a minivan? 🤪🤪🤪🤪 cuteeee

Logantremblayzzz: it’s stupid and ugly. 🥴

Dumodad: suits you then 🤪

Logantremblayzzz: I’m telling your wives.

Sergei_81: no Logan. Don’t be mean. U can have my car

Bradygunz: we don’t tell Celeste when you leo and Finn cause problems!!!!

Dumodad: he’s bluffing! Remember who let you live FOR FREE in his basement! I do your laundry and feed you.

Logantremblayzzz: celeste feeds me and does laundry. You’re just as much a leech.

Dumodad: I pay for things. 😠

RussianGod: I don’t know where are. Books everywhere help I hide from moms so many everywhere 😳😳😳😳

Ollibear: someone please rescue Kuny before the soccer moms kidnap him 😂

Timmyforrealz: wow Kuny go get some cougar love 🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯 hehehehe

RussianGod: I scared. Help. @dumodad @logantremblayzzz @sergei_81!!!!!! Help help

Sunnysideup: DONT flirt with them then. You asked for it. I’ll come get you. Stay in the library. You’re missing nado singing.

——

Saturday 2.12 pm

Logan: hey Celeste. Show is ok. How’s the spa??? ❤️❤️❤️

Celeste: charmer... it’s fine thank you - how are the boys?

Logan: uh. Well.

Celeste: one sec love.

—-

Celeste added Logan to the group chat

Celeste: hi Logan! Please tell us about the show. How did the terrible two do with their performance

Logan: well Katya got scared and refused to go on stage so Kuny had to hold her hand. It was really cute. Loved the outfits. They’re definitely never forgetting that 😂 other than that your husbands are sneaking drinks from sergei’s flask and Nado has been in stage for the past three performances

Anya: he did what? I will kill him. Thank you for telling us Logan. Tell zhenya to be careful. Soccer moms are hungry.

Logan: will do. Want me to kick your husbands?

Anya: no love. We have our own ways to punish our idiots 😈

Linnea: thanks Logan!

Celeste removed Logan from the group chat.

Celeste: well. I knew we couldn’t leave them alone. But the plan worked well - they’ve now signed themselves up for the events for the rest of the school year! 😎

Allison: 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

—-

Celeste: Logan texted me. Do you have any idea how much trouble you all are in? Also someone go rescue Kuny. He’s not ready for a soccer mom. 😈

Dumo: I’m gonna kill that kid. Also sorry. But. There was a BAGPIPE. You’re very pretty and beautiful and I love you. Sunny has gone to rescue Kuny.

Celeste: hmm. How are you going to fix it?

Dumo: I’ll show you 😜 on my knees 👅

Celeste: 😈

#sweaterweather #sweaterweatherchats #sweaterwheatherchatsnr9 #lumosinlove #lumosinlove ocs

65 notes · View notes

vincent-frankenstein · 5 years ago

Text

ADHD sides hcs :3c

self projection time? self projection time

feel free to add ur own hcs onto this im jus usin my own experiences here

startin w PATTON

emotional regulation? who’s she? patton only knows feeling emotions with Every Single Atom in his body so powerfully he might one day Explode

if he’s happy hes HAPPY!!!!! it’s like his body fills with light and he’s walking 2 feet off the ground and nothing could go wrong — and then whoops, something goes wrong, and wh o o ps, hes crying, whoops —

has a million stuffed animals sitting aLL around the house so he always has something to Squeeze

Squeezing is a good stim dont @ me

he throws his whole body into stimming

flapping, bouncing, jumping, spinning — his body must be moving at all times or he will die

starting things is. Very very hard for him. executive dysfunction hits DEEP and he’s just,,, paralyzed. he wants to do the thing!!! he really does!!! his brain just Wont Let Him

logan used to get very frustrated with him but then patton like, explained how it felt and a little lightbulb went off in logan’s head

“patton, I think you have adhd.”

“... i’m guessin that doesn’t mean im a-delightful-hip-dad?”

then they did some Research together and put together a plan to help patton work around executive dysfunction and, it works, sometimes

when it doesnt, logan makes hot cocoa and sits with him

AUDITORY. PROCESSING. PROBLEMS.

“Hey, Pat, what’s for dinner?” “huh?” “I said, what’s for —” “meATloaf”

hearing is an uphill struggle so sometimes he just Signs instead but a lot of the time he gets so excited about what he’s trying to say he just dissolves into flapping halfway through the sentence

lots of hyperfixations !!!! so many !!! he cycles through em one after another suuuuper quickly

he never forgets a hyperfixation, and the mention of ANY old hyperfixations will have him cry-flapping

roman: hey did u know they’re making another phineas and ferb movie -

patton, vibrating intensely and sobbing, .5 seconds away from launching into orbit: theYR E MAKING A WHAT

ROMAN

singing is his absolute FAVORITE STIM

that moment where u reach a point in a song where ur chest just, Swells and u can feel ur voice Vibrating ? yeah

sometimes Does Not warm up beforehand bc ??? he has No Choice but to sing along to certain songs and he cant always control when they come on so his voice sometimes gets Very Raspy from belting without warmups

aside from that twirling and doing Ballet Poses are also very good stims. he stick his leggy out Real Far mmhm

roman: *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt finish it *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt finish it* *starts a new project and doesnt fin

his room is a MESS and NO he will NOT clean it LOGAN he has a SYSTEM

he doesnt have a system and the mess stresses him out to no end but he has one (1) braincell and it’s dedicated to Starting Projects And Not Finishing Them so

needs validation to survive

like legit if he doesnt get validation he will DIE

on the flip side, if he gets any sort of rejection, he will also Die

logan: so I read through your latest script, and the idea is solid. We can definitely work with this. I did notice one oddly structured sentence so I fixed that for you —

roman: so you basically hate it and i should die

rejection sensitive dysphoria is the one villain he has yet to figure out how to slay

contrary to what u might think, he keeps his hyperfixations Very close to his heart. he doesnt think he would survive it if one of the others were to criticize them

the one exception to this rule: disney.

you cant look at this boy and tell me hes not hyperfixated on disney i mean did you s E E him in that one ep cmon

he will ramble about disney to anyone who will listen for hours. days, even, if you give him the opportunity. infodumping about disney is like injecting pure sunlight right into his bloodstream; by the end of it he’s glowing

once, after accepting anxiety, virgil and roman ended up in another debate about the Meanings of disney movies, but this time it was friendly, and by the end of it roman had gotten to ramble about each and every one of his favorite movies and he had never been happier

it was the first time virgil ever saw him Flap

they still get together to talk disney sometimes

VIRGIIIIL

virgil: *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while listening to mcr* *stims while liste

like roman, Music is virgil’s main stim, but he prefers to just. Move. bouncin his leg and drumming his hands in the air and shaking his head etc etc

it takes. literally foreVER for him to trust the others enough to stim around them. music is his main comfort but, for a Long Time, he wouldnt let himself listen to it when the others were around, just bc he knew he’d want to stim and he couLDNT bc what if he got juDGED

but then one day roman starts singing and patton jumps up and starts spinning and virgils like “???” and logans like “that’s how they stim” and virgils like “!!!!”

he Tappy Leg Real Fast

he also has a string of beads he carries everywhere to twist around his fingers bc bead,,, Good Texture

he struggles with rsd just as badly as roman, but he shows it in a Different Way

roman hurts, but hes an actor. he’s not about to invite more rejection by letting them know how much their words hurt! no no no, he keeps up the bravado until hes back in his room and then he breaks

but virgil. the rsd hits and its like, a physical blow to his chest and he crumples, wilting in on himself, and the world around him just sorta, ebbs away. for virgil, rsd is static

after AA the others start to learn his Signs for when hes feeling Bad™ so whenever he shrinks away they’ll stop the conversation and talk him through his insecurities until he feels better

SPOOKY HYPERFIXATIONS ALL THE WAY

went to Halloween Horror Nights one (1) time and now listens to the music on repeat and just. stims for hours

also hes in love with austin gumbam from academy of villains me? self projecting? never

knows Every Obscure Fact from Every Horror Movie Ever and the urge to infodump is Consntantly at the forefront of his mind but he Never Does

unless someone gives him permission

virgil: oh? chucky? thats a. cool movie. did you know that — uh. nvm

logan: no no, go on

virgil, vibrating at a speed that could shatter glass: iF YOU INSIST-

LOGAN,,,,

this bitch is just as bad at Emotional Regulation as patton

hes just better at hiding it

that little stunt w the paper in lntao? he is Constantly .5 seconds away from going apeshitt. that was just A Glimpse into the chaos

he’s just,,,, very very bad at Identifying what he’s feeling. patton hid his feelings from the others, but he still knew what he was feeling, and he knows how to identify emotions

logan, on the other hand?

logan: passion and anger are both Hot. they must be The Same Thing

patton: i. i mean. not really

logan: goddamnit

patton: logan? are you crying?

logan, touching his cheek and finding Tears: hm. tragic. and here i thought i was “happy”

he’d much rather just,,, Not feel but thats not an option bc he still feels things intensely, he just doesnt know What he’s feeling most of the time

quiet stims. he runs his hands along the fabric of his tie, feeling the grooves of the stitches, and readjusts his glasses constantly. if he’s feelin extra wild, he’ll even pull out his rubix cube and solve and re-solve it without even looking

LOTS of obscure hyperfixations

he has so many books on so many different subjects,,,, his room is more of a library than a bedroom and thats just the way he likes it

throwback to that one time he hyperfixated on reptiles and thomas’ little “slimy boy” outburst had him chasing deceit around the mindscape trying to feel his scales “FOR SCIENCE”

memory. problems.

he HATES hates hates hates the fact that things slip his mind so easily. hence, the notebook, and the daily planner, and the deluge of postits hanging around his bedroom

it frustrates him to no end especiaLLY when he forgets important information in front of thomas

patton watches out for the signs of Frustration and brings logan a cup of tea later than day and helps him sort through the Mess of notes on his desk to catalogue the Important Info

just let logan and patton be adhd buds @god bls i beggeth

but when he does remember The Information and thomas praises him? effervescent

logan, after thomas called him cool, kicking down pattons door: I FINALLY KNOW WHAT HAPPINESS TRULY FEELS LIKE

patton: hey! cool your jets there, kiddo!

logan:

patton: :3c

logan, turning around: neveRMIND

patton: nO WAI T-

the day thomas called him cool was the first time he ever Flapped

#patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #adhd #sanders sides hcs #celeste's portfolio #woop w o o p #very Basic™ but im jus like. throwing some of My Experiences at the sides and seein what sticks so #out of this im like. mostly patton n roman #espe c I A LLY roman's singing stim my voice is SHOT rn bc ive been singing nonstop without warming up #adhd sides #legit pls add onto this !!!! i wanna see what experiences Others have

190 notes · View notes

lavenderek · 4 years ago

Text

hi guys julie and i were talking about potential star wars stories that aren’t a part of this whole skywalker destiny shit all the canon movies can’t seem to let go of

and julie’s idea surrounded lesbians and a very heavy presence of Life Day because she hates me and wants me to be unhappy

my idea does not have life day in it because i have a soul. this was my idea that i pitched to her while i did my laundry and i dont think she was very impressed but i am impressed with myself.

so our main character is kristen stewart but purple. like her skin is a dusty sort of pastel lavender. but don’t let that fool you into thinking she is delicate - she is Indiana Jones But Backwards And In Space. her hair is like leonardo dicaprio’s in titanic, but wavy.

her name is Gax McKu and she is an archaeologist. she is the protag of a series. her whole thing is that she likes to discover and learn about ancient cultures and artifacts, but she fuckin hates museums. and if another archaeologist is sponsored by someone who instructs them to bring the artifact to a private collection or a museum, she tracks it down and steals it and puts it back where it is supposed to be. so it’s sometimes indiana jones and sometimes ocean’s 11, because she has to do a heist to get the thing back.

it’s just that other cultures and societies are lateral moves from gax’s own, neither superior nor inferior, and if somebody took some shit from her home planet she’d be peeved. besides, if we “discover” all the shit and take it away, there will eventually be nothing left for future scientists and historians to “discover.”

anyway, i digress.

this all takes place well before the prequels.

ACT I

we find our protagonist at a dig site, and she has unearthed something totally baller like the fossilized bones of a gigantic space condor or like a prehistoric buried treasure or something, and she’s just like crouching and dusting it carefully, looking very shrewd and sexy. she’s probably got like colleagues also dusting shit and one of them brings her a rock and they talk about the rock. idk.

this planet is like a mixture of how white people see africa, and australia. like some parts are a desert and some parts are a jungle kind of moment with lots of alien creatures.

the people whose home planet this is, is - you remember in return of the jedi when there is a keyboardist who looks like a big soft elephant puppet?

it’s those guys.

so they come up to gax at the dig site and interrupt her work, and she is very debonair about how she stands up and brushes her hands off to speak with them. they’re mad and they’re pointing at her and stuff. she understands their language and speaks to them in english like han does. she’s like “i don’t know what you’re talking about. we are here for this excavation only.”

they take her to one of their cities in a vehicle that’s like a wide flat oval thing with a single wheel underneath in the very center. roads are on faintly glowing tracks. this isn’t an extremely urban type of city, there is a lot of greenery and the buildings are etched adobe clay. they are well maintained. this is a people who take care of their community and have a lot of dignity.

she is brought to what we would assume is a beautiful chapel or church or something, with lots of colors painted in a very small geometric tessellation, but gax isn’t shocked or moved by this so we can assume she is familiar with these cities and culture.

inside there is a vast collection of like beautiful stoneware, like marble and opal and granite and shit. lovely. but the biggest pedestal is empty. they glare at her and say stuff to her. she’s very gruffly like, “why would i take your moonstone sphere? i already catalogued this, check with jan bourno.”

they insist and so she has to travel to another city, with a nervous friend who is john cho but he’s got a computer head like that computer head guy in cloud city.

don’t tell me who this guy is or correct me that it’s just a thing he wears like google glass, because i don’t care. it’s a computer head and im the boss.

john cho’s name is Flienn and he’s got a devastatingly handsome beard.

they go to the other city because she’s got to investigate who took the thing. then she finds who took the thing and it’s a white guy, obviously. she fights him. gax has this cool laser knife that uses the same tech as a light saber but it doesn’t buzz as loud or glow as bright, which means she wears it in a holster on her belt, because she’s impossibly hot. flienn is held back by henchmen. he’s very damsel in distress. but gax wins and gets the bad guy to tell her who hired him.

he was paid to get this thing because it is expensive and the rich guy collects rich stuff. he communicated through envoy and all he has is a name and a planet. the rich guy’s name is pelius bragnar. he’s scary. flienn checks on his computer head and tells gax that all records of bragnar have been wiped from any kind of system.

ACT II

they fly to pelius bragnar’s planet, and it’s a forest planet but it’s not like the endor moon, it’s just a very vertical, tree-based city with a lot of stone paths and structures based around the trees. this place is very urban, with a huge class gap. it is heavily policed and obviously corrupt. she meets an old colleague who is now a prosecutor. she is played by gabourey sidibe. her name is Graunda. she calls gax Sabine, and it turns out gax isn’t her birth name, which flienn did not know but gax makes it clear he’s not allowed to call her sabine.

graunda is like, “yeah i know pelius bragnar, i was trying to shut down his gang that operates a drug ring and has the police force in his pocket, and so to control me they kidnapped my little sister. i can tell you where their gang does most of its operations on this planet if you promise to save my sister.”

gax is like, “i don’t know what about my chosen profession indicated to you i was some kind of rescuer of sisters.”

“ok, i’ve known you for like fifteen years and it’s not like you don’t have a history of vigilantism,” says graunda, “but go off i guess.”

flienn is all, “the sphere probably isn’t being kept where they do their gang business, but this is all we have to go on.” flienn’s whole job in the narrative is to be stressed and point out the obvious in case the viewers are kathy and don’t get it. he mapquests the way there with his computer head and they have to devise a carefully designed plan to get in, this is the ocean’s 11 part.

gax is expecting graunda’s sister to be like some 19-year-old and is not expecting her to be the pinnacle of beauty and femininity. she’s in her mid 30s and has big hips and perfect dark skin and almond eyes with like orange eyeshadow. she looks like a monster high doll if monster high dolls were fat and shaped like real people. her hair’s in twists that she’s got all along the crown of her head like a tiara, and then the rest of her hair is in these two low buns on the back of her head and they’re really big and round. they are wrapped in a golden thread. like my point is she’s a total babe and there is a fuckload of sexual tension.

her name is Lamaa. not like llama, the accent is on the second syllable.

they find her like locked in some kind of interrogation room. flienn cracks the code to the door. lamaa’s obviously been roughed up a little bit, and is tired.

lamaa is super upset when gax tells her they can’t leave yet. gax is like, “sorry to add to what has probably been a shitty week for you, but what i came here for is a moonstone sphere.” maybe she goes over the history of the object a little bit. idk.

they spy on somebody who somehow reveals where pelius lives, and there is a gala there next week. they aren’t expecting the tech in this room to have spyware that detects flienn’s computer head the way your work computer knows when you’re trying to plug your phone into the usb port to charge. they have to escape. lamaa is super smart but only ok with weapons and doesn’t have a lot of upper body strength so there’s a lot of sexy peril.

they escape by the skin of their teeth and are now wanted by the corrupt police. they have to hide out in like the tree planet equivalent of a shitty motel and there is a hot love scene between gax and lamaa obviously, like, duh. it’s very steamy and people will be jerking off to it for eight hundred years.

flienn is bi. he doesn’t have a love interest in this installment, im just putting it out there.

ACT III

they go in disguise to the gala, which means they have to dress in formal wear, which is also extremely sexy. lamaa wears a silky backless gown and her hair is coiled in a rope braid beehive. gax wears a formal vest and her hair in a slight bouffant. flienn wears a traditional fancy costume that involves sheer fabric wrapped around him and covering part of his head. he is not religious and doesn’t usually dress this way, but he has to hide his computer head. also he’s wearing eyeliner because why don’t more dudes wear eyeliner? it’s not even because he’s bi. lots of dudes wear eyeliner where he is from.

they sneak around and find the sphere. i guess this is ocean’s 13, when matt damon has to seduce his way into the diamonds room. they get caught in there and are all held prisoner. gax and lamaa argue but it’s obviously just because lamaa is very scared of pelius, which makes flienn even more scared of pelius, which puts gax in a bad mood. she doesn’t really get scared until the physical danger begins.

the physical danger begins. pelius comes in, The pelius. he is a twi’lek. he does a lot of sinister taunting and gax is mad because she’s nervous.

lamaa escapes the ropes she is tied up with somehow and is able to get gax’s laser knife to her and they have to fight pelius’s henchmen, and they steal the sphere, and while she’s there anyway lamaa steals all his fancy gold and jewels and sticks them in her cleavage. they climb to the roof and use flienn’s drapes of fabric to zipline down some like fuckin ropes strung along all the treehouses and escape. pelius is like curse you gax mcku, i would have gotten away with it too if it weren’t for you meddling adults!! and your little computer head too!!! he is left as a future antagonist.

lamaa is obviously a target now on the tree planet, so she goes back to the elephant puppet planet with gax. there’s another love scene but gax finds all the jewels and shit in lamaa’s bra. she’s like, “you can’t keep these.”

lamaa is like, “i figured, i just didn’t want him to have them. i don’t know where these go.”

so future stories will probably involve them trying to put those things back while also being chased by pelius and his drug lords.

they all return to the dig, and now lamaa is wearing archaeologist clothes like gax, and her hair is pulled to the back of her head with a fancy barrette. gax is once again interrupted, but this time it’s by the guy who stole the sphere in the first place. he’s like, “pelius is going to kill me for giving up who hired me, and it’s your fault.”

gax is like, “you’re an embarrassment to the science of archaeology. you’ve gone against the very tenets of our profession and i don’t care what happens to you.”

this obviously makes him feel shitty, but rather than internalizing it he just hates her guts. he leaves, and she goes back to the dig and doesn’t watch him go. but he glares with contempt over his shoulder, because he will also be an antagonist in future installments.

and that guy’s name?

SHEEV PALPATINE.

i’m just kidding, these are all new characters, his name is like george or something.

the end.

give me money.

#YES i named kstews character after the character she plays in the totinos sketch YES im a girl #space fights #thing by betp #gax mcku

12 notes · View notes

matieski-has-art · 5 years ago

Text

Elfster gift exchange!

Yeah. I know I'm posting it late, but I swear the intended person got it! @just--another--daydreamer requested I post it so that its catalogued? I think? [Wtf is a masterlist???]

@theauthorishere is who it was for, and they were very thankful and nice and we are now (I think) friends. So- yeet.

I yawn and stretch my legs out underneath my- sorry, our, blanket. Peter beside me stirs and flops an arm over me.

"Petey.. Bunny, come on, I have to get up, the oven went off, do you want the cocoa to boil over?"

Peter mumbles into the small of his back, tiny words of protest.

"If you get up and come to the kitchen I'll even get you a cup," I say, slipping out of Peter's loose grip, getting up off of the ground in front of the fireplace.

I nearly hit the tree in the process, a string of profanities leaving his mouth as I try not to stumble over wrapped presents. Peter snorts from the blanket, scooting closer to the warm fire.

I sigh, looking at Peter with a little giggly eye roll before silently stepping to the kitchen. I head straight (pfftt) towards the island where I had placed the cups, gently weaving my fingers through the handles. Slowly, I opened the oven to see the cocoa a golden brown, with small bubbles here and there. With a wiff of the delicious aroma, I slide the rack (*cackles* IM SORRY) out of the oven, quickly grabbing the cocoa and setting it on the stove right above.

Peter comes waddling in, the blanket draped around his shoulders and dragging on the floor behind him, a pillow on the end. He pulls a stool out, slowly sliding into it before gently faceplanting onto the counter.

I laugh, slidiby the cups onto the stove. Shaking my head, I grab a ladle from the drawer next to the dishwasher, slamming it closed just to see Peter jump up. Now I cackle, pointing at him as I skim through the cocoa, rich and thick. If I wasnt hungry before, I am definitely, now. And so is Peter, who sniffs the air violently.

When I get it all adorned with whipped cream, I grab two spoons, sliding my socks along the floor until I pass by Peter.

"Hey!" He gets up tripping on the blanket beneath him and falling just before my ankles.

"Well, now you know why you shouldnt wear a cape," I say, holding the cups up and sliding into the living room, setting one on the coffee table and setting myself onto the floor in front of the fireplace.

I can hear Peter bumbling around the kitchen, before I hear a victorious 'a-HA!', and heavy footfalls. He slips, and I can see him go ass over teakettle right next to the couch, a bottle of sprite flying up out of his hand and landing on his crotch.

"How, in all of the universe, that you, Spider-Man- the most graceful superhero that can predict life threatening situations- are the most clumsy man I have ever met," I ask, taking a bite of the whipped cream in the cup on my lap. He grumbles something, rolling over and crawling the rest of the way until getting to his cup on the table.

Peter digs in, without the spoon that is in his cup, getting it on his nose. I look at him like hes insane, but he shovels more into his mouth and I think his nose.

He looks up at me with a dead-eye stare, whipped cream and cocoa on his face, and slowly says, "So there I was, barbeque sauce on my tiddies."

"What the fuck, Richard," I say, not missing a beat.

He looks at me, and I send back the soulless stare. We both spit into laughter, tears coming from my eyes, whipped cream from Peter's nose.

He grabs his cup, shuffling over to me with the blanket under his knees. When he sits down, he becomes a human pretzel, contorting his body into the criss-cross. Then, he starts using his spoon, wiping his face off periodically on his sleeve.

When I finish just before him, he takes my cup and sets it on the table, before he scarfs it down and sets it next to mine.

"Hey Friday, put on Die Hard, please!"

"Of course, Peter."

He hoists me up when the opening scene of the best Christmas movie of all time begins, throwing me onto the couch before following suit and fish-floppiing next to me.

Peter quotes a bunch of lines while he combs his hands through my hair while I lean onto his shoulder. But, after about 20 minutes, I get.. Bored. As one does, of course, but... Its Christmas, and even Santa needs some sugar, right?

Slowly, I slide down to Peter's stomach, setting my shoulderblade over his crotch, rubbing it in. He laughs, and looks down on me, slinking his fingers through my hair and cradling my skull. But, he moves me over and flops onto my chest, making me wheeze out an 'oomph!'

"Oh, what? So youd assume youd be on top," I jokingly wheeze out.

"Well? Would I be wrong?"

"Well, not right now because holy shiiiiiiiit, get the fuck off of me-"

He laughs, setting his elbows up next to my shoulders and relieving the weight on my chest.

"How is skin-and-bones seven hundred fucking pounds? Huh? Fuckin hell, man." I put my arms around his neck and breathing it right into his ear. He laughs into mine, swinging his other leg over my body.

He leans up, gently looking into my eyes before taking my lips, quickly.

"If I hadnt eaten earlier, I would be ravenus. For now, I'll settle for starving," he says, holding onto the sides of my face. I push up off of the couch, right into his lips.

Peter licks my lips, eager to get in. I open them, pushing my tongue against his, fighting for dominance. After not long, he wins, shoving in and exploring every space and crevice in my mouth with his sweet-tasting tongue.

My hands travel around to his chest, sliding down and hooking the hem of his shirt with my fingers. He breaks for air, panting.

"Off," I demand, pulling at his shirt and kneading his stomach with my palms. He agrees, quickly stripping his off as I unbuckle his pants.

As soon as its off, he comes back and ravages my lips, letting me feel his muscles and snake my hands down to his underwear. I palm his semi-hard cock, letting him groan into the kiss. He abandoned my waist, where his hands were, and pulled down my pyjama bottoms. His mouth moved to my neck, where he could leave loving whispers and careless love-marks as he pulled my bottoms and underwear off the rest of the way.

I feel his hands on my bare bottom, squeezing and pulling at my skin. He breathes into my ear, groaning when I slip my hand into his boxers, pulling out his dick.

Slowly, I start to rub up and down the length of it, and he pokes a single finger into me.

"H-Holy shit," I breath into his neck, pulling myself into his body.

"My room," he declares, suddenly hoisting me up and going down the hallway. He stumbles every so often, giving me a chance to capture his lips, until he reaches his door.

"I swear, our life is like a movie," I breath, laughing into his hair as he sucks on my collarbone, slamming me into the door, eagerly fumbling with the handle.

The door slams open, and we fall to the ground. Peter adjusts his hands to my thighs, and I laugh.

"[M/n] I swear to the gods, if you do not get that shirt off by the time I get the lube, im fucking you into the ground," he growls, getting up and running over to his bedstand, digging through it.

I stand up and close the door, locking it before anyone decides to get curious. I feel rough hands on my hips pulling me towards their waist.

"Shirt off. Now, kitten," Peter growls in my ear.

I feel shivers all the way up my back, and obediently pull my shirt off. He shoves me up against the door, pulling my legs apart and angling my hips.

I feel a cold substance on my hole, and I think its just lube. Until it starts swirling around me and I realise that both of Peter's hands are still on my waist. He pushes my tongue past my ring, licking and pushing around my insides.

I let out a breathy moan, trying to not cum. He releases a hand from my waist, trailing down my leg until it lets go, and he starts to rub himself. My hands find their way back into his har, pushing his head, and tongue, deeper.

Suddenly, he leaves me, hands and tongue, making me whine out in protest. But, I dont have much time to protest because suddenly he slams into my under-stretched hole, making me scream in pleasure and pain. He sits still for a while, letting me catch my breath.

"'And it is with great irony that one of the worlds most desired and cherished pleasures, brings its worst pain'-" I pant, "Jackson O., nicknamed T.D."

"I fucking love your quotes, kitten," Peter moans into my ear, starting up a rough and uneven pattern.

I feel his whole length reaching into me, scraping against my insides. He pulls me up from the door, locking my body to his with webbing, and plays with my nipples, pulling on my piercings, making me mewl.

I try to reach down and stroke myself, or hold Peter's hand against my waist, or anything, but he swats them away, biting into my neck and leaving me a moaning mess.

He picks up my legs with one hand, sweeping them to the side as he quickly walks us over to his bed, him fumbling around underneath the pillows for something. A brown box is pulled into my peripheral vision, and he pulls out a pair of handcuffs. My hands are brought above my head, and he loops the cuffs around the headboard, clicking the cuffs into place.

( 1699 words.eeeeeeeey-)

He spreads my legs out as far as they can go, spreading me apart, before ramming into me at an alarming pace, making the bed creak and hit against the wall. I turn into a mess of pleasured sobs, moans, and screams, while Peter grunts, and only lets out his soft, breathy moans every once in a while.

Peter hits this one spot that makes me yell out.

"Peter! Right- right there-"

"Got it," he grumbles.

He positions there and only there, striking it hard with every thrust.

My cock finds the bedsheets to rut against, and Peter pushes so forcefully that I find myself spasming out, cumming over my stomach. He keeps going, making me ride out the orgasm.

He really wasn't kidding when he said he was going to fuck me into the ground. His pace is relentless, and I can feel the webs sticking to my back and to his chest. Peter doesnt touch my cock at all, instead favouring my hard nipples, pulling at my piercings and twisting them this way and that. With how much he's hitting my prostate, I'm sure to cum again soon, no matter how much stamina he has.

True to my thoughts, Im soon spasming into the sheets again, breathless and getting closer and closer to over-stimulation.

But Peter keeps going, sometimes slapping my thighs or biting into my neck. Somewhere in it, the webs dissolved, and he started to mark up my back, leaving bleeding bites and blooming bruises and hickeys.

What felt like seconds had been going on for seconds had probably ben going for hours. After around I-don't-know-the-number-th time I had came, I had looked to the window, seeing the morning rays in the window.

I clenched, pushing against Peter and squeezing him until I could make him cum for the second time. [Because I had seen the cum in his jeans when they first started.]

Peter continued his relentless pace, not stopping or adjusting. But when he hit my prostate one final time before I came, I locked my legs behind me, squeezing around him as I curled in on myself, finally too tired to continue and too weak, he had came. He had shook as he held his hand over both my own, holding my hips as tight as he could and bottoming out, pushing all of it into me.

When I let go of him, satisfied with how it had went, I was almost completely limp on the bed, save for my ass still in the air from where Peter had angled it.

But I hear Peter shuffling around in that box of his, and I suddenly feel a very cold and large thing slip past my entrance, making me shiver. I feel him put leather straps around and on it, clasping it tightly.

"Now if you can keep this on until New Years," he says, a glint of humour in his voice, "Then youve got a suprise."

And thats it! excuse my terrible writing I was in front of my cem'ya so yea-

18 notes · View notes

spirit-shroud · 5 years ago

Note

Hey! What are your misc opinions? I’m asking you to share them!

if you get interrupted more than 3 times trying to say something, the interaction loses all sense of social niceties and whatever happens next is between you, god, and the person/group interrupting you. it is within your legal right to go apeshit at that point

we need to bring back the cloak and billowy shirts and peasant skirts. and the half vest. and ridiculous belts. and other things. i want to look like tulio from road to el dorito at all times and it’s my right to do that

fall is a good season and we need more uplifting music about the fall bc all the songs for it are generally fairly depressing and that isn’t cool

tarot cards should be more mainstream and they should have more lighthearted/goofier art. also they’re also very silly as a concept. like. yeah the cards can say some generalized stuff you can probably apply to the situation at hand but. if you had done one more shuffle? totally different outcome. that’s what life is like except life doesn’t have cryptic omens to say what it’s like for you.

business majors are unethical not in the way they exploit workers or inevitably become corporate cogwheels (bc honestly that’s just. part of being a business major) but rather these HOOLIGANS, these FOOLS, these CRETINS think it’s SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE to play LOUD ASS EXPLICIT music ON THEIR PHONE SPEAKERS in PUBLIC while they’re WEARING WIRELESS HEADPHONES and i think that should be a crime in itself. like. dude. class starts in 5 minutes. calm the fuck down

sometimes the best thing to say is silence. but, if people talk over you and force you to be silent, crush them. steal their vocal chords.

people will pack bond with anything, even if you dont think they will. just routinely show up somewhere and suddenly you have friends. it’s wild.

support your local library or die by my sword

gender itself is pretty cool actually but what isn’t cool is how pushy and weird people are about it. i dont know what you want from me, gender police, i just work here. i’m not afraid of you

a lot of people are wrong about m*tal gear s*lid. like in general. i will not elaborate on that point i just want them to know.

all condiments are gross except for butter, marinara sauce, soya sauce, and raspberry jam

people who make coffee addiction their primary personality trait are boring. we’re all working through crippling caffeine addictions, margaret, what you need is help

*sdf movies stopped being funny after the release of 5. they didn’t age well after that. which is sad bc they were an integral part of the internet experience

people who are too into astrology are kinda weird. valid, bc they aren’t harming anyone and it is pretty cool tbh, but weird. theyre like. weird horse girls but if instead of horses it was psychoanalyzing people based off of arbitrary stuff.

we should respect birds more

bees are cute. i dont like honey or anything i just really like bees and we should thank them for their service

people should scream less. it’s okay to not scream. quiet voices are where it’s at. and so is taking turns at speaking. that’s cool.

all cars are ugly to look at. roads are garbage. i understand why they’re that way but the fact we keep making new breeds of car and roads aren’t cool to look at and they’re super destructive is sad.

more music should utilize the banjo

my taste buds are shot and my sensory input in general is so whack. but like. fries from five guys aren’t actually that good. like. i dont like them any more than i like other fast food fries. what makes them special/tastier is the experience of going to the five guys, not the food there. it tastes like any other food you can get. in fact, all food tastes the same. all pizza is the same pizza. all hamburgers are the same hamburger. there is only one flavour per item and my tongue does not detect quality, only that it is Food

all pictures and sounds have textures. i will not elaborate but Toto’s Africa specifically feels like smooth wood and every version of Dearly Beloved i’ve heard feels like getting splashed by a puddle, just slightly below the knee. my blog background has the texture of smooth stone. like the kind of rock that’s been sitting at the bottom of a river for awhile. i will not elaborate further on how sounds and pictures have textures, they just do and it’s integral to the enjoyment of the picture/sound.

we should, as humans, spend more time in the woods

the worst sound in the universe is silverware scraping against a plate/bowl/whatever

online college classes are bullshit, do not trust them

chopped is only fun to watch if you’re with a friend and yell at the tv together. it’s also fun if you take a drink of water/tea/whatever every time someone burns meat, forgets to add salt, or puts something weird into a blender.

dnd’s monster manual is actually just a boyfriend catalogue, but watch out

i have more but this is what my goblin brain came up with on short notice. thank you for your time

#kc takes questions

6 notes · View notes

expectoepatronums · 7 years ago

Text

we are all fools in love

A/N: Jumping on the textfic bandwagon. This was so much fun to write, I completely understand the obsession now. Title from pride and prejudice (the book)

James Potter to Lily Evans: do u think my english lit paper could just be a review of the kira knightly pride and prejudice movie

Lily Evans: james it is 3am

James Potter: yes it is

Lily Evans: pls go to sleep

James Potter: cant this is too important

Lily Evans: im not even in english lit ask remus

James Potter: hes asleep lily obvs it is 3am

Lily Evans: wow what a novel concept

James Potter: but actually have you seen the kira knightly p&p its so good

Lily Evans: ofc i have ive been in love with mr darcy since i was 10

James Potter: lily evans! how could you?!! in love with another man?!!! i am heartbroken!

Lily Evans: i am going to sleep now

James Potter: wait i actually need to know do u think i can write my paper on that

James Potter: lily?

James Potter: lily im not kidding

Lily Evans has left the conversation.

Sirius Black to Lily Evans: can u pls make ur boyfriend shut up abt pride and prejudice

Lily Evans: sorry i think hes ur boyfriend in this situation

Lily Evans: that reminds me can you make ur boyfriend shut up about pride and prejudice

Peter Pettigrew to is this a cool chat name?: hey prongs isnt ur 6 month anniversary with lily coming up?

James Potter: ya

James Potter: we’re going to a rlly nice dinner

James Potter: im surprising her

James Potter: theres going to be a violinist. and roses

Remus Lupin: jeez james how long have you been planning this?

James Potter: only like, 7 months

Remus Lupin: that was a logical decision

Sirius Black: gotta be prepared moony

Peter Pettigrew: i cant believe prongs will have been dating lily for 6 months on october 24th at 5:06pm its truly amazing she hasnt dumped you yet

James Potter: thanks for the vote of confidence pete

Remus Lupin: pete why do you know the exact minute they got together

Sirius Black: well obviously he marked it in his calendar like the rest of us

Sirius Black: i cant believe you havent recorded the momentous event moony shame on you

Remus Lupin: you own a calendar?

James Potter: actually it was 5:07

James Potter: just so u know

Peter Pettigrew: my whole life is a lie

Sirius Black to James Potter: not coming to chem today

James Potter: u dont take chem

James Potter: neither do i

Sirius Black: then what is the sciencey class where you evans and i sit in the back and make fun of giles the entire time

James Potter: physics

Sirius Black: r u sure

James Potter: yes

James Potter: yesterday u asked giles what exactly a physic was

James Potter: he did not find it funny

Sirius Black: yes but everyone else did

James Potter: on the contrary lily just rolled her eyes

Sirius Black: good god prongs do u catalogue everything evans does y are you so disgustingly in love

James Potter: i dont catalogue im just perceptive

Sirius Black: r u kidding me last week sabrina morgan asked you out and you didnt even realize it

Sirius Black: and then u had to chase her down and tell her that u had a girlfriend who you were very much in love with and that u did not actually want to go out

James Potter: i dont see what that has to do with anything

Sirius Black: thank you for proving my point

Sirius Black to yes remus i own a calendar im not a barbarian: I HAVE THE BEST IDEA FOR GRAD PRANK

Remus Lupin: if it involves balloons filled with maple syrup again sirius im leaving this chat

Sirius Black: i would never do that again moony im not boring

Sirius Black: this time its balloons filled with molasses

Remus Lupin has left the conversation.

James Potter: really sirius? molasses?

Sirius Black: in hindsight it may actually be worse than maple syrup

Sirius Black: back to the drawing board

Peter Pettirgew: wait i want to hear the idea

Lily Evans to Remus Lupin: why is james being weird

Remus Lupin: what are you talking about

Remus Lupin: he always looks like that

Lily Evans: mary macdonald just asked him if he had any plans this weekend and he almost jumped out of his seat

Lily Evans: and now he’s tapping his pencil against the desk. he only does that when he’s nervous

Lily Evans: youre sitting right next to me how have you not noticed

Remus Lupin: idk you’re gonna have to ask him

Lily Evans: i tried

Lily Evans: he just said ‘err nothing why would you ask that hey did you see that movie’ and then he rambled on about some netflix documentary

Remus Lupin: that seems pretty par for the course to me

Lily Evans: come on remus

Remus Lupin: idk ask sirius

Lily Evans to Sirius Black: why is james being weird

Sirius Black: what r u talking about

Sirius Black: he always looks like that

Lily Evans to Peter Pettigrew: why is james being weird

Peter Pettigrew: idk what youre talking about

Peter Pettigrew: hes totally fine

Peter Pettigrew: nothings going on

Peter Pettigrew: just yesterday he told me he was feeling as normal as ever

Peter Pettigrew: hes definitely totally completely fine

Peter Pettigrew has left the conversation.

James Potter to james is going to a fancy dinner hes so grown up: EMERGENCY: WHAT DO I WEAR

Peter Pettigrew: a suit?

Sirius Black: nothing

Remus Lupin: a nice shirt and a tie

James Potter: okay i have found something crisis averted

Sirius Black: breaking news: james learns to dress himself

Remus Lupin: we’re so proud of him for his achievement

James Potter changed the chat name to ‘james is going to a fancy dinner hes so grown up UNLIKE THE REST OF YOU’

Sirius Black: i feel personally victimized and attacked

Remus Lupin: i think that was the point

Peter Pettigrew: hey! i didn’t say anything!

James Potter changed the chat name to ‘james is going to a fancy dinner hes so grown up UNLIKE THE REST OF YOU minus peter’

Peter Pettigrew: thank you

Lily Evans to James Potter: thank you for tonight

Lily Evans: it was wonderful

James Potter: glad you liked it

James Potter: these 6 months have been the best of my life

Lily Evans: mine too

James Potter: hey lily?

Lily Evans: yeah?

James Potter: i love you

Lily Evans: i love you too

Remus Lupin to James Potter: how did it go last night?

James Potter: it went great

James Potter: she loved it

James Potter: i did cut myself on one of the roses tho

Remus Lupin: oh my god

James Potter: there was a little bit of blood but i survived

Remus Lupin: glad to hear it

James Potter: on another note, do you think McGonagall will accept my english lit paper if its titled “‘Lizzie B Takes No Shit’ and Other Take Aways From Pride and Prejudice (2005)”

Remus Lupin has left the conversation

Sirius Black to fambam: BREAKING NEWS: JAMES POTTER AND LILY EVANS ARE SNOGGING IN THE CAF

Remus Lupin: sirius theyve been dating for six months

Sirius Black: IK BUT IT NEVER GETS LESS EXCITING

Lily Evans: glad to know you find us entertaining

James Potter: what did you expect lil? were like elizabeth and darcy

Sirius Black: does that make me bingley

Remus Lupin: p sure im bingley

Lily Evans: guys its obviously pete

Peter Pettigrew: aww thanks i think also is now a good time to mention that ive never actually seen this movie

James Potter: WHAT????!!!!!!!??????!!!!

#jily #marauders #james potter #lily evans #remus lupin #sirius black #peter pettigrew #molly writes things #jily fanfiction #this has been in my drafts for three months #so here it is

67 notes · View notes